Build me up from bones, Wrap me up in skin, Hold me close enough to breathe me in

Drífa eyed the darkening sky. Evening was falling and the clouds were gathering above her, swiftly blocking out the sun. To the north she could see a dark band looming across the horizon. Clouds, swollen with snow, were easing their way southward. She felt so close to home but picked up the pace to be sure. Her bagged jostled across her shoulders as she leapt deftly over a small creek and into the mouth of the gorge. Brynhildr flew above her in silence, but she knew the raven was troubled by the weather. The air was growing colder by the moment and then suddenly everything was still, eerily slow.

She focused on the path in front of her. The ground was icy from a bout of freezing drizzle the night before. Ice clung to the trees but it was mostly dull and lifeless compared to the shimmering light of morning that danced and refracted within their frozen forms. Drífa paused, panting then rotated her shoulders, trying to ease the tightness. She'd been out gathering a variety of barks. She hoped to test them out in poultices and see if she could discren any medicinal qualities from them. Winter was a hard time for fresh herbs. She pretty much had to rely on what she'd gathered during better months or take the time to venture far south to greener pastures.

Snow started to fall, gently at first. Large flakes danced and twirled before the wind suddenly came screaming down from the north. Drífa flinched. The cold bit into her ears and she narrowed her eyes against the stinging snow. It was falling heavily now, blowing almost horizontally across the terrain. Brynhildr tumbled for a moment then caught herself, choosing to land on Drífa's back rather than fight the strong winds. One thing was clear they needed to get to shelter. Between the wind and the snow she was finding her visibility dropping rapidly. Thankfully she had a half dug storage den out here somewhere. If she could just find it they could take shelter there.

Word Count: 345
Total: 345

Splitting time between the two lands the pack occupied, Ignatius had decided it would be best if he had a den in each land available. He'd been working on gathering hides from recent kills he'd made and left to chill in the gorge and had transported them to the current work in progress den he had going in the red forest. It was tedious, and the den wasn't actually entirely dug out since the ground was just too cold for that, but eventually he was certain he'd have something to be proud of when he was done. Unfortunately, as he stood with one caribou hide in his jaws looking out at the snow flurries that blew past through the even-windier-than-usual gorge, Ignatius began to reconsider making the trip to the other territory. Maybe postpone it for now... A bone-chilling breeze buffeted his thick pelt, cutting right through it and confirming that he indeed did not want to go out and get himself in trouble in the apparent storm that was only getting worse by the minute as the black clouds overhead foreshadowed a long, cold day.

As the snow began to fall faster and heavier, seemingly bent on approaching whiteout conditions in the near future, Ig stood at the mouth of the cave he'd been storing kills in. It was probably chance that managed to catch the wolf-shaped movement further out. The only all white member was Drífa. Was she heading towards an herb den? Cautiously curious, the red man would venture out into the snow, head low and eyes squinting as he walked out into the wind and called out, "Drífa!" Hoping to get her attention before he made his way closer to where he could speak more easily with her. The snow on the ground was only going to get deeper and harder to trudge through, they needed to get back to shelter soon.

"Fancy sharing a space till some of this blows over?" he asked with a grin, gesturing the way he'd come where several of the caves were in use for various things. Her dens were a little further than the one he'd come from, but they could make it there fine. The darker the snow and cloud cover made it the more the soft glow of his pelt became easier to see. At least they probably wouldn't lose each other on the way there.



Word count: 398
Total: 743

Build me up from bones, Wrap me up in skin, Hold me close enough to breathe me in

Snow continued to fall in sheets as the sky grew darker and darker until the sun finally disappeared beneath the horizon. Drífa growled in frustration. The amount of snow already on the ground plus the rapid escalation of even more was making it difficult to find her storage den which had been dug into the earth. The entrance had been covered with thick bands of bark and she'd set a birch stick with some reeds tied to the top up to mark it in the ever increasing snow but she did not account for this much volume. A silly mistake. She assumed the winter's in this land would be significantly milder and to a small extent they were but the amount of precipitation was impressive.

She heard Ignatius call out and turned to see his bright coat standing out like a beacon against the snow. Though the increase in the snowy down pour combined with the wind was quickly obscuring even his gaudy coat. She swiftly moved over toward him and nodded. "Yes, that would be wonderful. I can't seem to find my spare storage den."

She followed Ignatius to the entrance of a cave and quickly slipped inside. Already it seemed much warmer now that she was out of the wind and after she took a moment to gently poke Brynhildr into getting off her, she shook out her coat before venturing further inside. She smelt the scent o game and assumed this was a place for hunting storage. Gently sitting down she gazed back out at the storm. It was impressive.

