Bitterroot Valley objects of ceremony

Miska spent the next few days canvassing the valley territory he had signed up to guard, passing @Sega now and again on his  spiraling route from the center. They exchanged silent looks or a nod, if anything at all, and continued on their way.

He spent one afternoon watching another pretty, leggy yearling @Angel Oak expend too much energy on a solo turkey hunt. To her credit, she persevered where many would have quit, and eventually made her kill. Miska decided would coach her into a decent hunter. He enjoyed her distant voice with closed eyes before moving on.

It was evening now, and Miska sat just beyond the line where the hard scrubland of Bitterroot Valley transitioned into a flat plain in the west. Above him, a performance of the world's beginning in slow motion - a sunset so bold and so bright that you could only sit and watch in awe. Great sky indeed.

sega found him there, dark shape cut against the fire of the sky. the sun spilled gold across the land, turning the scrub to ember and the air to smoke. for a while, he said nothing—only stood near, breath slow, watching the same horizon.

you walk far, he said at last, his voice low, words halting in his rough common. good. valley know your step now. a pause, a faint nod. strong guard.

his eyes followed the sun as it sank lower, long shadows stretching between them. great sky, he murmured, using the words he spoke like prayer. always watching.

then, a glance toward the other male, not unkind. you stay here long, miska? sega asked, the question carrying more weight than curiosity. many come, many go. few… belong.

He felt Sega's presence at his back as the display reached a crescendo, but heard no voice. The two men sat in silence until the sky began to smolder and the darkness thickened, swallowing Miska's dark fur.

He was tickled to receive praise for something that had been achieved without violence or terror. His paws ached pleasantly, and there was a stillness in Miska's soul that he had not known for a long time.

"Great sky," he echoed. "I look for new life, bracie Sega. Good life, where maybe I am guard, maybe have singing wife. I am seeing almost four winter - HA! Can you believing? Only young or insane choose life of brotherhood after four winter." He flashed Sega a grin. "I am only little insane. Sometime it good to have." In a more sober tone, eyes lit by the lingering glow of sunset, he said, "This good land. Need guard."

hah. little insane keep wolf alive, he said, eyes glinting faint in the firelight. too sane die early.

he sank to his haunches beside miska, shoulders easing. the silence between them felt full, not empty.

good dream, he said after a time. guard with laugh. hunter with heart. great sky like that.

his gaze returned to the dimming horizon. you stay, miska. land remember name. wife come when season right.

"hah. little insane keep wolf alive," Sega said to much nodding and a string of mm-hm, mm-hm from Miska. They sat in easy silence for a time after that. Time's great loom wove a new thread into their shared tapestry; pale blue and lovely.

When Sega spoke again, a smattering of brave stars had winked into existence in the slow-spreading black above their heads. "Hm," Miska breathed. Season of the wife. "I stay," he agreed. "Bracia no good for wife and childrens. It is like show throat to enemy and say 'please, only kiss'." Miska raised his chin, revealing a pronounced gap in his thick fur - the relic of lips from long ago.

He shot Sega a side-long glance, chin still on the air. "What of brother Sega? What stinking old life you are sacrifice to great sky?"

sega huffed, a low sound that might’ve been a laugh if it had more air in it. his gaze lifted to the stars, then back to miska, something wry tugging at the corner of his muzzle.

old life? he echoed, voice rough. hn. not much left to sacrifice.

he shifted, shoulders rolling beneath his thick coat.

river take some. flood take rest. wandering take all the pieces between.

a pause — then he tipped his chin toward the dark stretch of land around them, his land, forming itself bone by bone.

great sky… that what i build now, he said. not tribe yet. but start.

another small flick of his tail in the dirt. almost sheepish. almost proud.

so i give old life to wind, sega added, glancing at him. and make new one here. with who stay.

Sega made a sound like someone who had once laughed loudly and often, then never again. A rusty sound. Miska made a quiet promise that he would oil those hinges, drop by drop, and bring forth the ha-HA he knew lay hidden in Sega's chest.

But not tonight.

"What wolf you have for tribe?" he asked instead, studying the stars. "I meeting singing girl, and seeing very bad turkey hunter."

sega’s ear twitched, the faint ghost of amusement pulling at his scarred cheek. miska’s words drifted up with the stars, and for a moment he let them hang there — easy, light, something good.

hn, he rumbled, settling deeper into the earth beside him. tribe still small.

his gaze lifted toward the black sweep of sky, constellations scattered like old memories.

two boys, he said after a beat, voice low. young. stubborn. need guiding.

another quiet breath.

twitch come back, he added, softer, some warmth threading through the rough edges. she part of tribe too.

his tail brushed the ground once, slow, thoughtful.

a pause, then the faintest huff — almost a laugh, almost.

singing girl… and bad turkey hunter, sega murmured. maybe tribe grow fast.

Two sassy children and someone named after a nervous tick. Miska sucked air through his teeth. They were a pot of leftovers thrown together on the last night before payday.

"This fine," he declared, even though the mere thought of having to school two young boys was exhausting. "Young is good - can bend. Ah, no - I nice wolf now, so I do teach," he corrected with a toothy grin.

Then, leaping from one thread to another, "Sega liking this Twitch? " Miska's brows waggled in the dark. "This only name you saying."

sega’s smirk was a small thing, more in the eyes than the mouth, but real. miska’s teasing rolled off him like rain off stone— familiar, expected, almost welcome.

he gave a low grunt, half amusement, half dismissal. hn. not like that, he muttered, though the idea wasn’t entirely thrown away. twitch was young still, tucked behind her own walls. she needed warmth, not weight.

yet his gaze softened when he spoke next. she must grow, he said. come out of shell. world bigger than fear. a pause, then a slow tilt of his head toward miska. you help. you loud. she need loud.

Not like that, apparently. Miska shrugged, but a teasing smile lingered under the cover of dark.

At Sega's  suggestion that he would be part of the girl's growth, Miska befouled the air with a few beats of coarse, wide-mouthed laughter. "HA! This is most fine compliments to Miska, bracie Sega! It come from ass?" Said in jest, but with the faintest aroma of actual gratitude.

"We see. I am flavor that needing many, many taste. Sophisticate! Wyrafinowany smak!" In fact, a great many packs between the brotherhood and Great Sky had either rejected Miska outright or grown tired of his mouth within a matter of days. What Sega had received was a much improved wolf - a man that had taken feedback, albeit reluctantly.

Night had claimes the world. Miska stood. "I walk," he announced, intending to find a nice divot to sleep in. "Tomorrow I find pani not-like-that."

sega’s smirk deepened at miska’s bark of laughter, the sharp sound rolling through the dark like a thrown stone. he shook his head once, a slow amused motion, as if brushing off the jest but accepting the sentiment beneath it.

hn. good plan, he rumbled, voice warm despite its rough edges. you help. she need wolf who make world louder.

there was truth there— and trust. miska’s chaos, his humor, his boldness… all things twitch needed at her back if she was going to step out of her shell.

as miska rose, sega’s gaze followed, steady and approving.

tomorrow, he echoed, a low hum forming in his chest. you find her. she not bite hard.

a beat, then the faintest curl at the corner of his mouth.

maybe.