Stone Circle Heartland

If she’d scented his approach, she dismissed it as the heart of Kvarsheim that blew across her face. But it wasn’t until a little whine thrummed along the tradewinds that she’d turned to address her unexpected visitor. It was the younger boy brought in off the moors, bellying before her in timorous proffer, something between his teeth catching the glint of noonday sun.

“Oh,” she breathes, startled at first to see him here. “Hello…” She draws, summoning his name from memory of Gunnar speaking it, “Skáld, right?”

He looks up at her with the biggest sea-green stare, halved in hope and something darker- apprehension? There is an entire language of understanding impassive between them. She cannot reassure him in words, so instead she tries in body, and gently lowers to her own belly until their sight aligns.

Her eyes pass between Skáld and the stone he offers between his teeth. “Um, is this for me?” Her brows fold in question, quieted by the gesture. She’ll tip her face carefully to inspect the gift, nosing it with a damp maw, whiskers grazing, nostrils flaring. It’s such a small, idle thing: a translucent rock with a bit of purled texture. Not particularly colorful, not at all useful. It would have gone unnoticed by any other wolf to have passed it by.

But not Skáld. This was a gem from a boy who’d thought of her when he looked at it. And to Tauris, who’d long since forgotten a world where smaller ordinary things could be great wonders, it was a symbol of just that. He held eternity between his teeth. It was the loveliest stone she’d ever seen, the sweetest gift she’d been given.

For the passing of several heartbeats she said not a word, but her brows fold with emotion. “... It’s beautiful, Skáld. Thank you.”