Nova Peak τ

for ayovi, other tags for ref :D

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her blood was in his mouth.

it was the stuff of sticky grit, of hope's death and love's cursed sorrow.

her blood was in his mouth.

skorpa plunged himself over and again into the water, clawing ice against himself, dipping until dirt lifted from his fur and he felt that he could forget —

no. he would not.

he could not forget the sink of his teeth into her.

to distract himself, skorpa went out with gifts he had gathered. taciturn these days, unwilling to make more than the tiniest conversation, he nevertheless left his things where the others might find them.

for @Elowen Aeloria, two velveteen stoat-skin wraps in transitional coloration, summer-brown broken by patches of snowy white winter coat.

for @Silatuyok, an herb-drying rack of pinewood he had pulled from an old fir, three pronged branches stripped at the lower of anything too sharp.

and for @Ravens Call, a carefully removed deer-stomach pouch, emptied of its digested contents, soaked thoroughly in the stream, and set on wet moss to keep.

they had saved the skjaldmaer of the mountain, and he would not ever forget it.

bearsword left boundary-haunting to others in winsook; he devoted himself to @Ayovi's appetite, bringing whatever rich fare and early berries he was able to strip from their moorings. melted snow and chips of ice, strips of elk meat and suckling calf.

today, however, it was a spray of flowers which skorpa gathered back to their den; fragrant crocus and bright bleeding heart, elegant sprigs of lilac and pink sweet pea blossoms — the bounty of spring, carried with wry smile and arranged with silent focus around the bedfurs where his beloved rested to recover.

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