Dragoncrest Cliffs Blue Skies Over Our Land

Set after Haunt's passing.

Njord and @Erzulie had managed to extract @Haunt from the Tangle and haul her limp body back to the healer's den. By the time they reached the cavern Njord could feel damp sweat under his fur as steam rose from their bodies -- moving dead weight was more arduous than it first seemed. Brambles clung to the white girl's fur, debris streaking her side. They had tried to be careful as possible, but it had been a challenge. 

The pair made the yearling as comfortable as possible. While Erzulie attended to her herbs, Njord plucked Haunt's pelt clean. His heart felt a hollow dread -- but so much adrenaline set in that it was difficult to feel any true emotion at all. The seafarer was reduce to base programming: Survive. Food, water, care, and rest was what Haunt needed.... and all they could provide for their friend. 

"I'll find 'er somethin' ta eat," Njord told Erzulie though he wasn't even sure that she could eat. It was all he could do to busy himself: act like Haunt was going to pull through this. It was the only mode of thinking Njord was capable of. "An' I'll look fer @Rosalyn, too," he added. Njord bent down to wash Haunt's ear and temple. "You'll be a'right, mo leannan," he said.

He turned away into the autumnal forest. Not even the world's bright colors could lighten his spirits. First, he looked for their captain, and after some time Njord managed to land a pheasant. Prize in tow, he doubled back to the den.