call it holy, call it just

Tove has separated herself from the rest of the pack, choosing to sequester herself away in her den as her health slowly declines. Lately, she spent most of time her sleeping, preferring her dreams to what the waking world. Every time she closed her eyes, Bodin was there, alive and whole, pushing her to fight back and live. Yet, when she opened her eyes and found herself in the same den, alone… the warmth of the dream quickly gave way to the harsh coldness of her reality. Nothing seemed worth doing anymore and the woman simply waited for her body to stop working so that she could enter the afterlife.

Yet, life is not done with her and a snow leopard gently rouses the depressed woman into the waking world. Gummy eyelids blink sluggishly as Tove lifts her head from the furs that make her bed, finding herself to still be alive. The leopard beckons her and the old wolf blows out a soft sigh before gathering her limbs underneath herself and standing. The pops that fill the air make the woman wince but they help her joints move more fluidly as she follows the creature out. Maybe, if she had realized that Aslatiel would be waiting at the borders with the Shadow, the galaxy pelted wolf would have shaken out her coat and tried to appear presentable.

Maybe.

By the time, the forms begin to resolve from dots into actual wolves, Tove feels heat flood her cheeks and she dips her head in shame. She had given up on her hope that Víðarr would come for her; believing it to be just another one of his promises, made in a time of desperation, to a woman standing on the edge. Yet here he is. The older wolf cannot look at him as she comes to a stop near Asla, dipping her head in greeting to the Alpha but remaining silent as she does not trust her voice right now. Is this another one of her dreams? Or is Víðarr truly here to fulfill his promise? Duel-toned eyes dart between the pair as she waits to hear what they need her for.


"Tove Baade"