Dragoncrest Cliffs Sons of mine
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All Welcome 
Going to lightly PP Loko if that’s ok!

As summer came to a close, so did the childhood of Sapphique’s brood. Nearly five months old, the quadruplets looked more like miniature adults than puppies any longer. The boys, especially, had shot up like weeds. With the rising risks to the South, Njord thought it wise to sew the seeds of practical life skills – he knew, firsthand, how important it was to defend yourself. Something he learned too late in life.

@Loko, @Sobo,”
he whispered to the redtailed boys. “Rise an’ shine… yer comin’ on patrol with yer Da this mornin’.” Dawn had barely broke and there was silver frost on the ground. "Better ta get movin' quickly, less yer toes fall off," he added with a cheshire grin.
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It was far too early for the young oungan. Sobo made this known with a grumble, throwing his arms over his head to try to block out Njord's voice. Too late; Loko was up and raring to go within seconds and forcing his brother to rise by chewing on his ears. Git! he chastised his sibling with a wide swing of one leg, earning a shit-eating grin from Loko as he dodged backward.

Once they were out in the chilly air, Loko wasted no time forging ahead, keeping within Njord's sight but with a self-important swagger that suggested he knew exactly where he was going and what he was doing. Sobo stuck closer to his father, resisting the urge to grumble at the cold nip of frost on his toes. He kept the complaints to himself, but his tail dragged low behind him and his ears were turned back.

Da, he said after realizing that some of his foul mood was not related to the early rise. Can I talk ta ya 'bout some'ting? He cast his voice low so Loko wouldn't hear and come zipping back. The last thing he needed was his brother ribbing him about this.

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Njord managed to rouse his sons, but not without protests. Eventually the trio broke tail into the cold, crisp morning. A sparkle of frost clung to the grass and their breath puffed in wispy cloud of vapor. Instinctively they moved quickly to warm themselves. Loko frolicked ahead as they reached the path which followed their borders.

A list of topics to cover in today’s lesson ran through Njord’s mind: marking, patrolling, defending Sapphique… but he didn’t tune in to Sobo’s low mood until his son spoke up.

The man turned to his red-tailed doppelganger. “O course, Sobo,” he replied as his blue gaze searched for hints as to why the yearling carried himself so. “Ya can talk ta me ‘bout anythin,” he assured.
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Having been raised entirely by women with only one man's involvement, Sobo didn't know what it felt like to be ashamed of vulnerability. Like any young man, he was bound to some form of ego, but his was not particularly inflated. Loko had more of that brash energy than Sobo ever would. So when Njord said he would listen, the boy had no reason to hesitate.

Why does no one like me? he asked, peering at his father with some hope that Njord would have all the answers. He still did not understand that his greeting at the borders the other day was brusque. He hadn't meant to be. It was simply the nervous rush of words that had come out when he forced himself to socialize despite only wanting to hide, a misguided attempt to overcome his shyness that only reinforced his fears.

Dey were sposed to be family but dey dinna even speak to me. An' Mireille's friends dinna even look at me when dey came. Haunt was perhaps the only one who seemed a little interested, but at the time he was too young to feel a pull to be included. There was that red wolf, too, who definitely had not been interested. It was clear to Sobo that the only wolves who liked him were his immediate family, but he had no idea why.

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Why does no one like me? Sobo asked. Njord felt a flurry of sudden emotions ranging from: Who doesn’t like you?! I’ll beat the shit out of them! to My son! Let daddy make it all better!

His blue eyes searched Sobo’s dark face for answers and listened as the boy extrapolated on these feelings. Njord could relate… so much that it was like the red-tail was looking at his younger self. The father’s visage softened, and wished he could tell Sobo that everyone loved him…

“I understand… that canna be a good feelin’”
he said empathetically in a soft tone. “Sometimes, other wolves dinna like us because they dinna ken us. An’ that can take time,” he explained. “But other times… wolves dinna like us for no reason t’all.” Even family, he wanted too add as he thought spitefully of his grandsire. “If a man likes ‘imself, then ‘is worth isn’t at tha mercy of other’s thoughts,” Njord explained.

“Tell me more ‘bout Mireille an’ er friends?” he asked, wanting to know more about Sobo’s woes. In some ways, the man felt this was a parental failing and brainstormed ways he could help his son build confidence in the future.
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Njord was as wise as any scholar. It did not make the bitter pill any easier to swallow. Perhaps Reyes and his children did not understand Sobo and that was why they seemed to not care that he was there, but knew that was not the case with Mireille's friends. If it was, they would have a similar problem understanding her, for the siblings were close and lived much the same way.

