the voices linger

Inspiration for the painted markings under his eyes was this :-)

Ragnar did not seem to hold the fact that Sköll had lost his sibling(s) in any way against him and the Tiny Viking felt a great measure of relief when Ragnar had still, despite being told that, wished for Sköll to be apart of the Horizon Ridge where more wolves could speak his native tongue and translating wouldn’t be put in the paws of a single woman. Sköll did not particularly (call it a burst of male pride) enjoy having to rely upon anyone to be his voice when he clearly had a voice he simply did not know very many common tongue words. Upon his arrival in the Ridge just as night had began to fall — after sending a howl to the Isle wolves to, hopefully, communicate simply that he was leaving, before he headed in the direction Ragnar had commanded him to go where, as he promised, the platinum silver Viking had been found waiting — Sköll had hunted with the Beta and had mixed a concoction of mud, blackened by the crimson of blood and with the assistance of the scarred man had drawn the blackened (in some lights dark crimson) mixture like slashes down his cheek/muzzle with a talon ripped from a bird carcass.

Sköll had kept the talon, it’s tip stained with the dark coloration of the mixture that now marred his face, knowing he would have to replace the mixture every two week or so depending on how quickly it faded off. His father, Floki, had began the practice of the mud/blood mixture, the smearing of it on to their fur. If it held any semblance he had never told Sköll even as he aided their young son and his wife, Helga, in marking them as Helga had aided in marking him…well any semblance besides distinguishing them as a family (if that was at all possible).

He had spent the night out in the open, enjoying the stars and the slim sliver of moon that reminded him of Hati if only because of the moon’s relation to her namesake; when morning broke, the day partially cloudy just as it had been the previous day he rose and stretched, filled his stomach with something from the caches, making a mental note to at least replace what he had eaten and began to explore the territory.