Emerging from the Grip of Night's Unfolding Arms

Try as he might Álarr just could not get back to sleep. Nightmares had been haunting him since the volcanic eruption and sleep was now a difficult quarry. He'd failed in catching much tonight. With a sigh he got to his feet and slipped out of his den into the cool winter air. Spring was around the corner. When it arrived he'd be a full year old but in his heart he still felt like a little pup. More than anything he wanted to find Valentine's den and snuggle up next to his father. However, he also feared this would be seen as weakness, especially at this age. He wasn't sure he could really talk to any of his siblings about how he felt and Afi was so focused on his training he doubted the cat would give him more than a 'its not that bad, suck it up.'

He turned his head to look back at the opening of the den. Maybe Brynhildr? He supposed he could try asking her tomorrow. The moon hung in the sky but like always it was hidden behind a veil of clouds and ash. Muted. Dim. Álarr's gaze shifted to his paws and he started working his way across the basin. He felt like he'd been walking for hours when he noticed that his paws seemed brighter than usual. His head flicked up to see the moon break free from the dim cloak that had smothered its light for so long.

Álarr inhaled sharply as he stared at the light. Spirits above it had seemed like it had been so long since he'd seen the sun or the moon wreathed in their full beauty, their light shining unhindered, bright and true.