hallmark

He chuckled softly, then let his head droop to the side as he thought back over what he’d been told, what he knew. Finally, he returned his eyes to Lia and said, “How aboooout, how Valhalla of old came to be?”

His ears flicked as he waited a beat, then began, falling into an easy cadence, “Long ago, there was a land called Ciroc. There were several packs there, though the exact names elude me. One, however, was called Starlite. For a time, Starlite warred with a pack called Glaciem, until an uneasy peace settled, or perhaps the war was just set aside in the great upheaval that rocked the land. The details on that I’m not clear on. No one’s left that was there to see it.”

He rocked his head back, eyes roving as he sought the tendrils of history. “The packs that left Ciroc found a land called Alacritis. It was virile and lush, prey abounded. It was then that Starlite became Valhalla. Led as before by Cairo the first, they settled, prospered. Peace was found with Old Glaciem, friendships forged.”

His lips curved into a smile, as though he could see the figures of wolves, many of them, coursing through a land long since left behind, hunting great herds. He wished he could have met his grandmother, gotten the story from her—she’d been but a pup when...

Ah, but he was getting ahead of himself, at least in his thoughts. “Peace wasn’t to be had for all, though. Cairo sent envoys to the other packs, and he himself, with the healer Erani included in the group, to meet with a pack called Tortuga. The Tortugans were darkly aligned, and tensions arose. While a full on war never broke out, it was common knowledge that Valhalla and Tortuga were not fond of one another, and were enemies.”

His lips twitched as he shifted the scene back to the Valhallan home ground, continuing with a glance to Lia, “It was after a time that Cairo chose a new Queen, his first having vanished, carrying his get in her womb. She was never found, but their children showed up a long while later. The new Queen of Valhalla was Guinevere, a well-liked fighter and one of the upper ranked members of the pack. She was timber of coat, and golden of eye, from what I’m told. She was a strong queen for a good while, bearing one litter of four. Three girls, one boy. Syrinx, Chrysanthe, Epiphron, Eos. Cairo had also adopted two boys – brothers by the name of Preston and Neo, and Guinevere had brought her adopted son, Collision.”

His deep sapphire gaze dropped to the furs. “It wasn’t very long after the births of their children that Guinevere fell ill. She fell one day, and the now Lead Healer Erani sought a way to get her back to the den, as Guinevere begged of her to swear that she would not tell Cairo she was so ill.”

A slight shake of the head pervaded his words, “But Cairo himself came upon them, and Erani could not refuse him when he spoke as king, friend, and mate to the ailing Queen, and told him of the illness. The Queen flew into a rage, sending the Lead Healer off with harsh words. The details after that are unknown. It was between Cairo and his Queen, and none were there to hear or relay the events.”

His eyes roved, following an imagined form as he continued, “So we move to the healer. She searched hard, and in her search, she was attacked by wolves from her own past. Cairo and his brother Coeus, and the beta Blitzkrieg saved her life, killing the assassins while she took the herbs and hurried to Guinevere, though she herself was deeply wounded.”

An uncharacteristic grimace pulled at his lips as he went on. “She would be healed by one of the other healers, Blu, but it was too late to save Guinevere. She died a few months later.”

He stretched and flexed his good legs, shifting slightly as he went on. “Erani might well have wasted away in guilt, but Cairo threw her a vine. He never blamed her for the loss of his Queen—she’d done what she could. And so, he gave his children to her care. For a few days, but truly, it was for the rest of their lives. She loved them as her own, believing at the time that she – who wished so dearly for them – could not bear children.”

His head cocked as he trailed his mind over the history flicking a glance at Lia as he paused for a moment long enough that if she was highly engrossed, she might just hold her breath. He would have.

“Grief would be had, but life would eventually return to normal. Another pack melded with Valhalla due a drought in their area, and Valhalla’s number swelled to the seventies, easily the most powerful pack in the continent by numbers. Alas, normalcy would not remain. Glaciem, fleeing their northern homeland, brought a dire warning. The volcano in their lands was preparing to erupt, and soon, all the packs were fleeing Alacritis in a mass exodus, Valhalla and Glaciem in the lead.

They escaped the eruption, but not far enough ahead that they did not see the devastation wrought on the lands they’d cherished and come to love for so long.”

He paused suddenly, as if suddenly alert to Lia and grinning, “Am I boring you?”

His tail thumped softly as he perked his ears at her, head cocking a-la german shepherd style. Deep down, he hoped he wasn’t. These were the stories and histories he’d grown up with, from the stories his mother told him, to the wider view he’d gotten from Aurielle and Regulus. Valhalla had been one of the first pack to settle in Boreas so long ago.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think