Wendigo Klein

Wendigo lay stretched out on his belly in the center of a semi circle of, well, garbage. He was oblivious to the chill below that was steadily seeping up into his fur and had long since frozen his unprotected giblets. Neither the chill nor the rising sun broke his focus. No, he had eyes only for the project cupped loosely in his paws. He loved the sound dry old bones made when rattled together. They made a happy hollow clinking he found quite pleasing. A stumble as he left his bone littered den had elicited the sound and, seized with inspiration, Wendigo had gathered up all his little bones and hauled them off to his favorite crafting spot on the edge of the sand trap fields. Hours had passed since he’d started and he could, potentially, provided his attention lasted, last several more hours. What project held his attention so thoroughly? A necklace. And not just any necklace, no, but a big ugly one. Cobbled together with mismatched bones of varying sizes and belonging to various species, the wearable monstrosity was clearly the work of a child. There was no rhyme or reason as to which bone went where; the one little bird skull that could have been a centerpiece was wildly off center. Still, he loved the necklace already.

How much longer his focus would last was anyone’s guess. That he had lasted so long was a marvel. Most projects Wendigo undertook were abandoned in minutes. In fact, unless some kind (or irritated) soul picked them up it was safe to assume Habari was littered with them. For every one completed project there were at least a dozen forgotten in their infancy. If asked Wendigo would proclaim them all special. It didn’t matter how far along the projects were; whether it was a pile of sticks meant to be a bracelet or an actual bracelet, he loved them all the same.

For now this super special necklace had his entire focus. Normally the rising sun would cast him into the shadows but for now his near-vampiric aversion was forgotten. He had a thing to make.

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Table coded by Scarlet

Spark's journey further into the norther continent brought her upon a rather unusual landscape, she had never seen a land so barren before, even the deserts she had crossed had not been as desolate as they looked, life still thrived in the sands, simply hidden from view. But here? It was as though the rest of the world knew something she did not. And indeed the young woman would learn quickly enough that there was indeed a reason that things seemed so empty here.

Her paws had sunk into the ground under her, luckily Spark was a quick thinker and mover and hadn't put all her weight on her forepaw and was able to retract herself from the hidden sinkhole. And so her journey was a slow and methodical one, making sure she always had a safe route to retreat to if the path ahead proved too treacherous.

It was some time before she stumbled across the next oddity these lands held, which was something that would have been mundane to stumble across in most any land but this one but stuck out like a sore thumb amongst all the danger and desolation. A pup, only a season or two younger than herself making was looked like... skulls upon a string?  

Spark approached cautiously, certainly, no mother would have left their child alone in such a dangerous place? She lifted her voice just enough to call out to him, her paws tapping out her inflection: Greeting, friendly, cautious. "Greetings!" She approached a few more steps, the boy carried the scent of a pack on him but no fresh scent of any other particular wolves, was he alone out here? "What are you doing?" She asked, her tone flat and face its usual mask though her paws still signed out her tone: Curious. Not that she expected anyone this far out to be able to read her signs, only her uncle had been able to do so ever since she'd left Auster. It seemed the lands were swarming with barbarians who could neither read her signs nor understand proper etiquette and instead wore their expressions on their faces and in their voices.

"Speech"

Image by Honrin

Wendigo Klein

After threading another piece onto the string Wendigo began rifling through the bone pile. All of the bones might have been different, but there was - sort of - a pattern if you looked for one. For every couple of loose jangly bones threaded onto the string Wendigo tied a small one to the string itself; believing he was making the whole thing stronger. When it came to learning from experience the boy wasn't a total loss always; he'd made a mess or two with a broken necklace and the hunt for scattered beads, while fun when it happened, wasn't a hallmark of a well made piece of jewelry. And he wanted something special.

He'd just found the perfect little rabbit bone when a call startled him from his work. Wendigo jerked upright with a surprised, open-mouthed squeak; the tiny bone hanging onto his lower lip like an unlit cigarette. The boy lay there, completely still and mouth ajar, for a solid 5 seconds. Then he looked to the border, the stranger, and back again to make sure she wasn't trespassing. She wasn't. Too bad. Still...that didn't mean they couldn't be friends.

The boy was off like a shot in a clatter of scattered bones, moving much too fast for both the dangerous terrain and the close proximity of the stranger. Several steps in he realized he'd left his necklace behind. He doubled back, tail windmilling wildly, and snatched the string off the ground. All of the loose bones on one end flew off as he took off towards the stranger again. Unless she moved out of the way he would skid to a halt almost directly at her feet and even then there was no guarantee he wouldn't follow after her. Wendigo threw down the necklace and poked it proudly. "A necklace, you see? With lots and lots of little bonesies! They're just the best, I think. All clinky and clanky. I love them so much," he gritted his teeth and pressed hard on one of the skulls, "I could just squish them to pieces!" He looked up at the girl with wide, innocent eyes. "What do you think?"

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Table coded by Scarlet