"So what have you been up to Ignatius?" She figured she may as well strike up conversation. She had no idea how long the storm would last.

Word Count: 288
Total: 1031

"Yes, that would be wonderful. I can't seem to find my spare storage den."

Not surprising in this horrendous weather. He thought he knew where she was looking to go, but getting there seemed like a bit more of a trial than he was willing to undertake given how quickly visibility was going down out here. He was quick to lead the way back to shelter, his much larger form cutting a path through the snow which was deepening quickly. "This way, it's not too far." he called above the wind. When they made it back to delightfully pleasant smelling cave he shook his fur out carefully, far enough away to not send snow flying in Drífa's direction. It was probably going to be a while before venturing out was an option.

"Oh, not too much, mostly sorting things and moving things and busying myself with too many projects," he laughed, glancing back towards the carcasses he'd stored and pelts that were still strewn across the floor. He had far too many plans and not enough time or packmates to help make them all happen very soon. Learning to slow down and work with what he had was a lesson he was struggling with. Perhaps if Kirsi... But she wasn't here, and he wasn't ready to deal with that. "I was curious though, what sorts of things you crafted in the north to keep warm in such especially brutal conditions. I admittedly didn't get to learn a lot about the culture there. Our mother tried to teach us, but, I at least was always kept too busy to learn much. If you don't mind, since I'm sure we'll be stuck here a while, would you be interested in sharing some of what I've missed? I always did like hearing a good story or two, when I got the chance."


Word count: 309
Current total: 1340

Build me up from bones, Wrap me up in skin, Hold me close enough to breathe me in

Drífa chuckled lightly as Ignatius told her how he'd been keeping busy. It always seemed like the list of things to do was never-ending. Every time she turned around there were two more tasks that needed to be tended to. For every task she got done, four more would spring up in its place. She could only imagine how exacerbated the situation would be when one was a pack leader.

She listened somberly as Ignatius spoke of some of the missing pieces from his cultural knowledge. "I will have to show you some time. Not much beats a good musk ox pelt, I can tell you that much!" She chuckled to herself. It had been ages since Drífa had been on a proper musk ox hunt. She pondered his request for stories for awhile and shrugged lightly. "There are so many I hardly know where to start, but if you will humor an old woman I would love to tell you a story from my childhood that Im rather fond of. It is the story of how the bear lost his tail."  It was a children's story, a story to explain why bears didn't seem to have the lovely tails that predators like foxes, wolves and mountain lions had. All in good fun, a traditional folk tale.

"You see, long, long ago the bear had a beautiful, luxurious long tail. It was the finest tail of all the forest creatures and he would preen and fuss and go out of his way to show it off. Most of the forest creatures humored the bear but the fox soon became annoyed with the bear's posturing.

"One day, in the dead of winter the fox stumbled across a fisherman who had opened a hole in the ice of a frozen lake. He'd caught a bunch of fish and the crafty fox stole a whole string of them before the fisherman could catch him. Then the fox waited. Eventually, the fisherman left with the fish he still had and the fox dragged the stolen fish across the ice toward the hole and waited.

"Sure enough, the bear smelled the fish and came over to the fox. 'Wow,' said the bear, 'how did you catch all of these fish. Teach me so that I may catch dinner for myself.'  The fox agreed and explained to the bear how he caught the fish. 'You see this hole in the ice, my friend? I put my tail through the hole into the water and waited until the fish started to bite. When my tail got good and heavy I pulled it out of the water and got all these fish. Why, with your beautiful tail I'm sure you could catch far more than this!'

"The bear eagerly agreed. Of course he would catch the most fish! Carefully, he put his tail into the hole in the ice and waited. And he waited. And he waited some more. The bear looked to the fox. 'Do you think its been long enough?' The fox shook his head and insisted that the bear keep waiting. He'd feel an incredible weight on his tail when it was time. After all, surely the bear didn't want to pull his tail from the ice when he only had one or two fish.

"So the bear waited, and waited and waiiiittteddd…. the bear waited all night and without meaning to he fell asleep. When the bear woke up the next morning and tried to stand he realized his tail was now frozen in the ice. Angry, he pulled and he pulled and he pulled until SNAP- he pulled himself free leaving his poor tail still frozen in the pond.

"And that is the story of how the bear lost his long tail and why all the descendants of bears have their short stubby little tails." Drífa chuckled to herself, hoping the silly little tail amused Ignatius.

Word Count: 650
Total: 1990