Horizon Ridge Memories of Yester and Yore

Gunnar slid faded paws of sandy gloves across the ground. Masked steel eyes stared up and around. He didn't know quite yet where he was going, only that he wished to go. He stopped and stared at the final place he had come, and bowed his head as he looked out over the ridge. 

It had been impressive once, he saw the pile of rubble where the ridge had once stood. Eyes tracing along it's spine. His mother had often told him of the story, of what had happened. She would whisper of it in her quiet voice. Ragnar would share tidbits too, the few moments when his guard was down and he spoke with his children unguarded and raw. 

He missed his parents, he hadn't realized how much until just that moment. His father had died, and he had cried for days, but he had also feasted and regaled in stories of his father. His parents had not been perfect, he liked to think of them as imperfectly perfect for each other.

He nosed around until he found the old whelping den. And he settled there. It was now falling apart, but he remembered some of it, not much. The smells, Julooke, Verrine.

he sang as he went.

"th' fierst thing ai rememb'r know-ing,

vas ae lone-some whistle blow-ing,

aend ae young-un's dream of growin up tchu riiide~

oen ae freight thcrain leav-ing taun,

nat know-ing vhere aem baund,

no-one could change mai mind

bat мама tchriiied~

van aend lonely reb'l child,

fram ae femly meek aend mild,

mai мама seemed tchu know vhat lay in stooore~"

the bard padded on.

A song broke the silence that Gunnar had follow into. It swirled and winged around him, tearing seams in the silence. He tilted his head listening, finding truth in the song, but not what the song said itself, rather how different his life was compared to the song.

His mother had not been meek or mild, neither had his father. And he was not a rebel, rather he was the meek and mild mannered one in a sense. He wasn't sure how to feel about it, but at the same time, it sort of soothed his soul while chafing it at the same time. Gunnar had always had embers of ambition, had always wanted to be a little more than what he was, until he realized it could destroy. He saw it in Ragnar and Thistle, in Junior, so many ambitious beings. And their ambition destroyed them.

He finally chuffed to let the singer know he was sitting there. That he had heard him, because perhaps this strange looking creature would want to have a conversation or at the very least know that his singing didn't go unheard.

Gunnar took a moment to take this creature in. He was not a wolf, but he looked like one in some aspects, but he also looked like he was wearing seaweed for hair. He couldn't see any eyes, it was just unusual.

a chuff, and the singer halted, quieted, to make sure it wasn't imagined.

his head turned to where the greeting-on-the-wind had come from, and he saw a wolf, within the earth, only his neck and head poking out.

the heavy tail began to sway. slavuj gave a bark in return, and padded over to the hole-in-the-ground.

( while approaching, his head angled to look in each direction, make sure the wolf was the only one around. )

he came perhaps too close, if his theory that he'd intruded upon a lone wolf's land was real.

"gued day, groundman!" the dog greeted with a grin. "are yeau ae dirt spirit, may-be?"

Gunnar was confused, groundman? Dirt spirit? What on earth did this creature mean. Then he realized, his coloring, and with a chuckle he slowly unfurled from the ground. The sandy paws and legs mixing in with the brown, clear that he was not of the ground, merely colored like it.

None of those I fear, simply Gunnar. He dipped his muzzle in greeting. How do you do? You sing well, by the way.

Gunnar wagged his tail once, though he kept his body slightly wary. This dog had come very close to him. Not that he minded, and he had chuffed first, but it was instinct to be wary, to tighten, to wonder if he would be attacked.

"thenk yeau thenk yeau, and mai apolojies for th' miss-i-dent-fiction. but," he swayed froward to whisper conspirationally. "if yeau do see ae spirit, ask dem vhere dey hid th' half o' gull ai entrusted dem. awful bankers, deir type."

slavuj rolled back on his feet with a chuckle, still mirthful and wagging.

"enyway, vhat causes volf to hide in random hole laik ae badger? unless," in-between tassels, his eyes brightened. "yeau are expecting, sir?"

sorry that all my dogs are incredibly weird

Gunnar chuckled and shook his head. I've not seen spirits in some time. Some sprites. I met a god once. Gilded in black with one eye. He flew on feathered wings of grace, and he had an awful attitude.

Gunnar smiled genially, his tail waving to and fro. This dog beast was strange, but endearing and he found his company pleasing. They do like to steal. Gulls shouldn't get much, awful creatures. No manners. He shrugged playfully. 

The next question completely threw him off guard and he stared for a moment, but then he shook his head. I am not ah expecting. Not the write anatomy and no mate to speak of. So no young to be expected.

slavuj maintained an intense, over-eager stare after his last question, and let there be an awkward silence after the answer.

then he threw his head back, tassels spilling over shoulders, and laughed.

"ou- ou ai sorri dat ai aesk such queschion." he wiped mirthful tears away with a dreaded paw. "is mostly for camedy, aend part kyuriosity. knew ae woeman once - better equipped than mi (nou smaell feat), aend since ai cannot trust eyes nor nose." he heartily chuckled to himself.

"but ghoo-nar, ai must hear more about tchat gad! vas it raeven? ai don't tchhink ae bleck chicken vould be aes intimijating."

Gunnar shifted under the scrutiny, tongue lolling out. This dog beast, was a few coast short of an ocean he thought. But he was pleasant company, and his accent was pleasing a cadence, Gunnar didn't know.

When the beast suddenly threw his head back, Gunnar winced, but no blow came. Instead a boisterous laugh rose and twirled around him. He stared wide eyed at the dog, unsure what to do or say.

