To Build A Memory

Charlie left the Col with Silveris in tow. The shrike flew on ahead of the yearling as he padded into the woods. He was on the search for Wylan, but this time, he came with the task his father, no, the Warlord had asked of him. He would still be able to separate duty and family, but this was a task for the former. He needed to find his nephew and bring up the task Sirius had placed with him. But though he had the task, he needed to remember he would be working with a child. Creating a weapon or piece of armor for a child would be interesting.

It couldn’t actually be sharp, but if it was armor it would still need to be protective. He also couldn’t count on an armor piece that would last Wyl into adulthood, but considering something that be adjusted as he got a little older would work. Then, regardless of the route his nephew took, he could use the premise of what he asked for as a child to work on a piece to present him when he reached a year old. But before he considered the task of creation, he wanted to find his nephew and express his interest to spend some more time with him.

Last time he had started to show Wylan defenses, a base for any warrior to know. This time he could start with an explanation of the tools a warrior could use to be more of a formidable foe. Lead into asking which Wylan felt was more important, and then work with him on making something. The idea made him smile, and kept him a bit more distracted than he meant to be. He wasn’t watching the trees, though Silveris was keeping an eye out for him. Charlie just… he felt at peace with himself. Happy. He felt like he was finding his place in the Armada and moving closer to that wolf he wanted to be. He thought of his mother, remembering her smile, and slowed to a stop, closing his eyes.

So many warm memories… Even if she wasn’t here, he could feel her warmth within the land. Her memories were kept with all of them. It had hurt so much when they first lost her, and it hurt more to see his family hurting. Learning how life went on, even after losing someone you loved was a strange thing. It didn’t mean they weren’t missed. Didn’t mean they weren’t loved. But the living had to tend to those still here. He opened his eyes, gaze falling on the cuffs around his paws. A gift from his father on his first birthday, made with something from his mother. His brace too was a gift from her. Would the item he made with Wylan hold that same sort of significance? A memory of positive times and warmth? He hoped so.

Silveris would wing down, calling to Charlie to draw him out of his thoughts. He had completely spaced out, lost in his memories. He relaxed, giving a small nod to the bird. “Right… the treehouse is close, isn’t it? Wylan could be anywhere in the area now.” His blue eyes turned to the branches above. Would his nephew get the drop on him a second time? His ears perked, swiveling. At least this time he’d be a bit more prepared for it.

"Speech," 'Thought.'