Emberwood Still Alive

Sven swayed through the trees. The muscles in his body still aching. The wound on his chest still sore, but scabbed over and healing as nicely as it could. It would always be a scar from now on. He briefly thought of his family and his siblings. Wondering if they were okay? Was his mother okay? Did she miss them? 

Then his mind would go towards the stone circle. The wolves that were trying to keep it from them. To take it an dmake their own life there. It was frustrating to say the least and he was disgusted by it. And wished he had been stronger

After his latest river-related mishap, Hirundo had decided he needed a break from rivers. Or ponds. Or really any water that went up beyond his paws. He ventured away from where Swiftcurrent Creek formed a bend, towards the green-yellow leaves of an aspen grove.

Then he heard water again, and Hirundo nearly turned right back around. Only, he picked up on an unfamiliar scent: a stranger. Though Hirundo was not as friendly as he had once been, he turned and slowly padded in the direction it had come from. Unfriendly company was better than no company at all, as far as he was concerned. (Alone, he had only his thoughts to focus on, and that rarely went well these days.)

Hello! Do you live by the river, too? Hirundo called out cheerfully.

A wolf gilded in Frost and fog came upon Sven himself. Sven was unsure at first. He no longer was recovering for the most part. His body having mended the wounds well. But he also didn't want to end up on the receiving end of someones teeth again. Especially when he was not near his former home. 

He tilted his head at teh question and pasted a smile to his face. No. I used to leave a little bit away, but our pack has dispersed. Now I am merely wondering. Sven Lodbruk at your service.

Hirundo, in all his obliviousness, could at least tell that the stranger was cautious of him. The dark-furred wolf was shorter and younger than him, but he certainly looked tougher. Not as heavily scarred as Mae, yet he had already seen his share of violence. He eyed the scars with concern. Hirundo was beginning to wonder if coming here was such a good idea.

Pleasure to meet you, Sven. I'm Hirundo, he said. Dispersed. The euphemism (or so it sounded to him) sent a chill down his spine. Did they...disperse, um, recently?

Hirundo could not help but cast a wary glance over his shoulder, as if some crazed, snarling wolf might suddenly launch themself at him from the bushes. The ones he'd met so far had not been aggressive towards him. Maybe they'd got it all out of their systems before he got here?

Sven would bear his life on his pelt as his father had. Though he had not expected a marring of skin and fur and flesh so early in his life. But he would carry them with quiet pride.

Sven made a soft noise, kind. Yes but you needn't worry I have been watching for them. They will not and have not returned.

What brings you to the Twekon Wilds?

Hirundo did not know how the young wolf could be so confident. Still, looking at his scars, it seemed he was more than capable of defending himself. The same injuries would’ve probably ended him.

At least somewhat reassured, Hirundo’s posture eased.

Wandering, same as you, Hirundo said lightly. His own pack’s violent dispersal was a story he did not know how to tell, even if he had wanted to. Well, until recently. Now I live by Swiftcurrent Creek.

Nice enough place. Definitely don’t go swimming there, though. I hear the river’s cursed, Hirundo continued matter-of-factly. Nevermind that he’d first heard that from his own mouth.

Responsibility had been thrust upon Sven at an early age. And as such he had grown confidence in his own skills. With every problem he had faced head on. With every wolf he had taken care of. Every border he had protected it had grown. But his overconfidence had also almost been his downfall and he now knew that confidence, must be tempered in humility. It had been a hard lesson. 

Sven tilted an ear and nodded his head. I would claim it was as well. I knew the pack that was there. But their scents have faded.

Hmm. So the river had something of a history. A bloody one, at that. Hirundo didn’t know how to feel about this information, nor what to think. It was usually better not to think at all, he’d discovered, so he tried to shake off his unease.

Well, Miss Mae’s still there. I don’t know what it was all like before, but she takes care of the river, Hirundo said. Are you looking for a place to stay? Miss Mae might let you, as long as you can catch food.

He hesitated to think of it as a pack or family, yet at the same time, Hirundo did not know where else to go. It seemed relatively safe, at least; anyone with half a brain about them wouldn’t cross a river-witch. The other woman there, Kaiaka, seemed formidable enough too.

Sven did not know all the secrets of the creek it was not his place. And it had killed his father somehow, but that was forgiven. 

Sven had to think. He knew Cygnet and maybe Mae. Ah yes she had stayed among them. Had she been pleasant. He could not longer remember 

I'm not at the moment looking. But thank you. I may make my way there

That was reasonable enough. Had he been strong enough, perhaps he'd already be on his way, too. But Hirundo knew, on some instinctual level, that he could not survive on his own. He probably wouldn't have even survived here if Mae hadn't pulled him out of the river.

So Hirundo simply nodded with a smile.

Come by for a visit sometime. It's always refreshing to see a friendly face, Hirundo said, and he meant it. Despite his natural wariness, he appreciated that Sven had been pleasant and polite enough. At least some wolves were still decent; not everyone had turned to barbarism and violence as a way of life.

But how long until the rest of them fell? Hirundo tried to put that chilling question out of his mind.

I'd better head back now, but it was nice to meet you, Sven. May the winds bring you fortune.