God's Garden Altar

Of all the statues that had cropped up around Boreas and Auster, this one drew Aryn in the most. The familial representation was something she could relate to, even if her and Veigar were currently undergoing some difficulties and her 'co-parent' regularly abused her. Standing before this statue she felt warm and whole, like the stresses weighing on her shoulders had been lifted if only for a moment. It was a relief she never wanted to end, though she knew she could not idle here forever and had come only to show her appreciation in the form of an offering.

Aryn did not have much in the way of trade goods, nor would she risk stealing from Habari's stores and undergoing yet another gruesome wound at Recluse's claws. In light of her lack of possessions she had to make do with what she did have. Character development. Self improvement. Intangible things born of blood, sweat and tears. Over the year that had passed she had gathered to call her own some chickens, some bees and a hive, and even two companions. She had earned wounds that she would wear forever and had gained skills above and beyond what she had arrived to the Klein-run pack with. The days of her fainting at the sight of blood were past, and while she was beginning to lose hope in ever starting a family of her own, she had much to be proud of.

It was with this all in mind that Aryn approached the maternal-feeling statue, looking as sheepish and delicate as ever beneath the weighty stare. Very suddenly, she realized how much she missed her mother. What had happened to the woman, Aryn supposed she would never know. Perhaps her lack of closure was no one's fault but her own, for choosing to not join them in their new pack. "I'm sorry I didn't go to Valhalla with you." She blurted, emotion breaking her voice. She knew this statue was in no way her mother, but speaking her apology aloud to it as if it was felt cathartic all the same. The one statement was all that was needed to break the emotional dam within her, her ears slicking back in shame as she continued. "I made a lot of mistakes without you, and I miss you more than I can say."

Mistake after mistake, and they all led her to Recluse. And to Eyrun, and to Veigar. To Eligos and even to Corbie. "But I've done good things too. I've learned to raise animals rather than to kill them. I spoil my chickens and my bees. I couldn't do it without my companions however, a sweet little deer and a rooster who picks on him." At the mention of her livestock and companions, she withdrew a bundle from her small satchel. A few spotted eggs, portion of honeycomb, a single feather from the rooster and a tuft of fur carefully cut from the dik-dik. "I've made some friends. I know you would think Eligos is a bad influence, but I think he has good in him. And I know you would love Corbie, she would have been right at home in Lirim." Cradling with her paws two flat stones - one black, inlaid with flecks of gold and the other marbled and monochromatic - she placed them beside the honeycomb. "I've worked hard to improve my skills and learned to defend those who I love, though I'm not always successful. I have a son, his name is Veigar. I fought to defend him and while it made me unsightly, I would do it again." Digging through her bag once more, Aryn found and withdrew a third rock. This one was much larger than the river stones, roughly carved and stained with old blood. It was the rock she had 'crafted' herself and wielded as a weapon, for lack of any better options. "I'm going to fight for him again soon, when the time is right. When I do, I'll need something better than this. I think I've learned enough to craft a better one, so I won't need this anymore. You can have it, to remember where I once was and where I am now."

With a heavy, emotional sigh she placed the rock upon the altar and took a step back to admire the cluster of offerings. To any other wolf they would appear to be a random assortment of junk, but Aryn hoped this God might appreciate their stories. Her mother could be anywhere in Boreas, Auster, or even across the seas. She might even be dead. Though standing before the statue, Aryn swore she could feel her presence watching and listening. Bowing her head, the Valentine woman uttered a final whisper of thanks and bid the God farewell, wiping her scarred face with a paw to displace the last of the stubborn tears and heading off back towards home feeling a relief she hadn't felt in years.

NPC:
Many small eyes watched Aryn approach with her gift. They greedily rubbed their little paws together as they saw the delicious, scrumptious, wonderful eggs appear from her satchel. One smaller ferret rushed to move forward and grab them, but a crow caught it by its tail. “Shush! Listen to her tale,” he said sternly, dragging the ferret back into the surrounding pack of familiars.

Sufficiently cowed, the ferret stopped struggling and flopped on its belly to listen. As she finished speaking, the familiars bowed their heads and murmurs of appreciation and admiration rippled across the miniature crowd. When they did approach to take the eggs and other offerings, their movements were measured and polite.

You receive:
Deluxe immortality pass
Staff: note when claimed