Gunnar smiled. Should not be so disrespectful of the birds of Odin. You don't think Ravens are not intimidating? Then you've met the wrong ravens. Gunnar twisted his mind through years of memories, searching for the one, he spoke of. it had been so long ago, now. Him a mere child, his father's religion ever there.

It was big and black, had one eye. It stared down at me with beady eyes. Croaked words I didn't fully understand, but father he followed him to the sea.

eager to hear the old man's story, slavuj laid down, his tail a duster in the hands of a vigorous maid.

"fader? yeaur fader? vhere aend vhen vas dis, if ai mai aesk?" his mental image was of a distant land, likely cold, misty and thick with evergreen trees, where this earth spirit in shape of (aged-wine-handsome) man grew up a viking.

Gunnar smiled at his audience, and settled to his haunches tail slowly rat-tat-tatting on the ground. As he fed the dogs imagination, with stories of his youth. It had been so long ago, that he had trouble at first remembering.

I was young then, not quite 2 years old. Father followed the raven to our new home, and that was how he determined that this would be our new home. After all, the beast to father's eye in payment for the knowledge of a new home.

a gasp.

"guided by bird tchu promised lend!" one exposed eye glimmered. "ai swear, dere vas some story ai heard, jest aes same."

his brows scrunched in effort to remember.

"vas it ae song? nou nou, den ai vould reamember..." he briefly descended into muttering.

after it, he beamed the old man a grin.

"bat! yeau sai "dis"-" the komondor looked around the place they occupied. "yeau mean tchu sai dis vas lend of yeaur people?"

he leaned forward.

"vhere are dei nouw?"

Gunnar smiled at his gasp. Yes they were. Gunnar chuckled and shifted, lots of stories like that.

This dog was amusing to the old timer. He liked him. He was also kind.

Yes, my people hailed from here. But we moved, scattered. Once father died. We all sort of lost our way. 

Gunnar briefly thought on thst bad time. His parents fall from grace. His father's death, his mother's melancholy.

slavuj slid forward to lay down, to look up at the older male from the perspective of an eager pup. 

he felt - or at least assumed, as it would make for a good narrative - that the pack's disbandment was not a pleasant memory. much more softly he asked;

"vhere did laif take yeau after it?" to part from the shore was unimaginable to the dog, who had talent only to fish and chase gulls.

Gunnar lowered his voice. Father claimed it cursed and it took his aspirations with it.  Perhaps it had been a cruel trick by Odin or even Loki to hurt them all so. Take them to paradise and dash it all to pieces with the patriarchs death. A lesson as it were.

I traveled, i ran but i always returned to the sea and he had. She called him like a lover that he could never forsake. Always calling.

bearded head was now on paws, the dog shuffling nearer the aged narrator.

"vhat ouf yeaur femily? did dei travel wit'? aend th' raeven? did it.. retchurn?"

Gunnar leaned forward to touch nose to dogs head. A small smile on his wizened muzzle. This dog was endearing. And quite a captive audience.

A sad look graced his face and shook his head. Mother found me once in awhile. Father died. My siblings like leaves to the wind. Mother and farher are buried together though. I found my mothers bones on the grave of my father so lay them to rest, together. 

The raven never returned.

the touch sent a warm chill down the younger man's body, and he found himself bashfully arranging his bangs to more properly cover his face, which had grown hot beneath the fur.

blessed and cursed by a raven. the tale of gunnar's life was a sad one, leaving him all alone in his old age. at least as much did the komondor assume.

"aend nauw?" breathlessly he questioned. "vhat do yeau do nauw?"

Gunnar remembered often the way hblood ran hit when he was a young wolf. As he fought to become something, anything his parents could be proud of.

Gunnar was alone, but he had dealt with it. And he wasn't sad or bitter about it.

I joined a pack and i help them. Provide, teach where ever they have a need of me. he liked his place in the world.

slavuj raised his head, then nodded. 

"ai see."

a part of him was disappointed. to join a pack seemed a... type of surrender. but at least it ended the story sweet and neat.

he rose to his feet, shaking out his fur.

"ahh, aend," he smiled again at the older man. "vhere is dat pack of yeaurs nau?"

Once upon a time, Gunnar wouldve agreed with him. He'd been a loner most of his life. Had enjoyed it too. But he was old now. And tired.

That way, run by women, strong like the sea. He enjoyed being ruled by sea queens. It reminded him of, well, home.

"women?" the younger man, meaning to depart, looked again to gunnar. "mermaids." that was said to the air above gunnar's head, eyes aglisten with wonder.

then he focused again on the man, and dropped in a playbow. "oeld maen, yeau've inchroduced mi tchu ae thing so wonjerful!" slavuj leapt from spot to spot, making joking lunges at the wolf.

Gunnar chuckled. I prefer to think of them as sea queens, but they maybeermaids. Something as mystica as they. Gunnar smiled kindly.

He returned the play bows and snapped hos teeth gently. He couldn't play as he used too. But he could play a little.

the younger one laughed, teasing the older. 

then he retreated, running to tempt the other into a race trough the trees.

no matter if the old man from the kingdom of seawomen could follow, at the lip of the ridge slavuj would turn and bark.

"thaenk yeau, groundman! ae story is currency unmatched! by th' shore straight fram here, there's ae blaeck tchree snapped in haelf. in th' roots, ai vill leave yeau ae fish by tchmorrow!" 

he rose to his hinds and twirled like a drunk human, laughing with pure joy of one easily enamoured by story, by person, by world. 

"aend samdey, ai vill come hear stories ouf th' sea queens!"