Moonspear Synchronicity

backdated to feb 6th

Each day since singing songs for the dead Njord felt lighter. Awake. Alive.

Or, perhaps, it wasn’t the songs, but the act of putting words to the feelings in his heart and sharing them with his wife.

It permitted grief to pass through him like water in a river until the emotions flowed out into the sea of memory. There was sadness still, yes. There would always be. But Njord gained the renewed strength to move forward – instead of allowing himself to be moored by all the tragedy which had nearly capsized his heart.

Moonspear seemed to reflect this. It was an uncharacteristically sunny afternoon. The man hunted for a proper Ulaq for @Meerkat. He had come across many promising sites, but this one seemed special. An old, gnarled tree grew out the side of a large slab of moss-covered stone. Beneath the trunk was a wide burrow with a warm dirt floor. Njord stuck his head in to inspect it more closely…

Not long after her inaugural howl for their son, Meerkat went to find her husband. They were never far apart, so the search didn’t take long. The first thing she spotted was his rear end sticking out of a large opening, which made her brows raise a little. Perhaps in different circumstances, she may have pounced him and playfully sunk her teeth into that juicy bum.

But she wasn’t quite in the mood for such shenanigans, so she only sidled alongside him, poking her head into the dark space beneath what must have been one of the mountain’s oldest trees. The scent of damp wood immediately triggered a bunch of Meerkat’s memories.

It makes me think of the place where I was born, she mused aloud. My mom didn’t know she was going to have me, so she didn’t have a den prepared. When I arrived, she tucked the two of us into the nearest place that would pass for a den: an old log. I don’t really remember it much but there was another place in the copse they called The Nest. It was a lot like this.

She slanted her muzzle sideways to catch Njord’s eye, wondering what he thought of this potential ulaq.

Meerkat’s gentle presence joined her husband as he scrutinized the available piece of real estate. No stick or stone would go unturned, but he paused and became captivated by his wife’s nostalgia. Squirreling away these stories always made Njord feel more connected with his better half.

“Ah like that it brings ye those nice memories,” Njord mused as his eyes scanned the arc of roots and the quality of their structure. “Tis much grander than our den in tha Greatpine, hmm? Ah’d always meant tae find ye somethin’ better than that wee bachelor pad,” he said with a breathy, self-deprecating laugh. “’Ow did ye ever manage a wink of sleep with three growin’ bairns?”

Njord lowered his head and crawled inside. “Tha ground it dry,” he observed aloud. “One of tha walls is stone… shelves, here.” He inspected the small recesses in its cracks and imagined his wife with many fine things.

Njord’s head reemerged when his snout pushed out a pile of debris. “Could use a good cleanin’, though.” Suddenly he reeled back and sneezed.

He spoke of their old den in the woods by the beach. Meerkat abruptly remembered a few prized possessions they’d left there, never to be retrieved, her “engagement conch” among them. More than that, they’d made so many memories there. They wouldn’t be able to revisit any of it ever again, a thought which made her bitterly angry and deeply sad in a single blow.

Fortunately, she was able to control her expression and even responded to her husband’s well-meaning and rhetorical questions by saying, Isn’t there some tired old saying that goes, ‘home is where the heart is’ or something like that? It doesn’t matter what it looks like, what matters is who’s in it with me.

However, the fact that this potential ulaq boasted dry floors and shelving perked her interest. She watched Njord take a look inside before retreating with a sneeze. Meerkat huffed an amused breath, licking at one of her toes before reaching out to rub a spot of dirt off Njord’s nose.

Looking around, she observed aloud, I think there’s a stream not far from here too. That makes me think of another saying I’ve heard: ‘location, location, location!’

She chortled, then bumped her muzzle against her mate’s and finally stepped inside herself. Meerkat slung her right flank against the wall to avoid blocking the light as she took several moments to just pore over every inch of the place with her eyes. It was too bad about their few possessions—they could’ve been given places of honor on the natural mantelpiece honed from stone—but perhaps it was best that they hadn’t brought anything from their previous life with them except for one another.

That pelt Sialuk gave us will fit perfectly right here, Meerkat said after a moment, backing into the doorway so Njord could see where she pointed. I think this could be the one.

Meerkat’s gratuitous comments made the pride in Njord’s expression shine a little bit brighter. Safe, sturdy walls and a water source made this plot a coveted spot. Njord could only wonder… how many generations of mothers had raised their young here before?

The man moved aside to let his wife inspect the potential bower. Her word would be the final verdict. Njord found himself holding his breath with anticipation! But he did not rush her decision.

Slowly, she appraised the den and all its intricacies with a woman’s discerning eye. A pelt here. Furnishings! Njord’s large smile made his blue eyes squint. “We can expand that wall,” he pointed out, “if ye prefer it roomier.” Njord would not settle for less than perfection... but all things considered, Meerkat called it the one.

"Ar nead,“ the rough timber of his voice rumbled with happiness. ”Our nest.“

Njord slipped back into the den and laid down on his side. His long arms outstretched towards Meerkat, inviting his paramour in to be the little spoon for a cuddle session. “Come close, mo chride,” he beckoned.

Njord mentioned expansion, though Meerkat only shook her head. She liked the cozy snugness the den offered. It might get a little cramped if Stingray stayed with (and Swordfish returned to) them and they bore a large litter, yet Meerkat was the type who liked her loved ones close.

It’s perfect, she said at the same time as Njord called it, “our nest,” which brought about a small chuckle.

Soon after, he moved back inside and made himself comfortable, then beckoned for her to join him. Meerkat didn’t hesitate to slither into the spot where she fit alongside Njord, tucking her backbone against the broader sweep of her mate’s flank and underbelly. She bent her head so that the crown of her skull bumped his chin, making a purling noise under her breath.

Turning her gaze toward the door, Meerkat could see trees dotting the nearby slope. Beyond them lay a sliver of the horizon. It wasn’t too different from the view back in the pine forest above the cliffs, though the air she drew into her nose smelled only of fresh air and snow. There was no salt, no pounding of the surf. And she was glad for it.