Nova Peak Raven's Call

Joining thread (AW), looking for leadership in @Ayovi and @Skorpa <3

A steady clip carried the blackbird girl into the unknown. Her only remnants of home being the familiar stars that followed her to new lands. Her heart filled with wonder as the sky made space to show her new stars with each passing night.

Raven's call counted the changes each night, trying to find the shapes within these new skies. Stars clustered together in family groups, a thought that made the lone girl's heart ache.

She had never been alone for so long.

She could not return home, Night Crier had made it clear. Raven's jaw quivered whenever she envisions the face of her father, contorted into a snarl. Never before had that been towards her.

Travel picked at the girl's flanks. Lean from winter, small game sustained her travels. Surviving was not thriving.

So when a pack's scent traveled from the horizon, and a mountain rose upward to scrape the sky, Raven's Call approached the border with nothing to her name but hope. Her voice rose into the air, calling for those that inhabited this land.

---

winsook became lively, disturbing skorpa's perception of the mount and smearing his once solitary haunts with new scent. his little birds were scared away, and he was quite gruff in how he came about the people of winsook.

it was a reaction to temper.

a thin darkfurred girl at his borders, or to his eyes she appeared a girl, the age of silentsnow perhaps. bearman prowled down on broad step from the higher reaches, staring at her. assessing.

"you find winsook," skorpa said after a moment. "what need?" he had an idea, but would not assume, watching her with implacable eyes.

her own stood in two colors, the guardian noted.

---

From the higher reaches of the mountain did a guardian descend. His body cloaked in scarlet in both from his own natural hues and decorated with crimson stains. Raven's heart dropped as the rancid note of blood laced the air with him.

The blackbird crouched as he approached, her tongue passed over her lips, and her mismatched gaze dropped in deference to the mountain man. Her tail wagged passively behind her.

Winsook... Raven tested the word quietly upon her tongue. It was foreign to her, as was the guardian's accent. She looked up to him, her ears cupping forward. It took her several breaths to find more strength to her voice. I seek a new home.

A forward approach, but it sufficed. Had she not been taught to ask for what she wanted? Perhaps she may be too hopeful, but her eyes spoke for her.

Would you have a place for me?

---

"can be home." but he yet made no move to offer, nor strayed toward warmth. "what can you do?" words of common flowed more easily for bearman now, though thick still the accent was to cowl them.

thus far hunters and healers had flocked to winsook. a sorceress pitched close her hut. they maintained boundaries with reindeer hunters and icemen alike.

there was much to be offered. skills to be honored. her softness eased that jarlheart in skorpa, but he motioned her to rise. "we live in peace. not leader. guar-dian."

---

Can be home.

Raven's pulse quickened at those three words. Hope filled her chest and lifted her to paws. Her the wag of her tail broadened, and a smile tugged at her lips.

I can help hunt and care for young. As many wolves could, but these things were valuable wherever one went. Through her excitement she considered if that would be enough. A thoughtful look came to her eye.

Raven's Call took a pace forward and pointed skyward with her muzzle.

I was born a Galesinger. The girl paused to see if any recognition played upon the guardian's face. Truthfully, she did not anticipate it, but she looked nonetheless. We would watch for storms and warn our neighbors. I can also teach the stars.

---

raven's call welcomed his news, and after a moment, skorpa welcomed her with a slow nod. "mountain will have child. many child, i think," he mused as he glanced skyward. he had a brief inkling of what was meant: something to do with the forces of sky and air. yet galesinger was not yet a word he knew.

"maybe you show. some night. talk af star. and storm. i listen. am husband to ayovi of winsook. she listen too. i think."

he thought she might enjoy such a thing, and welcomed raven's call with a tip of broad muzzle.

---

Many children were to born. The girl pondered how many mothers had made home upon the mountain. This was something she needed to investigate; no woman would wish to leave their babes with a stranger after all. Raven's Call made a mental note to acquaint herself with the Winsook community quickly.

The guardian expressed interest in the skies. A vague commitment to teach him and his mate, but a delighted gleam lit her eyes. I am happy talk to those who want to listen. Perhaps she was just happy to talk to anyone in general, but who didn't enjoy speaking of their interests?

Ayovi of Winsook. Her name was filed away into Raven's memory.

I am Raven's Call. Thank you for welcoming me.

---

raven's call! he had not even asked her name. "i am skorpa of the white jaw," he said with dire consideration, even slowing to ensure each word was plucked lightly.

"but now i am af winsook." the star mountain. her word of welcome was recognized by the man's incline of a heavy head.

"you say, galesinger?" he asked with polite curiosity as he led her into the rugged alpine reaches of the lone wild mountain. "this is what?"

---

Well met, Skorpa. The blackbird moves to follow him, her eyes intently watching his step as they ascended the mountainside. Trusting the guardian's pathfinding.

Galesinger is my family name. It was given to us by others. Raven murmured as her mind drifted to her grandfather. His image was clear within her mind. The look in his eye as the air changed. The wind cutting through his fur. The boom of his voice as he sung to the skies. A warning song carried on until the rain drowned it out.

It wasn't always our name, but my grandfather said the name stuck when his grandfather was a boy.

The girl's mind wandered further. She was curled between her grandfather's mighty paws. She was barely more than a babe. Sat at the entrance of a cave as the heavens cried. The clouds black as night, the lightning dancing across the sky.

Her grandfather's voice was low, whisper soft in a soothing lullaby. A ward against the raging storm, never had she felt safer than in his arms.

We would use our voices to warn of oncoming storms. The mountain range was steep in many places, and floods were deadly. When all joined the song, it could be heard for miles. So my grandfather would say.