Stone Circle Heartland

His pupils seized and clenched under her surprised gaze- he flinched and his joints buckled lightly, instinctively begging for forgiveness. The skepticism she’d shown him- borne out of devotion to the pack- had not been forgotten, but neither had been the kindness of her gestures after he had been identified. It was only when she offered a mirror of his positioning that his trembling ears lifted slightly; hope sprouted. 

The sound of his name was reassuring. He felt a wave of shame, to know that at this age, he was still one who needed to be tended. All the excuses he could have made for his state wouldn’t be comprehended, not unless she spoke his language- and he did not feel it was right for him to make them, anyway. 

There was no real excuse. He’d been lost- an untrained, unskilled boy. An orphan who had guidance, but had still managed to fail. The only of his litter to persist, but he had still fallen short of general pack expectations. 

”Yes.” He knew few words, but she had already earned all of them. Skáld….Ta…Tauris?” He remembered, though his pronunciation might have been a bit tentative. 

She bent toward the stone, and his tail waved in approval, though it hung low still, waggling between his ankles. He searched for any trace of approval, though he did not yet find her face familiar and easy to read. He thought he saw a trace of curiosity, which was encouraging- though he understood that a stone could do no good for a wolf. It did not nurse a wound, or sate an appetite. It was merely a token, pretty and shining, and not necessarily uncommon in their lands…But he could still not shake the feeling that it should belong to her.

Bjarna had given him the gleaming, silverish rib of a deer once. Ot remained where he’d stashed it, albeit slightly grown over with moss. 

”Yes. Yes,” meaning that it was for her. But her thanks merited a frantic shaking of his head. ”No. Thank. Skáld thank. Skáld thank, thank T-Tauris,” He assured her.