Neverwinter Forest the shade is a tool,

for @Pangur !!

it was scout-woman who he sought, steps lightening, though heavy from his size, as if the lethargy had slowly begun to seep from his mind to his chest, and now slowly travelling through his legs as it prepared to leave him, drained through his pawsteps as he continued through the neverwinter, making rounds and checking in on packmates.

he had heard of pangur, recently made náttfari, and so the sögumaðr would seek conversation and knowing, wishing to learn more of the wolves in which he shared a forest with. rökkur would search for her by scent, letting the wind carry him, and slowly he would approach until her presence grew closer upon the breeze. rökkur begun trotting, a quick, summoning howl leaving his lips as he called for her presence.

pangur? he tested, voice low, rumbling from his chest like the beats of a ceremonial drum. his voice came again: are you around, náttfari? dark paws carried him closer.

Pangur had been scouting the forest, familiarizing herself to every groove in the earth, each tree rooted into the soil, each stream that ran through the land. The borders had been quiet, no excitement to offer today, but that was plenty fine with her. Instead, the quiet gave way for contemplation, prayer.

An owl looked down from tall branches, and Pangur met with her eye. hafðu þennan stað í blessun þinni, gyðja mín She uttered words of love into the air, and sat beneath the great old tree, humming a quiet tune. She felt a great connection to this place, the strings of attchment spun into the web of her heart.

She hoped móður looked on her and smiled.

A howl rang close, and soon enough a voice would accompany it from the side, spurring her to rise to her feet, ears perked curiously Ah! Hallo! She would greet with a smile and a wave of her tail.

it seemed he had caught her by surprise, and for that he gave an apologetic dip of his head. then, he was quick to introduce himself, saying: i did not mean to startle. i am rökkur, you are pangur, yes? his tail flicked behind him as he spoke. i wish to properly get to know the wolves of forneskja. my apologies for not convening with you earlier, i seem to have lost track of time, a dry chuckle left him, then.

so, he settled himself into a seated position, and said: please, tell me of yourself.

She sat back down as he did, tail curling around her hide as easy comfort returned to her. Oh do not feel sorry! You must have been busy! It has been an exciting moon. She brushed away his worries with a light-hearted laugh, and sweeps a paw through the snow thoughtfully, the cougar-made grooves now merely thin, healing lines cut through golden fur.

I am náttfari now. Her voice could not withhold the pride on her breath. Before, I was traveller, I came to this forest for healing and met with Harkonungr. She paused, a glimmer of mischief in her eye He simply could not resist my wit and charm and so he invited me in and said 'Oh mighty Pangur, we have been waiting for you.' She spoke with great exaggeration and matched her words with dramatic reeneactment, a wry grin worming its way across her face.

Pangur snickered and straightened her posture, amused I joke. You are Sögumaðr yes? I have also collected many stories, in my travels. It is a wonderful thing, no?

sorry for the delay
he listened with dark, eager ears as she spoke, flicking his tail and nodding every now and then as to demonstrate his listening. náttfari! he said, smiling, with a tilt of his head and an impressed raise of his brows. well done! for he enjoyed seeing the promotions that came within the woods, the effort that was put into packlife, here.

ah, well, i am most blessed to sit before the mighty pangur, came a jest of his own, before adopting a more serious - though no less friendly - expression. a nice change of pace for a face that was so often stoic. yes, i am sögumaðr, came a nod. both the collection and the telling of stories ; yes, it is quite the wonderful thing. such is the reason that i have decided to devote my life to it, for it is such a beautiful task.

rökkur gave a small hum, before saying: do you, too, strive to join the ironbark circle? it is fairly lonely, with only @Iruna and i, a chuckle. perhaps framvísi would suit you, hm? though there was nothing upon his face that could suggest any sort of pressure, instead he was curious to have another join the circle, just as he did.

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common · Íslenska · norse
thread titles taken from for the dancing & the dreaming

Pangur struggled to hide the fluster of her cheeks as she was praised, for once, she did not let her humble nature dismiss her accomplishment. Aha! You flatter me, sögumaðr. She laughed and then gave a dip of her head in respect.

He spoke his passions for his title and Pangur felt a kindred fire flicker within. Carrying the great honour of preserving old tales, collecting new ones, he was right as he called it a beautiful task.

framvísi, he suggested; joining the circle. Of course she wanted to!! Pangur withheld the vibration in her limbs. I would be honoured to have the title. She nodded, looking off into the sprawling forest, blankets of snow on every treebranch. If it is where I can serve Forneskja the best, I will strive for it.

oh mighty pangur indeed, climbing the social ladder at record speeds!