While My Guitar Gently Weeps

Wyndelin peered out of his den in the Whistling Willows. Lirim was gone. The members were gone and the pack boundaries faded and it had been awhile since he'd seen his brother Eurus. He was starting to get lonely and unsure what to do with himself. Outside it was looking like a lovely day. It was calm and still green, the fronds of the willow trees were barely stirring and the sun was shining down bright and warm. He could hear a chorus of birds as well as a few frogs singing away. Probably one of their last concerts before winter would move in and still the air around them. That reminded him, he really needed to get a plan figured out for winter. He was a pretty skilled hunter. Perhaps it would work to stay here in the old Lirim territories. He could fortify his den, stock up some food for the winter and dthen just find a way to survive. He was good a that, he'd found out how to survive before and he'd do it again.

Wyndelin winced at the memories of the year. The start of the year had been brutal. He'd been abducted by slavers and forced to serve them as a hunter. He'd expend all his energy for scraps of food left after he meal the others ate, scraps after all his hard work. He'd grown scrawny and scrappy but at least he'd made a friend along the way. He looked out at the nearest willow. Down in the base of its roots he could see his magpie companion, Flikkr, hoping about and snatching a few late bugs out of the air. When Wyndelin finally got up and caught their lunch the bird would turn its attention to sharing the meal with the wolf.

It was thanks to Flikkr that Wyndelin was willing to try and escape again after his first failed attempt and thanks to the bird he'd managed to succeed on the second try. It had been a harrowing experience but nothing tasted sweeter than freedom. He'd relished it when he was first free. Racing across Boreas and running from the far east all to the far west, seeking to put as much distance between himself and his captors as possible. He still feared that they would follow after him and so he hoped to get to Lirim as swiftly as he could. He'd be protected by the pack, they wouldn't dare try to hurt him there. There was just one problem. He wasn't sure where exactly Lirim was. He'd gotten lost when the volcano erupted and when the slavers abducted him. As such he wasn't entirely sure how to get back. What he did know was that Lirim was in the west so that's where he went.

As Wyndelin had travelled he'd seen the devastation of the volcano. The bleak after math. The damage made it even harder to navigate as some places did not look at all like they had previously. In a moment the entire landscape had changed. He worked his way west, growling more uncertain of where he was going until he arrived a the festival that Valhalla had thrown. It was a wonderful experience. There were so many wolves and so many crafters. After having been forced to hunt for others it was a much more enjoyable experience to hunt as part of a team, to craft, to create, and of course to enjoy one of his first full meals in ages. Who knew a full stomach could be so delightful?

At the festival he'd gained useful knowledge and met fellow crafters. During that time he'd join fellow wolves in hunts and others for an exchange of knowledge and crafting. In particular he was learning that he enjoyed doing crafting with hides and the results of his efforts in hunting. It was with Flikkr's help that he was finally able to find Lirim. He'd never been happier to see his old home and he remembered that it was a beautiful spring evening. The sky was clear and full of stars. He'd been so happy to see Torin again.

Of course… Wyndelin turned his head and frowned. Arriving in Lirim had been both a blessing and a curse. It had been so wonderful to see his brother Eurus again, to be home again. However, the news of his father's passing and he disappearance of his other siblings had been a terrible blow. It had taken him awhile to process the news, in fact he wasn't sure that he ever really had. To thing he'd gained his freedom and lost so much else. He hoped they'd reconnect with their missing sisters eventually but perhaps he ought to just accept that they'd gone their own way. With neither mother nor father it made sense that the siblings would wander. However, Wyndelin needed family. He had no one else to turn to and so he clung to his brother Eurus for direction.

Wyndelin rested his head on his forelegs for a moment. He was trying to cheer up, trying tot be more positive but the emotion just wasn't coming for him. He felt almost nauseous. Perhaps things would be better tomorrow.