Grouse Thicket my bones can be scorched

the afternoon is chilly and overcast — to be expected of the winter months — and the cardinal — no. no that wasn't right. jagtooth he's decided he'll call himself in these foreign lands; a treasured souvenir lest he ever forget jagtooth summit. a trophy. a private testament to his conquest, like those old photographs of a time long since passed that brings a small and nostalgic smile to the lips of the person who'd lived it.

the young forest the grizzled regal shrugged his way through offered some buffer from the breeze but the shadows offered no additional warmth. occasionally, there would be a break in the canvas above and the clouds would drift out of the way and sunlight would touch upon the forest floor. it is during these collection of minutes that jagtooth would stop and let the sun's golden rays touch upon his back and warm him. those moments didn't last long and when the clouds drifted back to conceal the sun he would push on, winding deeper into the grouse's territory. there were plenty of the birds — taking flight to branches above his head in noisy flight when his coming presence startled them.

at least, he thinks, there is plenty of food to be found here. a small boon in the storm clouds that have settled over his ( perhaps permanently ) furrowed brow. the departure of his youngest ( he assumes because he doesn't know that to be true ) children from his side during their travel has left him more vulnerable than he'd ever care to admit.

botany thread 1

upon the isle, her mother had been a skilled healer. kukutux could think of no better way to honour the one that had borne her than by following in that path. after a period of carefully observing the plants she could see beneath the snow of the keep, the girl ventured out into the land beyond.

wary were her steps, for from beneath cry's eye, she was unprotected. and yet there was a certain freedom to being in the wild lands alone. kukutux had brought with her the rabbitskin; it lay across her shoulders, gathering a light blanketing of snow as the yearling moved toward a thicket rife with the scent of a bird she did not recognize.

they exploded upward in a cacophony of twittering, and kukutux jerked, startled. the pelt slid from her spine, and she exclaimed gently in irritation, pausing to shake it free of its burden and readjust it upon her withers again. when she lifted her head, however, the shadow of a large wolf marked the snow, and the duck held her breath, eyes wide upon the approaching figure.

as the grouse lifted into noisy flight, a flurry of feathers and flapping wings as they hurried to the safety of the branches above, they unveil a singular truth in the wake of their retreating flurry. that jagtooth isn't as alone in the territory, or rather the general vicinity ( it seems awful pompous to assume that he's alone in the territory ) as he'd first been led to assume. likely, the grouse had masked her scent from him, already distracted by his thoughts of the troubled children of his loins.

golden gaze takes her in from across the clearing, his footfalls having slowed to a stop all together as the ex-cardinal studies her. her pelage stands out in the dark of the forest, a creamed ivory against the otherwise darkened colors of the earth. she appears young — about the age of blackheart and mötley ...if not younger. though his eyesight still remains rather keen he isn't very talented at assuming age beyond when it's easy.

the cardinal contemplates offering a soft chuff but she has, no doubt, already seen him and instead opts for a bow his head followed by a soft, hello.

he was a tall creature, imposing, but his voice did not suggest he would do harm to her. still, kukutux maintained a healthy wariness as she dipped her head low before him. stranger or no, he was a man, and she would pay him the proper deference, as she had been taught.

"this woman greets you," kukutux whispered softly, slipping once more into the formality one would give a newcomer or perhaps a trader. she wanted to study him more, for in his face she had seen the glint of knowing gold, but it would not be seemly. and so for now she was silent, waiting for him to return her greeting. or perhaps laugh at her — the wolves here still did not understand her ways.