Firefly Glen barefoot in the kitchen, sacred new beginnings

Paging @Meadow!

 

It was around noon, and Osiris had decided to take his lunch on-duty. He had briefly diverted from his path to catch some lunch—a rabbit, to be precise. The hunt had been brief, and Osiris had managed to catch the prey with very little trouble. With his prize in mouth, he retraced his steps and resumed his post where he had left off. 

Once he had situated himself along the north-eastern corridor, Osiris tore into his meal without hesitation; it had been several hours since he had last eaten, and he was hungry. Between bites, the glen's leader would glance up from his food and survey his surroundings to make sure that everything was as he intended: calm and orderly under his watchful eye.

Keeping vague. After meeting with Solpallur and Stjornuati.

For once, her stomach was not snarling demands into the wilderness. Freshly fed and rested, Meadow had slipped from the two wolves who not only tolerated her presence… but seemed to welcome it? Baffled, the diminuitive waif dare not question it for now, and instead offered them space, almost expecting them to have moved on without her in her absence.

The Glen was not far from where they were—one wolf, a nomadic warrior, the other, a roguish healer. Both rakish in appearance, and yet the only description she could offer of them both would be that they seemed to steal the wild in every motion and manner.

These thoughts consumed her—why did she dwell on them so much?—and so only when she skirted forward did she come to her senses, her heart instantly shuttering nervously in her chest as her eyes grazed over the unknown male. “I—sorry!” The outburst seemed ill-timed, and she certainly hadn’t wanted to intrude on another during their quiet meal.

Osiris was not alone for long. Soon after he had begun to eat, Meadow approached and came to her senses and apologized. "As long as you haven't come to take my meal, you're fine," he reassured her with a slight edge to his tone; a warning. "You are pretty close to my borders, though," he explained, hoisting himself onto all fours and pushing his kill aside, "This is Firefly Glen, and I'm Osiris." 

"Who're you?" the lack of pack-scent on her made him assume she was a loner, but that was primarily all he could gather from her smell alone.

Pumpkin eyes swept over the wolf that lifted himself now, pushing up to a full height that towered over her own. Most did—her features petite and slim, but somehow it was more intimidating in this moment, and she found her muzzle lowering in more than apology now.

She grimaced slightly at his words—she was practically on his borders. She’d barely been away from Sol and Stjor’s company and already she had managed to stick her nose in trouble somewhere. Hopefully she wasn’t about to piss off someone they knew and held in high regard.

“I’m so sorry—I didn’t realize,” she breathed out, her eyes skimming over him to rest upon the ground. “I’m…” ‘Engi,’ her mind whispered—not to be mistaken with her oh so fragile heart. “Meadow,” she finished.

She appeared to be remorseful, and that helped put Osiris at ease. "Meadow," he recited, thoughtfully; it was a nice name. "You should be careful around here," he warned, acknowledging that her approach had been mindless. 

"There have been reports of several dangerous wolves in the area—some of which that had captured and imprisoned individuals." It was worth reporting, as she seemed to be alone.

She exhaled slowly, his tone remaining neutral, if not his posture relaxing. Her own did the same, though she remained lower—delicate form curled closer to the ground as one ear flickered to his words of warning, her bronze-kissed brows arching in surprise to his words.

“Dangerous wolves?”

She swallowed, trying to recover from the look of what might resemble a deer in headlights as she straightened somewhat, looking to the wolf before her, her stomach hollowing. Surely not… He couldn’t be referring to Sol and Stjor? She hadn’t seen any captured individuals… They were… intense. But dangerous?

Sol’s wraith-like form came to mind—the severity of his green eyes and the lure of his growling voice.

“What do they look like?” Her words were hushed, and she swallowed down her growing nausea.

It never once occurred to her that her inability to place trust upon another was her own inability to see that perhaps… her companionship was desired, rather than something to be toyed with.

Shameful, He grunted, sidling up behind Engi. He had followed her scent out here, wondering what she was getting up to so far from the little area they had pitched camp in. Solpallur would never forgive him if the pretty little Engi was injured on Stjornuati's watch. They sound as cowards, He continued as he drew up to the other two, nudging the female briefly with his nose by way of greeting.

Who was taken? He asked, looking to the male, automatically adjusting his posture to show respect. These lands smelled taken, though the scent was not as strong as some packs' borders.

Osiris stiffened as another approached them, despite his agreement with the newcomer; they had been cowardly in taking advantage "I'm not sure," he admitted. "Our neighbors, Neverwinter Forest, relayed this information to me," he motioned towards the woodlands in the distance, " and they did not provide me much information—just that the pack took a woman traveling alone." 

