Moonsong Glacier isha

the older he grew, the more sleep evaded him.

aditya would usually not be comfortable upon this icy land—but it was incredible what the body could withstand when the mind was firm. his son was here; his son had taken his destiny into his paws.

adi would deal with wind and snow and bitter cold to not let arjun down again.

and even still. . .  the old man meditated upon a stout holly bush at the edge of the territory, bathed in moonlight. the plant survived here; why couldn't he? the berries within the dark green mass were as bright as the stars in the heavens.

he raised one hind leg and sprayed upon the brush, mixing his scent with the rest of the morningsong wolves.

while he was here, he would set himself to work. and while he was at work in the service of his son, he would be content.

ॐ पूर्णमदः पूर्णमिदम् पूर्णात् पूर्णमुदच्यते |
पूर्णस्य पूर्णमादाय पूर्णमेवावशिष्यते ||

A silent figure of sunset and fire came to mark the borders in turn. Many things turned about in his head, but his face was a narrow bullet in its determination. 

Sniff, search, mark, repeat.

A man of glacier frost and evergreen, hints of wildflowers within his fur. He was Fallen Sun, sunset man, Rabbit - he went by many names and in turn gave many to those his tongue couldn't pronounce. 

Sniff, search, mark, repeat.

Today, he marked the borders, busy as a beehive in newspring.

a man bright as flames joined him, soon, though without much acknowledgement. aditya gave him a gentle whuff of greeting, for his part, and then carried on for a few more wordless moments, albeit moving slower than the other wolf.

i don't think we've been introduced, adi remarked, finally, with a small smile. i'm aditya—dutch's father. and you?

something told him this might not be a wolf of many words, but he felt compelled to extend the olive branch, anyway.

Indeed the man was not one for words, nor did he understand half of what he heard. He stopped with one paw raised, finally realizing another was nearby. 

A sniff told him this man was not to fear - for he smelt of moonpack, and that was acceptable. Fallen Sun thought only of moonpack and those not of moonpack; often he looked to others for opinions before deciding upon his own judgement when faced with loners.

Sunset - as he was called from time to time - wuffed in turn to the older man. The tone was questioning; often, a name was given. 

Fahlin suhn. he wuffed, the closest he'd come to getting it right.

he didn't expect an answer, but when one came, his face lit with delight.

fallen sun, he repeated. it suits you, yaar. that wildfire pelt was just right.

with a small chuckle, he carried on, gesturing for the younger man to fall in step with him as he carried on along the border.

my son appreciates your help, i am sure, adi went on, even if he doubted the man's comprehension. it felt good to talk aloud, anyway. you seem strong and loyal. that is good.

and how many of these types had settled in morningside, and other ventures of his? they were good. they were steadfast. words meant little as long as they were constant.