Golden Glade Take Yourself Home

SETTING: Golden Glade
Weather: Overcast
cool
Midday
TERRITORY: Golden Glade

TAGS: N/A

The small boy wanders through the paths of the glade with glee, his large paws slapping their way through the shallow puddles left over from the god's wallowing. What once was a swamped land was now lush with the colors of fall, the fire of the forest now reigning free from the confines of his maker's tears. But of course—Primrose was unknown to this. He was just a boy skipping his merry way with tail held high and nose scouring out the leaking sap of the trees.

His fur, bright pale orange and curly was now adorned with bits and pieces of petals and leaves from his last romp around, and among them a little sticky from the nectar he was hungerly licking. If anyone were to come across him he would be oblivious, in his own world as he happily ate and sung a little tune.

Kingslend had finally located the forest the High Elk resided in, so there was no need to keep traveling. More wolves had pledged themselves to the Kings, both new and old. Cenric felt more content now than ever, and so he decided to treat himself with a leisurely walk.

He was expecting a quiet stroll through the forest, but the silence was disrupted by the pitter patter of paws. Curious to see who it was, he followed the sound and stumbled upon a young boy.

You seem to be having fun, he called when he believed he was in the pup’s eyesight.

A voice—smooth and soft catches his attention, and turning around on dainty paws Primrose comes face to face with the likes of a man he has never seen. The wolf is tall, noble, regal almost the point where the boy could see him as a king! Instantly, the firebird is intrigued and blinks at him owlishly.

"Yes 'sir," Prim responds as he is regarding a question from his father.

Pouncing up to the man, the pale boy is quick to sniff at the dark brown fur, interested in it's color. Could he be part of the wolves that have recently settled here? The ones his mama was so mad at? Prim blinks and thinks as hard as he can, the tinkering of cloggs in his brain so loud it makes his head hurt. "Who are you?"

The children back at home were much more calm compared to this pup. Curious or not, excited or not, they’d never approach a stranger the way he did. It was borderline rude. Their mothers would nip at their ears for such things. Cenric was a bit taken aback by the pup’s boldness. He was tempted to pull away, but he’d give the child the benefit of doubt. It’s not his fault for his  ill manners. It’s a mother’s job to teach her pup.

I am Cenric Déorwine, and you are?

Unaware of the man's feelings towards him, Prim continues of his way, his dusty brown nose pushing its way through the thick  chest fur. The man smells a little odd, not like the wolves at his pack—no, it was darker, almost damp and woodsy, and made Prim feel a little weird.

Pulling back, the exuberant child stares up at the deer praiser. "You smell odd, Cenric.. do-air-whine. But that's okay! Sometimes my siblings smell a little weird. But not like you, no no. You kinda smell like the woods. Do you live in the woods? Are you with the deer wolves?" He continues to babble on, talking of the brown wolves his mother warned him about and slipping the word of inbred without noticing it.

"Oh and im Primrose, but my friends call me Prim so you can too."

Not only did the pup burrow his face into his fur (he had to step back and discretely dust himself off after that), he said Cenric “smelled odd”. This child had a difficult time keeping his thoughts to himself.

He was surprised to learn the boy knew of his family, and even more surprised when he called them inbred. Who told him such obscene lies? By the way he behaved, Cenric wouldn’t be surprised if his parents had planted that rumor in his head.

Well Primrose, I do in the woods. I am the King of those deer wolves. Our group is called Kingslend, and I can assure you we’re not inbred. A brow raised. I’m surprised a boy your age even knows that word. Did your siblings teach you that?

Once again, the boy was unaware of the man's intentions, he had missed the action of dusting himself off, and only regarded it as Cenric must have seen a fly on his coat. Tilting his head, Primrose continued to watch him with undivided attention and a wide smile.

"You are a king!" Prim gasped in awe. He was right! The boy glowed as Cenric talked with him and showed him attention, he even fed him praise! Or what the boy interpreted as appraisal for his age and about his choice of words. "Nope! My mother taught me that word, she used it when we met your wolves before." He didn't think his siblings knew of the word either, and more so he was confused about why his mother was so mad at them. Cenric seemed great! He was a king from the stories!

The boy scuffed his paw into the dirt as he talked, swirling it around as he was aflutter in front of royalty. "Why are you not inbred?" he questioned. "And what is it like being a king? Did you save a princess? OH- OH! Did you have a true loves kiss yet? It must be great, please, PLEASE tell me what it's like?"

His suspicion was correct, unfortunately. He picked up the word from his mother. If she kept using language like that around her son, he’d grow up into a heathen. It’s a shame really.

And she had directed the insult towards his family? Very interesting. What had happened between her and the Déorwines? He’d have to ask Célnes about it, or perhaps the mother herself. Either way, he had to know.

The boy’s outrageous comments did not cease. Why are you not inbred? It’s one of the strangest questions he’s ever heard. Inbreeding is a sin. Uncle Grayson’s face flashed in his mind. And dear mother.. Cenric shook his head. Best not dwell upon ghosts. One should never sleep with their own blood.

Primrose made his rise to power sound like a fairytail. It was amusing As king, I am responsible for the well-being of my subjects. I make sure everyone is protected, fed, and content. Things like love are saved for the spring. He could hardly call it love. It all tied back to business, really.

'Inbreeding is a sin,'

Primrose's ears perk at such a statement, his eyes had grown even wider as they were accompanied with an agape mouth. Oh... So that's what the word meant—not at all of what he thought. Suddenly, he felt very small and his face was really REALLY hot. "Oh... I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking down at his paws as he played in the dirt. "I didn't know it meant a bad thing."

He didn't understand why his sweet and intelligent mother would say such a thing.

The boy felt sad—thou, it didn't last long with how Cenric entertained him with the fairy tales. "Woah!" Prim remarked. "That sounds so noble, you really are a king! Do you have any princesses or princes? Can I uh... meet them? And why only Spring? Love should be year round!" The boy was up once more, prancing around the king and giggling at the thought of meeting a REAL prince or princess. Or maybe both!

"You should come meet my pack! Maybe my mom wouldn't be so upset if she knew you werent inbred, and AND...AND how nice and kingly you are. Everyone likes kings!"

The boy realized his little error, thank the High Elk. It’s good to know he had some shame. Perhaps he wasn’t a lost cause. It’s quite alright. Now, don’t call strangers inbreds in the future. You may have the misfortune of running into a more ill-tempered individual.

The thought of having his spawn run around the forest was also amusing, but unlike saving princesses, it was no fairy tale. It could very well be reality. Not yet, but when winter ends, I’ll be having children of my own. As for meeting them, well, he doubted Primrose would be allowed on their grounds, but he’d humor him. Maybe your paths will align in the future.

Love is year round, yes, but- he paused to clear his throat. -if you wish to have children with your wife, that would have to wait until spring.  Procreation was not a topic he wished to dive into with this boy. It wasn’t his place. I’m sure your mother will tell you all about it when you’re older. 

Speak of the devil. Primrose offered to lead him to his realm (an offer he’d be scolded for if he were a Kingslend boy). Who was he to say no? Cenric would have to meet this woman and her pack sooner or later. I’d be delighted to meet them.