Horizon Ridge There's a big light

@Ragnar @Gyda Eirikr II(family time)

Tveir woke to early bird song and a slight chill in the early morning air. His father was gone whom of which he had been curled against and now he was near his mother and siblings, but he had moved in his sleep. He saw everyone still sleeping and with a slight shuffling gait he attempted to head towards the light that he could see a glimpse of from his small spot on the floor. He looked back once at his mother to see what she was doing and seeing her still sleeping soundly (or so he thought) he began to slowly move closer until her voice reached his ears and thought he could not quite understand her the vibrations were sharper and he knew he was getting scolded.

He lay his ears back to his skull and made small noises deep in his throat voicing his opinion of not being able to explore the light and sat down at the mouth of the den with a rather dejected look on his face for one so young.

After some serious deliberation I decided to post with Ragnar first and then Ein, lol, because I have a plan for Ein but it requires Ragnar and since I'm posting with both in here I didn't want to powerplay Ragnar. :P

<style type="text/css"> r1 {color:#5e6d7c; font-size: 10px;} .r1box {background-color: #0b0c14; width: 500px; margin: auto; background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/TdbsUHq.png'); background-repeat: no-repeat; border: 1px solid #4b4e55; outline: 10px solid #1f2633;} .r1text {margin: auto; width: 350px; color:#313d4a; text-indent: 15px; font-family: georgia; line-height: 15px; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-top: 420px; margin-bottom: 30px;}</style>

The children did not require Thistle as much as they previously had, their diet consisting of her mother’s milk and regurgitated meat — admittedly anyone could give them the meat though Ragnar let that up to Thistle to take care of. It wasn’t that he was squeamish against retching because that was far from the truth — any man who could rip open another wolf and tear out entrails and eat hearts (or any of the other gruesome things Ragnar may have done) certaintly wouldn’t be squeamish over regurgitation. So while he wasn’t squeamish it didn’t mean he couldn’t have a distaste for retching (which he did have a distaste for it). There was nothing stated anywhere that he had to like it. It was apart of the children’s life and would be until they were old enough to eat meat on their own and it was something he, accordingly, had to deal with. Much in the same manner he dealt with the Isle wolves. With unhindered disgust but he dealt with it nevertheless.

Knowing the children had already been fed for the morning — he had the usual feeding schedule down — he headed back to the birthing den. Soon, it would be too small for them though already it had begun to feel cramped with the five bodies that inhabitied it. Luckily, his rendezvous den was nearly completed and Ragnar saw no reason he would not have it finished before the Rites were performed in when he would move is growing family. Now that the children were mobile, could see and hear they needed more attention than they had when they had been newborns, being much more active. Julooke’s …and Gavriil’s since the male expressed an interest in assisting the couple, help would be appreciated by both parents though Ragnar though himself more so in particular because his attention could be focused more resolutely on his leadership duties. Not that his children weren’t important because they were the most important thing to him, as was his wife. Someday soon, though, they would come to learn that every one had to contribute to the pack including them and that duties could not be shirked just because a child was throwing a temper tantrum.

The sound of Thistle scolding one of the children became clearer though he had missed her words as he approached and slid into the mouth of the den where he positioned himself glimpsing down at the little, growing bodies, offering his family a trademark smirk as he contemplated just what kind of trouble the children were getting into. Or were intending on getting into.

The only reason Ein had taken notice of the light to the distance was because Tveir’s initial curiosity and scolding. He chewed (gumming is probably a more accurate word) thoughtfully on his lump of regurgitated meat, milky blue eyes studying Thistle as she scolded Tveir on his attempt to slink to the light, moved to her mini-me in question whose ears had slunk down to his head, his look of dejection obvious as it poured off of him in waves as he plopped his little bum down by the mouth of the den. Another mouthful of his meat was taken and he glimpsed over his shoulder at Gyda for a few seconds before he looked back to the light, trying to assess what it was Tveir did wrong and why Thistle had chastised him for going near the unknown. The cusp of the world beyond the small, comfortable and safe little den they had came to know as home. He took a drink, suckling for a few seconds upon Thistle letting the warm milk smooth the meat down his throat before he detached himself and pushed himself to his paws, stretching as nonchalantly as he could.

Ein turned his body to face the light, glimpsing from it, to Tveir, to Thistle and then back to the light where his gaze, adapting to the predator instincts within him, zeroed in on it. He was going for it figuring that Tveir’s problem was he had let Thistle talk him down. Suddenly, Ein launched himself forward, ears slicking back as he pushed himself to run towards the light, his gaze ferocious and determined, ignoring any sort of reprimands Thistle might have sent his way as he drew closer to the light. Closer, closer, closer ….He was so close he could taste the outside, the great beyond and he wanted it. Only to have to slam on the brakes when a shadow fell over, blocking out the light and Ragnar slid into the mouth of it, claws digging furiously into the earth, back paws and bum skidding across it as he tried to avoid slamming head first into his father’s side.

He came to a lurching stop just before he rammed into Ragnar’s shoulder, tilting his head back to look up at the man as he squinted in a ‘no fair’ fashion.

Tveir made a small sound that if he had vocal cords more developed would have been a laugh at his brother. He watched as his brother slammed on the brakes and he studied his father looking for anyway out. he had sat down momentarily to figure out how to snake out of the den without his mother scolding him or catching him before he broke free. There was a wide world out there and he wanted to see it, it just wasn't fair.

