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The small woman was very, very grateful that the man said nothing about her little mess up. In fact, he seemed not to notice it at all, and she breathed a sigh of relief as he moved on to his retelling of history. Her ears lifted to be perked attentively again and after a moment she lay beside him, close enough that the fur of their sides just barely mingled. Solveiga looked out across the territory as her alpha spoke, envisioning the scene of the battle in which his grandmother lost her pack. She frowned faintly as he told this part of the story, of how his family had taken his grandmother to an island to recover and his great uncle had passed away in the meantime. He then talked about how they returned to the mainland, and how his parents had met up again and had mated in the summer. The way he said it, though, had Solveiga laughing gently. He skirted the subject the same way she would have done.
Regulus then told her that he had been born that autumn, and she bowed her head in a similar manner. "And what a marvelous day that must have been," she said with a lightly teasing tone, laughing gently as she looked up at the man. She continued to look up at him with a gentle smile as he talked about his earliest memories, and about how his mother revived the old Valhalla and called it Celestial. It was his family that provided the base, just as she suspected. Families were the strongest foundations for a pack, in her opinion.
After this Solveiga looked back out again, her eyes following the paths of clouds in the sky as she listened closely to Regulus telling of the less than friendly pack that used to share these lands with them. Arcanum. Believed to have been formed by the woman who won Valhalla. It made Solveiga almost angry to hear how such an honorable pack had been treated, practically stolen and then corrupted completely until it was unrecognizable. Then it was not Valhalla at all. This was not her history, not really. And yet she felt the tug of emotion that came with his words. It upset her. Kidnapped sisters and fathers, frightened mothers...
She looked up again, her blue eyes seeking his as he talked about his pendant and his scar. Those stories made her smile. But then the story took another bad turn as Regulus told her what had happened to his father. Maimed by that stupid pack. The way he spoke of this Arcanum made her certain that they were gone, however, and Solveiga was grateful for that. Just then, she noticed the faraway look that overtook the crimson man beside her, and her eyes held the same sort of unreachable awe and admiration as she listened to him speak of the death of his grandmother. She could not imagine what that must be like, witnessing a death. But the way Regulus spoke of it, it seemed to be an almost magical, beautiful thing to behold. And the woman supposed he could be right. Witnessing the peaceful end of a life well lived, of course that could be beautiful. She did not doubt it.
The story continued to unfold and Solveiga smiled, more brightly this time, and her tail swayed absently behind her, unintentionally brushing his from time to time. She loved this. She loved learning. And she had to admit that the man was an excellent storyteller. But these stories were true, and sometimes she could hardly believe it, especially near the end. Regulus and his mother, swept out to sea in a great storm only to find themselves on an entirely different continent. Her baby blue eyes were wide, completely engaged in the story. It seemed to her that this misadventure on the southern continent, where the man before her was forced to heal his injured mother and hunt for them both... this had been when he had truly grown up. When he had become the man she now knew, still kind and gentle but also so strong. It was a beautiful story, and it wasn't even over. She nodded eagerly, still smiling up at the man with a look of fresh admiration in her eyes. Was he boring her yet? "Not yet," she answered with a giggle. Not ever.
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