How does one like himself? he wondered. What Njord meant was not basing his self-worth on the opinions of others, but although he now held a proper rank and was therefore a young man, Sobo was still just a kid. He felt his feelings in a big way and did not have the scars on his heart to school him into keeping them close. It was easy to pretend he did not want for friends and much harder to convince himself of it when loneliness clouded his soul.

Dey dinna like me 'cause I be a boy, he said with certainty. Well. One of dem seemed nice but de one in charge, she stopped smilin' when she saw me. An' de ot'er one hid in her sister's shoulder like she be afraid. They had been a little more gracious about his gifts, but he could not shake the way Druid's smile melted from her face. It painted every thought of their interaction. I dinna do not'ing ta dem but try ta make dem feel welcome. It is because I am not a sister. Why do it be so bad ta be a boy? He knew males had a lesser part to play in Sapphique, but he had never been made to feel ashamed of his gender or think so hard about it before now.

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Sorry for my delay! For whatever reason this response gave me hella writers block.

Sobo asked a big question. How? Njord was still figuring that out himself. How many times had he been made to feel small by others? How many times had a spotlight been cast on his shortcomings? It was easy to be self deprecating. Difficult to be comfortable in one’s own skin. What was the best way to explain this to a growing, young man?

“Hmmm,” Njord murmured as his thoughts steeped. Sobo went onto explain the snafu with Mireille and her new friends. Though men weren’t the focal point of Sapphique, no man had been outwardly disliked on the basis of their gender alone. Perhaps something had happened to the young women to make them distrustful of men. Or, perhaps they had been raised with biased, sexist views. His heart broke a little for Sobo, so young and already racked by the feeling of being unwelcomed.

“There’s nothin’ bad bout bein’ a boy,” Njord explained to his doppelganger. “Yer a braw healer with a good mind… S’too bad. Mireille’s friends are missin’ out on knowin’ ya.” He paused and tried to think of a better way to explain. “Sometimes, someone’s reaction to ya is a reflection on themselves… nothin’ you did or coudna done. Maybe somethin’ ‘appened to tha lass. We canna ken.”

Njord bumped his son’s shoulder. “An’ I like ya jus’ tha way ya are. You remind me of me’self when I was your age,” he chuckeled. “Wouldna change a thing!” Still, what could he do to help Sobo’s conundrum? How could he help Sobo make friends? “How about… when tha weather’s good we take a scoutin’ trip? Meet some new folks along tha way. What do ya say?” the red-tail suggested.
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Den why will I never get ta be Sapphique de way dat Mireille and Coraline get ta be Sapphique? he wondered, countering Njord's comfort that there was nothing wrong with being a boy. No one had ever explained the inherit sexism of Sapphique to him. He was born into it and it was all he knew. That did not make him unaware of its existence. He was not mistreated, but nor was he celebrated. Nothing made that more apparent than Chacal, gone for most of his lifetime, returning to be elevated over Hyacinth, a man who had been here all during her absence. Njord still stood over her, but for how long?

Dey are not missing out on anyt'ing, he said in a somewhat surly tone. Dey get ta go hunt de caribou an' Mireille goes wit' dem, like dey did not treat me bad. Dey get what dey want anyway. An' I get left behind because dey would not welcome me dere. An' still she goes wit' dem. Somewhere in there, Njord might be able to detect the want in him to be included and the pain of being on the outside. It wasn't Mireille's friends specifically. Witch and Heda were not bad wolves. It was how he felt like a burden in their presence, and how despite his sister's attempts at supporting him, he felt her slipping away from him.

He did manage a thin smile when Njord said he wouldn't change a thing. T'anks, da Njord. Dat might be nice, he said, rocking to bump his father gently with his shoulder. Up ahead, Loko disappeared into a burrow in the ground, only to emerge moments later covered in dirt. I t'ink Loko be more like ya. All adventurin' an' brave.

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#9
Sobo’s frank observation about Sapphique’s hierarchy sent a chill through Njord’s veins. Even a lad so young could perceive the inner workings of their social order. Njord had never much minded that Sapphique was, at its heart, a female-first pack. Their numbers were often small, and the red tail had no desire to try and assert any dominance over his cohorts for a higher ranking – it simply wasn’t his nature. But Sobo had the direct comparison of two sisters. Perhaps Njord should seek Erzulie’s and Rosalyn’s ear on the matter.

The pessimism continued as a little raincloud followed his son. Perhaps Sobo wasn’t looking for answers or explanation. Though Njord wanted to erase these negative thoughts immediately, he did his best to actively listen. Mental notes were made along the way.