There was space between his father's legs maybe if he got a burst of speed he could break right through....He sidled up to his brother pretending to see if he was okay adn then with a small yip he tried to run beneath his father's legs to the wide world outside, he was intent upon catching that light, no matter what.

He ignored Thistle's sharp reprimand as he continued on towards freedom, hoping his father wouldn't catch him.

I sorta forgot about this thread, sorry guys *winces*

So much rumbling she tried to sleep through it but now even her brothers were making noises. Finally she rolled over and yawned, her milky blue gaze looked toward the bright entrance of the den, her brothers were getting in trouble again. Ignoring them she set up getting her own heart desires.

Gyda stumbled under mother's head and whined up at her chin. She sat on her bottom and leaned back almost in a begging position then she began to lift her paws upward toward thistle's mouth, attempting to shove her nose against the underside of moms jaws. The ultimate epitome of begging. She wanted that glorious meat! it tasted divine. She ignore her brothers; if she played her cards right she would get all the meat while they were getting in trouble.

It's ok! <3 Also slight PP of Gunnar if you'd like me to change it Danni let me know!

Ein, it appeared to Ragnar, seemed to be following in the brave Tveir’s footsteps as he dashed towards the mouth of the den, his expression entirely too ferocious for a young child, ignoring Thistle’s warnings as he charged towards the entrance just as Ragnar had slid down in, blocking the child’s barbarous charge towards the outside world. Ein attempted to stop himself, skidding along the floor of the den, the small scrapes his claws made wild as he attempted to avoid slamming into Ragnar’s side only narrowly avoiding it. “þolinmæði, sonur. Þú vilja vita umheiminn fljótlega” Ragnar chided his eldest son in a stern voice, glimpsing at Thistle in exasperation as he knew that this would not be the end of this plight. It made him nervous because they would soon be on their month-day and he could perform the ritual that needed to take place before they could truly go out into the world. He needed them to understand the importance of it, that keeping them in the protection of the den was not torture but to ensure their safety and to not anger the Gods.

It seemed that Tveir had gotten brave from Ein’s escape attempt and after toddling up to Ein on the pretense of checking if the eldest boy was ok he yipped and darted for the space between Ragnar’s legs. Thistle’s rephremand was loud and panicked and on instinct Ragnar spun around as the child slipped between him like a thief, dirt crumbling from where the Viking’s shoulders slammed and brushed against the ceiling, a low growl erupting from his throat as he reached out and grasped the boy’s scruff, his grip firm (but not hard enough to break skin or anything), another growl slipping betwixt his teeth, clenched with Tveir’s scruff as he turned back around and barred the mouth of the den with the length of his body, setting the boy down. “Nei” He told the children — or rather the boys since Gyda seemed contented on proding Thistle for food — sternly hoping that the change in his voice would get the message across.

You shall not pass.

Ragnar’s tone was harsh and firm, scolding and Ein’s ears slicked back to his skull as his eyes adverted, not liking the rough tones his father was choosing to use with him. He had only wanted a taste of the outside world. Why was it such a bad thing? Ein watched Tveir approach him and for a moment the eldest thought that the other boy was genuinely concerned about him before he yipped and darted off to slip past Ragnar leaving Ein standing there with a twitching ear, his upper lip curled back ever so slightly in his irritation that his younger brother had used him. There was sweet justice served, however, when Ragnar caught Tveir and set him down and scolded him, too, though he didn’t use as many words, his tone just as hard and stern and unforgiving as it had been when he had scolded Ein. The child let out a hiccup of a sound that would someday become a laugh as he reveled in Tveir’s failure.

Thistle obliged the youngest child and retching up the remnants of the meal she had before. She nosed the little girl gently.

Tveir stared at his father with abject sullenness. He wanted to go outside he was tired of being stuck in the den day after day when there were so many sounds and sights and smells that wafted in when his father would return. It just wasn't fair. He heard the noise his brother made and with a small growl he turned and headed straight for him in an awkward shuffle, he needed to vent his frustration on something and why not on his brother he could take it. Besides he rolled and chewed and snapped at Tveir enough that he figured he could return the favor at least once. He attempted to tackle and using his weight hold him down as he chewed unmercilessly on his brothers ear.

Atta delighted in the smell, and toppled into the food with great enthusiasm, she had no idea that laying on the food to claim it all as hers was going to earn her a bath later. She had not put two and two together in that respect yet. If she had she would have tried harder to stay clean, she was not happy about getting tongue baths, she always felt cool and damp afterward.

As she gummed her food, she eyed her bothers seriously, she wanted no part in the rough house, even though she felt she could make them both roll on their back for her. She eyes rolled up to 'the rumbler' she loved to hear his rumble normally, but today she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear that tone again. She would try hard not to earn that tone in her direction, now if only she could remember what her bothers had done to get the tone she'd know not to replicate it.

Adding a crappy ending to this one as well so it, too, can be archived and used for EXP.

Ragnar watched the boys rough house for a few moments letting out a soft chuckle of content, before his eyes went to Gyda, studying her for a few moments. She was quiet, eyeing the boys with disdain as she gummed the regurgitated food Thistle had heaved back up. Nicked muzzle wrinkled slightly in distaste as the thought before he looked to Thistle, giving her a suggestive eye wiggle once before he stretched and rose as best he could, stepping over the boys. “I have patrols to run but I will return.” With those words he parted from his small family, leaving them to their own devices.