Light the Night

Ye Olde Claiming Howl! [size=xx-small](I had some free time, Java, so I thought I would get one started ;-) )[/size] Next round starts Sat 8/30 @Malachi and @Týrr can assume they got picked up mid way on the journey North. @Njal @Hatshepsut @Skull @Danica @Jökull @Valtýr @Maera @Lárus

As the sun set into the west and the stars became blanketed by the night, a small caravan of wolves stepped, for the first time, onto the alpine loam of Duskfire Glacier. After many days of travelling the Teekon wilds, Njal and Tuwawi led their children and escorts to their new home: an untouched world of dense aspens and ice-melts, fed by the sleeping glacier tucked between twin peaks. Only a few of their party had the brief pleasure of exploring this rugged terrain beforehand. Týrr who had, as promised, met them halfway and Tuwawi who had happened upon the purchase during her reconnaissance. The others followed, guided only by trust, into the North. Though Tuwawi was confident in the new space she had chosen, a level of uncertainty still ebbed at her wan spirit. However, her mind was eased by Njal's presence and she pressed into him as they walked besides one another in tandem. "We are almost there," she cooed to her children, silver eyes darting to Danica and Malachai. The adults certainly fared better than the little ones.

It was a lot to ask of the Sveijarn children who, up until a few days ago, had only ventured outside the den on small excursions. Never before had they had to travel so arduously. Even though the group stopped often to rest, it was clear their energy faded with each step. Yet, the small pack had to push on and struggle forth. Now, only a few leagues separated them from the small den Tuwawi had excavated with Týrr. It was a shamble compared to her painstakingly meticulous den in Swiftcurrent, but it would have to do for the time being.

Eventually, the treeline broke into a clearing dotted with late-season violet lupines. In the distance a giant alabaster glacier lumbered, fixed between its mountain wardens. The fading light danced upon the ice and sparkled atop the small spring fed by the glacial melt. "We've made it," she sighed, decompressing, as the ember regarded her new, and old, companions. The evening air, spiced with a summer's wind, was tepid and inviting compared to the dark woodlands who's hem played in the vibrant rays. Though dusk was a beautiful time, it also heralded the arrival of the dark and dangerous night.

Tuwawi performed a head count before gingerly raking her teeth through Njal's tussled mane. "Call the others and claim this land with me, my Palestrike? Together?" she asked him with a whispered voice. This pack had long been a dream of theirs, and tonight it would become a reality. Her gaze traveled from Danica - the golden warrior - to Týrr - a valiant northerner - before lingering upon Malachi - the peaceful youth. The Sveijarn children came next: Jökull the tiny alpha, Maera the savvy, Lárus the grounded, and Valtýr the big hearted. Tuwawi gave each a small nod... they knew what they had to do... what they had to howl. Upon Njal's mark, the ember's crown tipped back to loose a howl into the heaven's stars. Skull... Hatshepsut... come to us. The time is now. Wolves of Duskfire Glacier sing tonight and we claim this land as ours. The ember's melodic passage offered a proclamation to the world and ignited an infinity fire within the souls of her new family. Tonight was the first of many days to come.