Stavanger Bay off we go to the great beyond

"Brrrrrrr!" exclaimed two-months-old Charon out loud while he stepped out of the den. He wasn't really cold because he had fur to protect himself with, but he knew it was cold outside and that 'brr' was the word associated with that cold. The cool wind blew through his fur and he liked the feeling. Huddles of autumn leaves were gathered all around trees in the forest bordering the clearing that held Ragnar and Thistle's den, and Charon loved to play in them. He was still sad that his parents and brother weren't here and, maybe even moreso, it was a burden on the boy that he needed to try and be cheerful to try and drag his siblings out of their depression over aforementioned too, but Charon tried to make the best of things.

He'd recently developed an interest in hunting everything that moved. Mostly autumn leaves dancing in the wind, though, because he actually managed to catch those and rip them to shreds, and he wasn't very good at catching other things yet.

Ragnar had recently lost half of his eyes and Charon needed to ask him about that sometime because he didn't really understand the full details, but he would, some day.

Today, however, Charon was feeling adventurous. Maybe he would go and hunt something in the forest, or maybe he'd go to the beach all alone even though he knew he was supposed to wait for adults to go places. Well, Charon couldn't sit around waiting for adults to come and escort him, and Ragnar and Thistle were busy wolves, so he decided he'd best not bother them with unimportant stuff like exploring and go on his own. He'd be fine on his own.

Charon cast one last look at the den, considering dragging Liyaní and Levi along, but he wasn't sure they'd be up for it and if he'd get in trouble he'd rather do so alone, anyway.

Feeling like quite the big boy, Charon started to tread deeper into the forest, sort-of hoping this was the way to the beach from what he remembered it to be when he'd visited it with an adult escort before.

The former king was becoming quite the fisherman. He constantly found himself by the sea, reaping the ocean's bounties for the pack, returning with two, three, four fish in his jaws at a time. Mordred hardly hunted on land, which he decided to change. The knight needed to round himself out if he wanted to be a true gamekeeper. So instead of heading to his beloved sea, the knight slipped into the forest instead, in the hopes of finding some of the scarce food that remained in the woods.

Instead, the storm-gray male found a little lost pup instead. One of Ragnar's adoptees, though he did not know this one's names. There was just so many, and he did not get a chance to ever interact with them. "You're quite far from home, little one."

Charon was wandering through the forest, making sure to be very careful and listen very carefully for any dangers around him. He didn't want to be snuck upon by a dangerous enemy, after all, or eaten by something. Onyx had said that we eat stuff that eat stuff that eat other stuff, so Charon figured there had to be something out there even bigger than wolves that ate wolves instead. He hadn't met it yet, though. Maybe that's what killed his parents.

The boy was lost in thought and startled when an adult spoke to him. He looked up to take in the wolf's appearance, large ears perked forward inquisitively. As the wolf said that he was far from home, Charon decidedly shook his head. "No 'm not," he lied, because he didn't want to get in trouble for wandering away from the den.

The boy lied, but Mordred knew that the den where the pups lived was not too far from here. He did not chastise the boy for it, for he had his own fair share of adventures away from home. "There is nothing wrong with exploring a little, now and then." The storm-gray knight smirked. "As long as you are safe, I do not think anyone would really mind."

The other wolf said that there was nothing wrong with adventuring, but Charon didn't want to admit that he wasn't allowed to go this far from the den yet. If he would, then he would admit that he had been lying, and he certainly didn't intend to do that, because it wasn't too late to get in trouble yet. The wolf said that nobody would mind, but Charon was pretty sure that Ragnar and Thistle would mind if they'd find out that he had gone this far all alone.

But, now he was no longer alone — if Ragnar and Thistle ever found out, Charon could always say he was with... Ehr... Charon looked thoughtfully at the other wolf and queried, "Who are you?" His question came half out of curiosity and half because he wanted to tell Ragnar and Thistle the name of this wolf if it was needed. "I'm 'n adventurer!" Charon's tail wagged briefly as he mentioned this fact, saying it as though it was some sort of official title that others actually called him, even though he'd just made it up on the spot.

