We Are Stained with the Blood of Stars

Deity chuffed, miffed, when Dutch coarsely dubbed her “Dei”. She opened her mouth, then hopelessly closed it. This she-wolf didn’t seem like the type to respect her wishes, especially those on the more trivial side. Deity gritted her teeth and allowed Dutch to speak. Hjarrandi? Vikings? These words held no meaning to Deity, but did give her a clue as to where Dutch came from. Certainly a foreign, faraway land. Perhaps not from Borealis at all. Deity had heard of nomadic bands, sure, but not “Vikings”. What mysterious ingredients was Dutch looking for? Stones? Perhaps these Vikings were jewelers, she thought, remembering the painted wolf that had pierced her ears with golden hoops when she was a pup.
“Shiny stones? No, I’ve not seen anything of the sort...” Her words trailed off as she turned her head, looking for what Dutch described. “Perhaps in the pools?” This land was certainly beautiful, and Deity wouldn’t be surprised if gemstones were added to the mix. In fact...
Deity frowned, contemplating, them pawed at the moss beneath her. She clawed off a chunk, and, to her delight, a flash of light caught her eye. She was young, and for a moment, pup-like glee shone through her rigid demeanor as she tore more moss from the earth. A small pearlescent stone winked up at her. It was pale and shining, reminding Deity of the full moon. She wedged a claw in a crack in the rock around it, peeling up the jewel inlaid in dark stone. It was far from perfect— black rock clung to it in chunks, leaving only a small part of the jewel exposed. However, the gentle swell of the otherwise-jagged-edged rock gave away the true size of the jewel— about as big as a wolf’s iris.
Deity, coming back to herself, smothered the childish expression on her face and returned her gaze to Dutch. “Suppose I just found one,” she said.