Sawtooth Spire i'd free all my sons

For @Sitamat

Finding the large pile of bones had been somewhat overwhelming for the spider. At first, intentions had been to donate to the Sawtooth cause and a pair of vole heads had been dispersed within the pile. After an entire evening of restless slumber, the inky fellow returned to the heap of rot and ruin, stealing the offerings back.

The morning had already well risen on the horizon and the open expanse of the gently shaded territory still held a crispness. Not far from the den sites, the spider paused in ground-eating strides to observe the wilderness. Not much stirred this early into fall, as birds migrated and the sun took its time reaching the apex of the sky. Ears tipped to and fro, quietly screening the lack of trees and woody shrubs peeking through nooks and crannies of rocks. Perhaps closer to the water line where the substrate was easier to shift though.

A few more steps closed the gap between outskirts of woodsy terrain and the more internal denning area. Only then did the spider pause, tucking both little skulls into the lopsided terrain, so that nostrils could work the earth. Finding just the right location, the Eta began to paw at the loamy patch, upturning a small bit of soil to start the hole.

The day found Sitamat nosing around the outskirts of their new den site, eager to commit certain sights and smells to memory. It had been made clear to them that this was there home now, this was their rendezvous site where they were free to roam and explore and integrate themselves further into the pack. Sitamat wasn't too fussed with the socialising aspect just yet, instead preferring to idle around and examine his curious new surroundings.

He had been busy shoving his nose into a small space between two rocks when the soft sound of footfalls distracted him. The cub withdrew, moss clinging to the tip of his nose as he swivelled his head to look for the source of the sound. There! A short distance away was a dark, leggy wolf who Sitamat mistook for his mother at first. He was quick to realise it was anyone but, for the stranger lacked the sheer girth Tonravik had. Instead, he seemed thinner, more...spindly. The chubby pup hesitated before deciding to investigate what the man was so intent on, pausing at length from him and watching keenly as he raked at the earth.

It didn't take long to acquire interest and tall, inky ears swiveled at their bases at the sound of waddling approach. Fiery stare lanced the immediate area, lighting onto a small, squat, corpulent puppy with fur like pitch and eyes still lingering in that transition from ice to true color. It was blatantly there and observing. For a brief moment the spidery Eta simply observed its little round face. Maybe it was cute. If it grew up to be half as decent as its mother it would be. There was little knowledge to raising the young and thus no knowledge of whether or not the little beast understood words and sentences. It mattered little, in any event. Company was company.

"Hurry up," the wolf instructed, sharply-cut features nodding to the small hole beneath paws. "They wont bury themselves and we have limited time before they come back. It's almost too late," he concluded with a flare of nostrils and hitch upward of sooty eye ridge.

The man was quick to notice he had gained a small audience, and Sitamat audibly gasped as he swung his head to look to him. His eyes were similar to Iqniq's fur, a molten mix of fiery colours. As the stranger observed him, so did the younger wolf, his stance rigid and stiff as if he had been caught red-handed doing something he shouldn't have been doing. Did the lanky man want him there? Maybe he should just go back to the den...

Hurry up. Sitamat perked at the words, ears flicking straight up once before flattening again warily. He listened, however, curious. His vocabulary now much larger than a few weeks ago, he understood much of what the man said, though confusion still remained written plainly across his features. He had not yet spotted the skulls the spider had stowed away to bury. "'Til wha' come back?" he prompted softly, edging forward as he stared towards the pitch of dirt the stranger was digging at.

Large paws removed the last of soil from the carved terrain, a perfect little bowl ready to accept random decaying body parts. The inky Eta shifted to allow the sooty pup access, gaze averting so that little attention was given to the obviously intimidated youth. "Push them in," he instructed first, muzzle nodding from the little pile of skulls before jutting towards vacant hole in earth. 

The question, though seemingly ignored, was approached next. "So they don't rise again and wander the earth as empty souls," he began with a lift of eye ridges for comprehension before moving on. "Everything has a soul. You. Me. When we die, our lifeforce dies with it, and unless souls are lain to rest they are doomed to walk this earth for eternity. Only surrendering the center of our core, our heads, will give rest to the inevitable." Another small pause caused a purse of lips. "Everything that lives deserves an end," he finished, a tilt of inky jawline observing what sort of reaction this would prompt.

Closer and closer he crept, until the boy was on the lip of the small hole his pack mate had dug. He inspected it, tail wagging as he realised that it was a sort of cache — like what Tonravik had shown him! Eagerly, he swung his head around to find whatever food that was to be buried, only to have his attention directed to the pile of skulls the man indicated to. Sitamat stared at them, brow crinkling. Those were not food.

Still, the boy did as he was told, moving forward to awkwardly grapple the skulls with his forepaws and tumble them into the pit. He listened to the stranger's explanation as he worked and, once done, settled back beside him. His words now were near meaningless to the pup — he had yet to grasp the concept of souls and life and death. A small pause, before, "oh." Sitamat's puzzled frown increased tenfold as he processed this before he looked back up at his dark-furred company, gestured to the skulls and chirped, "ukalerk?" Did these belong to a rabbit?

Cautiously the corpulent little youth crept, easing closer to the little niche in the soil that would soon house the skulls. Their ant-eaten surfaces still held bits of debris and flesh. It was imperative that the little vessels of life were stowed away before everything inside dried out. To the spider's appreciation, the pup pushed them both into their damp graves with great effort from awkward paws. 

A push of wide, inky limb helped re-seat the soil atop them both, moving great swaths over the objects before a hearty pat tamped it all into one final farewell. "Good," he complimented, deeply aware such little efforts were vital to a growing confidence. The forlorn response from the cub was dismissed. There had been little expectations that long, drawn out, complicated explanation would be understood in the first place. There was a comfort in divulging to life that did not hold judgement. 

The foreign tongue was met with a tilt of sharply-cut jawline. The word held no meaning to the spider. "I found them further up the mountain. They live between the rocks there. Rodents. Easy meals," he nearly rambled, hoping the little question was answered; whatever it was.

The two skulls sat side by side, morbid and rotting yet fascinating to the youth, who stared at them with a slightly tilted head. With a sweep of his leg, his pack mate pushed the earth back over the top of them, covering their forms and giving a single tap once done. Sitamat gave a nod, as if expressing his approval of the stranger's actions and smiling at his encouragement. He was certain this was a cache; this is what they did, right? He would return later to dig them back up. (eheheh)

It was then his turn to confuse the other, and the boy blinked up at the spider as he spoke. This time, the words were clear to the pup. His tail started to wiggle gleefully at the mention of an easy meal. "Voles!" he cried as if he had struck gold. He remembered Iqniq mentioning the rodents, and they had become a favourite of his despite never seeing one.

NO PUPPY DON'T DISTURB THE DEADDDDD lol lol lol

There seemed to be a quick flicker of light behind the cub's eyes at the mention of the parasites amidst the rocks. The exuberant voice that billowed out of tiny chest bubbled with pride and conviction. Ah yes, voles! The spider hadn't ever paid much heed to the mountain ranges during his adventuring and, thus, had never formally been introduced to one of the rat-rabbits prior to life within the Sawtooth. Having an identity for the little creatures would be beneficial when it came down to collecting their bodies for a cache. 

"Treat-treats," he enticed with a little surge upwards of inky brows, perfectly capable of switching to serious conversation and back to comical, childish babbling. "You hunt them too?" he asked conversationally, thin jawline tilting the opposite direction than before to express both curiosity and intrigue. "I forgot to taste these," he lamented with a small exhale through nostrils.