"There are two packs causing trouble in this wilderness—The Saints and Ursus. I'm not sure where you all are heading, but I'd avoid the mountains to the east." The more information they had, the better; pack-wolf or not, everybody needed to be aware of the lurking danger.

‘Shameful,’ came the deep purring voice as he slid close to her. Meadow knew which of the brothers had followed her, not just by scent alone, but by the common tongue he used more fluently than his companion. Her heart rattled against her ribcage nonsensically for a moment—and yet Stjor was here, discussing these dangerous wolves.

She felt his touch against her skin and fur, instilling with her more confidence now, reassuring her and also igniting a wave of guilt that she could have considered the brothers had been the culprits… if even for a stolen moment. She knew nothing of them—yet.

She breathed out, her eyes moving from the pale rake to study the agouti male before them, waiting for his answer. At the mention of two packs, she felt her relief solidify her resolve—her beasts safe from the list of those damned.

“Thank you,” she murmured, finding her voice once more, as soft as it were. Her muzzle tipped upward, nosing at Stjor lightly in returned greeting, her own tail giving an idle flick along her haunch. “This is Stjor.” She paused, noting the absence of Sol and wondering if he was shortly behind them before her gaze caught Osiris. Handsome—his eyes like a pine forest. “Your borders smell fresh. Are you newly claiming?”

Is this before/after Mira was taken?

His lips curled at this information provided; the idea that a woman had been absoncded from her travels was vile and infuriating. The arrow of his opinion aimed true, only cowards preyed on those weaker than themselves. Wolves such as they derseved only the teeth that cut into their throat, and the fordæmdur that would drag them down to Helheim. He noted the information given to them, tucking it away in the recesses of his mind to pass on to Solpallur.

His expression settled out as Engi introduced him, quietly bobbing his head as acknowledgement. He did appreciate that she did not give away his full name, but at the same time, he knew it was because she could not pronounce it. They'd have to work on that. For now, he remained silent, awaiting an answer to the question that the female had posed.

After!

 
Osiris regarded Stjor with a short nod; he felt more assured, now that he had a name to address the stranger with. When asked about the borders, namely regarding their newness, he did not hesitate to establish their claim. "Yes," he answered. "This is Firefly Glen, and I am Osiris," the introduction was mainly for Stjor, who had arrived after he had introduced himself. "I am claiming this territory for Moonspear, and my parents, King Dirge and Queen Hydra—who hold claim over this wilderness." He motioned over his shoulder as he referred to the mountain. 

"Are you two from around here?" he asked, now curious about the wolves that kept his company.

It was a loaded question, the stranger asked—though he never would have known it. She pondered the ideals she had always longed for—hearth, home, family. Morningside had burned, and her gaze drifted to the cold mountains, knowing the memories that lay on its other side. “No,” she finally whispered, clearing her throat after, trying to rid any hint of emotion that threatened to reveal itself. It was simply a story she wanted only to hold close to her heart for now.

“I only know of the Neverwinter Forest pack,” she offered, her fiery gaze shifting back to him, a delicate brow arching. “I’m from across the mountains. And Stjor…” She swung her muzzle to study him a moment, a flitting smile forming to her lips before dropping. “I’m not quite sure.” She had asked Sol before, yet he had not understood her to respond. And she had deemed it unimportant. For they were here now.

Osiris, Firefly Glen, Moonspear Dirge, Hydra.

All of it was stored away, quietly adding the names to the short roster in his head. A flicker of his gaze was cast up to the mountain that the other male indicated, considering the natural structure for a moment before cluing back into the conversation at hand. Meadow's answer was decidedly guarded, something that made the Northerner curious, but not enough to poke and prod at her for a reason.

This one hails from norður. Far norður, upon mountains such as that one, where snow is year-long. Where winters were cruel and the cold-dark long. He wondered if all winters were as such here, or if they would be as tame as their temperate seemed to be.

Mind if we wrap this up soon?

 
They were foreigners, it seemed. Meadow mentioned that she was from across the mountains, and Osiris couldn't bother to ask which ones. Stjornuati, on the other hand, revealed his homelands; the name of the pack was ... interesting, to say the least—it sounded strange to him, and he didn't dare repeat it. 

"Thankfully, we have seasons here," he replied to the man good-humoredly. "So you will not have to deal with the snow year-round."

They conversed a while longer until Meadow and Stjornuati decided that it was time to get going. Osiris watched them as the vanished, and once they were gone, he resumed his patrol.