Dragoncrest Cliffs bonders' enclave

backdated to a day or few after @Val's promotion

A strong seabreeze swept along the morning coast and through the trees, pressuring their leaves and needles to fall. There was a familiar shrieking of gulls overhead as they wheeled towards the sea cliffs, and a lonesome gold shape exited the woods surrounding Glintwater Lake with a large fish dangling from its jaws. The towheaded Svalinn hunted for his nephew.

The already taciturn wolf had become almost mute in the days that passed by long after he’d expected his daughters to return. He’d convinced himself that he would not worry over them, that what would be would simply be, but he had not anticipated such a renewed feeling of loss and helplessness as spring turned to summer and summer to fall. He spent all his days patrolling back and forth from Sapphique to the sound and he only spoke if forced to.

Svalinn trailed the pack’s resident father and plopped the heavy gift before him with a grunt upon finding him. Congrats. It was the first word he had said in weeks, if not months.

an honor val had never anticipated had been thrust upon him. he wondered if he would be a good fit for the role. if aventurine would be a legacy of kindness and justness; or if like everything else he touched, it'd simply fade away.

the crisp morning came with rousing cries of gulls and the figure of svalinn, a large bounty in his jaws. val eyed the offering, and then his uncle. for me? of course it was -- but he was not so greedy as to take it whole.

he split the favorable meal and gave svalinn back his piece. he'd noticed svalinn's features as of late seemed drawn - and a taciturn aura pervasively settled across his gilded shoulders that concerned val. thank you. how have you been?

Val shared his gift, which Svalinn was not keen to refuse, and the two of them settled down to dine together. He grunted at the acknowledgement though seemed unwilling to speak at any length on the state of his well-being. Fine, he muttered an answer between cleaves of fishskin. He was quick to change the subject, quick to put his mental woes aside for the moment. How’re the kids?

while he dug into his meal, val's full attention was on his uncle.

he noticed the quick way his question was deflected -- a pool of something vulnerable glinted in those amber-gold eyes.

they're fine. val replied cheekily, chewing on a particularly tough dorsal fin.

listen. he set aside the remainder of his meal, squaring svalinn with his full attention. you've been a little off. what's going on?

Svalinn’s paws crossed moodily, indicating his desire to remain closed off. I just came to congratulate you and share a peaceful meal, he muttered. But Val was not so easily deterred. After a long bout of uncomfortable silence, the bruiser relented with a huff, dropping all pretense. It’s the girls. They were due back ages ago... and I- Another sigh, and then a shake of his head. You understand.

It didn’t matter how many times he told himself not to worry about the things he couldn’t change, he still felt an uneasy pang of helplessness at the thought of his daughters. It just seems to get harder every day, not easier. Wasn’t time supposed to heal all wounds? What was this brand of sorcery, then?

peaceful meals were not a given; not in this life. val shared a sympathetic smile to his aureate uncle.

it would be nice if life got easier the older you got. but val felt it was the inverse: every hurdle had another hill, another hurdle, another obstacle, another barrier. and you did not get younger each time you vaulted over them.

he supposed that eventually, life just wore you out.

i understand. he confirmed with a sigh, thinking of all the missing daughters sapphique had raised. he hoped each of them were pursuing life as they envisioned it. your daughters are strong. but if they are like us, they wander. perhaps they need a little life experience before they come back to their father that they've worn to exhaustion.

At first, Svalinn only responded with a grunt of skepticism. He daren't get his hopes up. This life so far had not been one that attracted much good luck, and whatever left of his life that didn't require odds had been squandered or cowardly spent.

He shifted uncomfortably and leaned to strip off a scaly piece of their shared meal. I pray you're right, Svalinn relented with a huff. Though years older, he'd never considered himself particularly wise, making it easier for him to accept Val's counsel — something his pebblestone nephew might've found hilarious if he was privy to the gilt dunce's thoughts.

Where did you go- what did you do, when you left home for a time?

gilt dunce LMFAO

val sensed skepticism in his uncle. it was easy for him to wax poetic about missing daughters that weren’t his — so he understood.

as svalinn ripped another piece from their shared meal, val contemplated the wayfaring daughters. he knew their family to be roamers — it was as biological as their calling to the sea.

he set aside a strap of fish. that is a very long answer. did you know, that i once was put in the cave of the bears and stared a bear in the face? he let loose a long exhale. i went southeast. there is a whole world out there very different than sapphique. i met marauders and i met witches — and also a bear cult worshipper or two. but, i came back — mostly in one piece too. what about you? surely you have some great stories from your wandering, younger days. it is a rite of passage for us, hmm?

Prob’ly a good story to scare the kids with, Svalinn snorted, crossing his fishy paws and giving them a good lick. The bear story had never come up, but that wasn’t surprising given how traumatizing the subject of bears was around here.

Val went on to summarize his ventures – the bit about bear cult worshipers drawing up the quirk of a golden brow. Pitiful. I don’t know what self-respecting wolf would worship a fuckin’ bear, but I’m glad I’ve never met one. Never met a witch, either, if you don’t count my ex-wife. He might’ve laughed if he wasn’t too busy shuddering at the mere thought of Drusilla.

I ran with some Vikings, for a while. That’s where I got most of these, he gestured towards his scarred forelegs. Rowdy crew, I miss ‘em sometimes. And I once tangled with the mistress of a pleasure pack, which I hope you’ve never heard of and I don’t recommend. I also met a group of dandelion-brains that ate mushrooms every full moon. Bunch’a weirdos, he drawled.

wrap up for a more recent one? <3

val shared a small smile at the joke --but he realized there was so much of svalinn's life he did not know. vikings, scars, and pleasure packs -- so many different chapters before he found himself in sapphique's embrace.

val licked the last of gristle from his whiskers. dandelion brains that ate mushrooms? the last stuck out to him -- why was it that so much of the world was just strange? well. maybe it's for the best our adventuring days are behind us.