Dragoncrest Cliffs never cry again

His recollection had all the trappings of a folktale, a grim one. When Njord mentioned fighting alongside old comrades, her father included, Meerkat tipped her head to gaze up at him. She hadn’t thought of Kaertok in quite some time. She supposed they’d both lost their fathers now, though she had barely known hers and the loss paled in comparison to her husband’s.

She felt a pang for the young wolf who’d lost his life at Njord’s teeth, though only fleetingly. Her face twisted and she looked down at her paws. This faceless lad had torn apart her husband’s face and been party to his father’s murder. Meerkat wouldn’t waste any pity on him. One of her paws clenched into a fist as she thought about the toll such violence must have taken on Njord, who was as softhearted as he was valiant.

The story had a happy ending of sorts. Meerkat let out a sigh, unclenching her paw and putting it over one of Njord’s. She tilted her head again, pushing it gently underneath his chin. She held herself there against his chest for another spell, calmed by the feeling of his lungs expanding beneath her cheek. Meerkat tried to sync her breaths with his.

Leaning back, she remembered to say, I’m so sorry about your da…

And that made her think of their own children. It went without saying that Njord had missed a lot as far as they went. Meerkat chewed at her lip, wondering if her husband felt rested enough to have a proper conversation with their trio just yet. She wondered, too, how exactly the boys and Mercy would react to their father’s return after being gone so long.