Phantom Limb

RIP Njal · November 12, 2014, 11:46 PM

cameo

They had eaten together in silence - an old haunch of a goat which had been buried in a nearby cache, smelling dangerously close to rotten in some places, and almost frozen in others - and then Njal had whisked his little firebug off to bed. She was sequestered in the den like some kind of captive; it had been this way for the past few days since his return. Every night, almost like clockwork, Njal would feed his daughter and then make sure she was safe and secure in the den - never letting her out of sight for long, even to play with her friend Arabella.

Most of the pack remained distant from him; this he chalked up to a percieved awkwardness caused by his unfortunate situation, but it could have been his own doing, and justifiably so. Lately, Njal hadn't let anyone come near Maera. He hoarded her away, citing it was for her own protection. Maybe it wasn't for her at all, but his own selfish need for consistency.

He waited until he thought she was asleep, and then placed himself across the den entrance - acting as an obstacle, a boulder with sharp teeth. Njal's eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep; his head even began to dip, but would jolt upright as soon as his eyes were closed - hypervigilant. A mixture of mud and blood still caked his pelt from his foray out of the glacial lands, although the largest segments had fallen away due to activity; he was an exhausted mess, and the gash in his side had likely not had a chance to heal.

None of this mattered as he lay there, adamant in his wakefulness.

When an excitable call rose up from the distant edge of the land, Njal's head jolted up - and at first he was confused, thinking perhaps he had started to dream, and then angry at himself for allowing his attention to wane. There was another noise, like a voice but drowned out by distance; when finally Malachi's howl reached in to the heavens, Njal was urging himself to his feet. He gave a cursory look around before changing course and heading for the root of the summons.

As he finally came to a gap in the trees, the ex-Alpha scrutinized the horizon. He saw a gray figure moving out and away from the forest that he currently lurked within; with a squint and some quick assumptions, Njal deemed that shining shape to be Malachi; he was making a bee-line for—Njal's eyes snapped wide open as soon as he recognized her fiery coat. Even from a distance he could recognize his own wife.

But he did not move.

He stood and watched as Malachi went to her, likely greeting her with the enthusiasm that the weather-worn father should have had. A part of him wanted to go out there, to intercept her and cover her in kisses; to wrap himself around her and be close. Oh, how he missed her. Something kept him rooted to the spot — and then he was moving again. But in reverse. Turning sharply and heading back through the forest, to the den mouth. Once there, Njal ducked inside and carefully positioned himself beside the sleeping girl.

/cameo