Where oceans bleed into the sky

Things were going relatively well; his youngest siblings were growing like weeds, he’d brought at least one new wolf into the pack – Solveiga -, and he was feeling okay about the future of the pack, if only the near future. Things were never completely certain, and he would take things as they came. However, there were things that had already come that niggled.

Miksa was still missing. So was Ganja. Had the illness sweeping the land taken them both? Ganja had already been sick when she’d disappeared… He’d tracked Miksa’s scent as far as he could with it so stale already, and found nothing. No blood, no fur, no body… No smells of other wolves that he could define. It worried him. But maybe the white male would be back.

The scent of blood, and Varda broke him from his musings as he strolled across the plains, having finished his patrol, and he leapt forward with a bark. “Varda?!” The concern in his voice sent the called name booming more than he’d intended as he raced after the scents on the breeze, skidding to a halt as he saw a bramble bush shake forcefully. If he ducked down an bit, he could just see her white fur through the branches.

”Varda?” He dropped to his belly, scooting forward until his head was under the bush with her. Gods, she didn’t look good, and even as he looked at her, she punched the thorny branch again, seemingly oblivious to the pain… Or maybe there was a pain she was more focused on. He was no expert on love, but he’d known and seen that she and Miksa were quite close. Miksa had been the one to bring her to Celestial when his mother had held her claiming. The two had never really been apart…

His ears fell back slightly. What must she be thinking? What must she be feeling? She hadn’t really mingled deeply with the pack yet. He had come across Zuriel’s scent mingled with Varda’s one day, but few others. Admittedly, he was also aware that Baine hadn’t been getting the training she was supposed to get, but that was both of them.

The white Destruction woman looked like she might punch the branches, and he reached out a paw, wanting to stop the self injury. “Hey, hey, hey. Varda. Look at me.” It was a gentle, rumbling command, but he wasn’t sure if anything would get through to her right now.