"Mordred." He did not give his full name this time, seeing at he was only a child and not bound to remember anyway, and most people would not call him Sir Mordred or Sir Pendragon, at least not here.

The knight smiled again at the boy's bright tone. "How much have you explored young man?" While he did have other duties to attend to, he felt obliged to entertain this young man until he felt it ready to return him to his den. He had all the time in the world to finish his jobs later.

The other wolf was called Mordred. Charon looked at Mordred's face for a little bit, just to take in his features and memorise who he was, in case he'd run into him later. Charon wished that Liyaní and Levi were with him, because they'd been so sad lately and he wanted nothing more than to see them happy again. Charon tried to keep the family together like a good brother, but it was hard and it wasn't hard for anyone, even a child who just wanted to make things good again, to see that he was failing miserably.

When Mordred asked his question, Charon considered it for a moment. He hadn't really done much exploring yet, considering they weren't allowed very far from the den most of the time. He answered, "Loads 'n loads!" Then added, "I chased stars 'n the sky!" Considered for a moment before proudly boasting, "Gone'd a bear!" He didn't really know what a bear was, but he remembered Ragnar and Thistle talking about bears once and he thought that one had something to do with his mother's death, so if he ever did see one, he'd make sure it would be gone for sure! So, in a way, it wasn't really like he was lying, because he was gonna do all of these things at some point or another anyway.

He chuckled at the boy's, hopefully exaggerated tales of chasing bears and the stars. Oh the innocence of youth. How one could make up an entire world in one's head, live in it, blissful. Then, it would sometimes be forgotten, or new tales would be added to its mythos. He had the same experiences as a child. A means for him to escape the loneliness that he had lived in.

He thought of a myth he had learned back in Orkney. Maybe he could impress him with this: "Have you ever heard of a dragon?" Mordred was not sure if dragons were part of the fairy tales in the southern regions, but he could always just guess.

Charon looked eagerly at Mordred to see if the other wolf would see through his lies, but it seemed that he had been successful. Mordred didn't tell him that it was bad to lie or anything, at least, so that seemed good. Charon listened as Mordred asked him if he knew about dragons. Charon shook his head with a look of awe spread across his face as he breathlessly admitted, "No!"

Excited at the prospect of learning more about these so-called dragons Charon sat down and queried patiently, "Tell me 'bout 'em!"

"Well," he obliged the pup, settling down in the grass. "They are huge lizards - you know what a lizard is right? - about the size of a bear or larger. Their scales are thick and hard as stone and can be in all shades of a rainbow." He remembered seeing the remains of one before, it was silver, and its scaled carcass was enough to break the tooth of a wolf if bitten.

"They have big wings, and some even have four! And they have a roar loud enough to be heard for miles, and it can make the earth shake. Some breath fire, water, or even poison." He remembered seeing dragons flying over a forest fire in the southern regions of Albion, dropping large amounts of water over it. They were blessings when it came to that, but sometimes curses.

Finishing this. Thanks for the thread :)

With bated breath, Charon listened to the stories that Mordred told about the dragons. He nodded briefly when he was asked if he knew what lizards were - he'd seen one once or twice - and tried to imagine what they'd look like if they were huge and had wings. Charon also wondered where they had gone, for one thing that he knew for sure was that wherever they'd gone, they were no longer here right now. He had never seen nor heard one, at least.

"Wow!" Charon said when Mordred finished his story. "Really?"

Charon thought for a little while as he processed the story before finally, hesitantly, asking his question: "Why they gone?" He had never met one, after all, so they were surely not here anymore. Charon would have loved to have met one if they were!

For the remainder of the day, Charon listened to Mordred telling stories about dragons. Without realising it they eventually doubled back to the den and he was dropped off at Ragnar and Thistle's home, with many stories in the back of his head.