A small smile encouraged Njord’s efforts. Och, yer Da wasna always this way.” He remembered feeling just as Sobo had in Meares Island. However, hopefully Sobo wouldn’t leave his home as his father had. “M’brother Aegir was tha strong an’ adventurous one. My sister Angraboda was the wise an’ cunning one… an’ me, well… I was jus’ Njord.” He watched Loko shake the dirt from his pelt. “Dinna fash, lad. If things aren’t goin’ yer way, then give it time. Time helps all things.”
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Sobo watched Loko shake and dart ahead again, no doubt searching for some big bad enemy to show who was boss. He turned his head back to da Njord and listened, growing more and more wide-eyed the more his father spoke of his childhood.

Njord was right. Time could change a lot of things. Maybe time would erase Sobo’s shyness. Maybe time would bring change to Sapphique, or change the hearts of the Rivenwood girls, not that he wanted much to do with their friendship now. Their apologies would feel sweet either way. okay, da Njord. I will give it time.

Where be your brot’er an’ sister now? Sobo had to know if they had come as far as his Njord had or if, like Njord said, time had changed things and now they were the ones looking up to him from some distant island.

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“There’s my lad,” Njord praised, happy to see a piece of advice satiate the gnawing unrest in his son. He nudged Sobo’s shoulder with his muzzle and volleyed an encouraging grin.

Their conversation steered towards Njord’s family and heritage. It was a subject the seafarer did not know how to navigate. Though Sobo was of his blood, he was not raised to be his child. Would Erzulie or Rosalyn resent him for speaking of their shared ancestry?

Njord took a deep breath. “Aegir dispersed into tha Mainland of Teekon ta seek ‘is own claim. He hadn’t returned home last I was there… but my sister remains on Meares Island trainin’ in my grandsire’s shadow as advisor,” he smiled with pride. Though he was pleased his sister had ascended to such an honorable rank, Njord still vehemently despised his grandfather.

His blue gaze darted back to Sobo. “You’ll ken em when ya see the red in their pelt… jus’ like yer tail.” Njord curled his over his back like a flag. “Mark of the Sveijarn, that is. An tha grey… that comes from tha Corten side of yer blood. Stoney as tha sea rocks of Meares Island.”

Njord cocked an ear and wondered if the lad had any interest in this topic.
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Njord’s nudge sent Sobo off-balance and earned a grin in return, one that lifted his face in just the same ways Njord’s did. Sobo was very much his father’s son, if only he had the same adventurous spirit and not his damning shyness.

Angraboda remained at Meares Island, but Aegir had left the sea behind. This was unfathomable to Sobo, who asked, why would he leave da sea? Maybe there were no other islands to claim. Maybe there was no more coast, but Sobo knew from traveling south along it that the Teekon coast stretched far. There must have been something more compelling inland… but what?

Sobo followed Njord’s tail with his eyes and subconsciously lifted his own matching one. His father called it, De mark of de Sveijarn? Sure, he knew his father’s surname and he did not share it, but that all Sveijarns shared the red in their fur was news to him. So dat be why Mireille an’ Coraline an’ Loko be all red, den? How come dey not be grey too?

Until now, he had never thought much of how he was the only member of his family to bear the greyscale Corten fur. Even Chacal, where she was not black, was resplendent in warm golden tones.

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Sobo’s question revealed just how small his world was. The idea of abandoning the coast appeared unfathomable to the lad who only knew salt air and rolling waves. “Young men often leave their kin ta chart their own course, lad. Aegir is a braw man. Strong an’ sharp. I suppose he didna fear leavin’ tha sea to find a claim to call his own. But, I dinna ken where he ended up… he hadna sent word back to tha family. For all I know he could have ended up on another piece of beach. Tha coast stretches forever, an’ plenty of islands dot tha horizon.”

He had spotted Aegir only once in the past year. Now, his brother was like a ghost. “When I first landed on Teekon, I thought I’d live in Duskfire Glacier, but the ocean… she has a funny way of callin’ you back.”

Sobo connected the dots by way of the red locks of his siblings. Yet, Njord didn’t have the heart to say Mireille and Coraline weren’t genetically his own. The freckles on their ruddy faces were evidence enough that Merlin had been their true father. Would this white lie cause grief later in life? In Njord’s eyes all were equal sons and daughters to the seafarer. “Aye, that’s right,” he agreed.

Njord chuckled as Sobo loosed yet another question. What a mind this one had! “Maybe it has somethin’ ta do with yer destiny,” Njord suggested.

The trio would continue on their patrol. Njord would share stories with his son and point out the finer details of patrolling the territory and diplomacy. It was important to the seafarer that Sapphique's youths were prepared for the world and life ahead... and he knew he would do everything in his power to help them on their way.
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