Stone Circle First Autumn

A long overdue thread for you! @Astrid 

There had been a change to the boy's world.

Summer blooms had begun to shrivel. Yielding to the new chill that stole away into the evenings. He could have sworn that the nights were longer now too. Having left the rendezvous, he had come out the fields of the Heim. Morning dew clung to the grass as he waded through.

The boy had changed too. Growing quickly, he remained sturdy in frame. Inheriting his Faðir's heft, he no longer tottered about their territory upon unsteady limbs. Turning now teal eyes over his shoulder, he looked back in the direction from whence he came. Was he alone?

love u squeaks <3

He was not alone, but perhaps he didn't know this.
His little troll of a sister had found the grace of his scent, tasted it upon her tongue; never forgotten, never cast aside, and so she'd instinctively sought it with a high flagged tail and an excited wriggle to her stout figure.
U-ju-rak U-ju-rak U-ju-rak, her paws thump to the rhythm of his name, until the gangly argent form in the moon-crested shape of brother comes into view! Bróðir! her voice comes in a croaking roar as she tumbles face-first into his shoulder. Hvar hefuru verið?!

<3

A yelp came to his maw has his dear sister tossed herself into him. His surprise turning in giggles as he righted himself. Giving her a playful shove of his shoulder. Little tail wagging as he brought his nose to her cheek. She joined him as she always did. As she was meant to, or so it felt to him.

Astrid! Ég fór í göngutúr!

He turned to face her proper. Have you seen? The flowers left. Do you think they went somewhere? His gaze turned to the territory around them. He had watched his home change with widened eyes and a sense of wonder. He lifted a paw, readied to continue the search. But this time, not alone.

It's because it's fall, dumb-butt, she teases, teeth poking from her lips in a curled smirk. One incisor appears to be missing already. s'called fall cuz' the leaves fall off the trees, n' the flowers shrivel and die. And then they come back! she shoves her elbow into the space between his ribs along his side.
Do you like flowers or somethin'? That's kinda girly. I would know. I'm a girl. as if he could ever forget. She lumbers forward and noses at a long blade of wildgrass, and it seems to fit perfectly in the gummy space between her teeth. She snorts before an ugly guffaw comes from her chest! Look at this! she lifts her head back up to her brother, eyes crinkled in a big, stupid smile. I'm gonna get you with my blade!

An "oof!" escaped him at his sister's jab. He staggered a bit before he laughed heartily. Regaining his balance, his face scrunched up in thought. But why do they fall down and die if they're just going to come back? I think that's dumb. He shook his head, confounded by the plants.

Of course I like flowers! They're pretty! Like Modir! He puffed up his chest and stamped his paws with a smile. Why, he did like flowers! Girly or not!

He watched Astrid and kept at her side as she began to investigate the grasses around them. He bounced backwards as she turned to him, blade of grass in metaphorical hand. A delighted trill to his voice. Sure, Astrid called him girly, but he adored her fairytales and games just as much as the girly things. About as much as he adored her.

Turning a blade upon an unarmed prince?! For shame! His forepaws stretched across the ground as his chest dropped. Hindquarters sticking up in the air. I must have a blade myself if you want to duel!

I dunno. I didn't make the seasons. Why do you care about the flowers? If there was any softie on this planet who liked flowers, it would absolutely be Ujurak. Astrid had begun to wonder if she was more of a man than he was, but maybe that was okay. She loved him no less, she decides, even as she pokes fun at him.
What're you, a medic? Because medics were totally lame! She was a warrior; or at least she would be, one day. That's a girl job, isn't it? it wasn't.
He calls for a blade of his own to duel, and she gestures downward to the many surrounding them; dry and brittle with the chill of the season, but still perfectly good, in her opinion. I challenge you!

I don't think it is. I think boys can be medics too! Ujurak's face scrunched up in thought. Was he wrong? Fadir and modir told them to be kind and medics were kind, weren't they?

The call of her challenge beckoned his attention. Goofy grin set upon his face as he dashed to pick up a blade of his own. Dry stalk rattling as he wielded it. He stamped his paws on the ground, giggle rising in his throat.

Come 'et me! He roared in response.