Moonspear phalanx

The past few months of Glaukos' life were a blur. He had fallen in to a routine of roaming, eating, sleeping; rinse and repeat, ad nauseum. There were no new contracts for the mercenary because there were no people; he encountered little in the ways of civilization during the time away from the Wilds, and from the doldrums of this — left alone with his thoughts — he came to the understanding that the wilderness was not suitable for him, or he would go mad.

He arrived to the valley by way of the coast, mindlessly, and it wasn't until the mountain was looming over him that he took notice of his surroundings and recognized them. The thought of going further did enter his mind; but he was hungry, tired from the road, and admittedly lonely enough to linger along the animal trails leading to Moonspear proper.

Had the bear returned? Treepie’s toes curled around the lip of rock as she squinted down at the figure marching toward the foot of Moonspear far below. She shook her head when she realized it was only a wolf—a very large one, she supposed.

It took some time to descend the slopes. With the ranks so sparse, she considered herself a de facto guardian. It had even occurred to her that she could claim leadership here, as one of the only remaining loyalists. Pie had no desire to unseat her uncle and still struggled with her sense of worth, though if not her… then who?

When her paws hit even ground, she took a breath and squared her shoulders. Her gaze had never left the stranger, who was indeed remarkably large in stature. Despite this, she tipped her chin upward and kinked her tail, recalling those days before the bungled leadership retreat as her electric yellow eyes ate into the man’s face.

Greetings, stranger. What brings you to Moonspear?

Before he could climb too far, and before he crossed any boundaries, there was a face and a voice greeting him. The stranger was very young — probably born right here, he would assume.

Looking for a place to stay. No beating around the bush. Glaukos would have offered his services in return but to be honest, he didn't even think of it. How long had it been since he had encountered a person? Whatever was considered his normal had melted away from him.

He looked from the youth to the pathways among the trees. Does Sialuk still rule here? I am known to her. It occurred to Glaukos, then, that this young warrior might have bee one of her children. He looked again to the stranger, studying them a touch more intently.

One of her canines pressed gently into her lower lip at his answer. She didn’t quite mistrust him, yet she had to wonder what made him choose this place. He didn’t leave her to wonder long, the mention of her mother’s name making her breath catch in her throat.

Ignoring the ache in her chest—and his own question—Tiuttuk pressed, How do you know her? What is your name?

Perhaps she might recognize it. Even if she didn’t, his familiarity with her anaa certainly vouched for him. He wouldn’t approach if it was a bad relationship, surely. Tiuttuk quietly pondered this, even as she patiently awaited answers.

Glaukos, he went on to introduce. I am a soldier-for-hire. For a time I was one of her suitors, and I lived here until I was called away.

That was one way to put it. He hadn't been among the wolves of Sialuk's entourage for long, that much he knew. Their affair had been a short, sweet moment in a sea of bad memories; but maybe that was why Glaukos felt this was a good place to stay.

He couldn't go too much further east without someone recognizing him, and he knew better than to put himself on a truly harmful path without good reason.

She didn’t think she recognized his name. When he mentioned that he had been one of her mother’s suitors, Treepie’s heart throbbed in a different way. How many lovers had left her anaa behind? She called up the memory of her pale face the last time she’d seen it, so soon after striking up new bonds. Pie knew Sialuk probably missed her just as much but, gods, she was so much better off away from this place.

It probably didn’t make sense to insist on staying here herself, though Treepie shoved that thought aside to say, Sialuk isn’t here. She swallowed past a lump in her throat to say aloud, And for her sake, I hope she never comes back, as much as I miss her. I’m her daughter, Tiuttuk, and I stand here in her stead.

As she said the words, her spine stiffened and her head rose a little more. She couldn’t claim Sialuk’s title—that belonged to Alaric now—but there was no one here to refute her if she proclaimed herself a leader. Least of all the man before her.

I don’t know if you’re still interested in joining without her here, Pie said levelly, but if you are, you should know that loyalty means everything. If you’ll just end up leaving again, this isn’t the place for you.

The sentiment that Tiuttuk shared was an odd one. Glaukos blinked at her a moment, withholding any judgements he made in turn. There were many reasons to want separation from a mother, but he did not think that was what the girl meant. Perhaps the weight of ruling the mountain had been too much.

It was the pointed way the girl cautioned him that drew a crease across his brow. She spoke as if she understood the inner workings of Sialuk's mind and heart, and Glaukos doubted the details of her mother's arrangements from that time were openly shared with many.

I would live as a defender of the mountain and a hunter for your caches. I have no contracts to pull me away; nor am I looking for any. That was as much confirmation as he could garner. Is that acceptable?

It felt like a transaction all the same.

He didn’t appear deterred by her terms. Treepie realized she hadn’t anticipated that—she’d imagined the information would turn him away—and she stood there stupidly for a moment. She wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed. She could call Alaric. She should call him.

But instead, she eyed this soldier-for-hire and demanded to know, Why? Why would you do these things for us?

It wasn’t incredulity that fueled the question, though she wasn’t sure if that came across in her tone. She was simply surprised that he was still interested, despite everything. Treepie cleared her throat. She supposed he didn’t really know everything, including perhaps the most important thing: Moonspear was fading from existence.

There aren’t many left here. We could use your help, Pie admitted, and I’m not trying to change your mind. I’m just trying to make sure you understand what you’re signing up for.

She appears to be surprised. Maybe he was being too forthright? Maybe she expected him to turn tail when it became clear he didn't know anyone here, and wouldn't have someone to warm his bed. That had never been of value to Glaukos - as history had made clear.

You would be offering me the safety of a pack, so it wouldn't be for nothing. He pointed out; wanting moreover to state everything had a cost, which was another truth that ran the current of his life. He wasn't offering out of the goodness of his spirit. And I'm no stranger to hard work. I would prefer having something to do every day.

This was the most Glaukos had spoken in a while, and he blamed this sense of loneliness for the persistence he displayed now. As Sialuk's daughter I would assume the decision is left to you — unless someone else must be summoned?

Their numbers didn’t offer much safety, though Treepie didn’t repeat herself. Besides, did a wolf of his size require much protection? Her eyes drifted from his stony face downward, then back up in an assessing sweep. She was impressed and it showed on her face. He had more to offer the village than it did him.

She went still at his question, though lightning struck behind her eyes. She doubted Alaric would mind if she stepped up to the plate after all. Treepie wasn’t just a placeholder, here to keep Sialuk’s ulaq warm. She was also her mother’s heir. This mountain rightfully belonged to her, especially now that she’d proved her apodictic loyalty.

I think anaang would welcome you, so I will do the same. You should find Alaric, though, as he’s the one in charge, Pie said, perhaps a little enigmatically. Will you make a point to seek him out? And after that, we could use more border patrols. There will be plenty to keep you busy every day, she concluded, tacking on a quiet repetition of his name, as if committing it to memory, Glaukos.

It was settled, then. He gave a firm nod when told of this person — although he froze when the name Alaric came up. Ah, we have met before. But he did not want to get in to that; it had been long ago and likely would not hold too much bearing over Glaukos' status.

I will seek him out and get to work. He confirmed, giving the girl a glance as if to await dismissal. She had said his name again — softly — and seemed ready to depart herself, so it seemed the conversation was naturally concluded.

Glaukos wondered to himself about the mountain. Sialuk was gone from it, and by the state of the paths and the admittance of Tiuttuk herself, its grandeur had faltered at some point. Curious.