Afternoons with Ghosts

[Grell]

He wasn't positive which tree it was, at least for the moment, but he was sure that the squirrel had climbed up one of them. Already the little vermin had come by enough confidence to scold Grell, and he flattened his ears against the harsh chirps and clicks. "Another day!" he promised with a snort. But even as his yellow eyes scanned the evergreen boughs, he was afraid he had already lost the pipsqueak rodent. Turning briskly away, he wondered with some cheer what cruel fate Fenris had in mind for the squirrel, seeing as how the wolf god would have to be in a very sour mood to vanguard a meal from one of his devoted followers. But, then again... Grell looked up into the hazy sky and frowned. Fenris was nothing more than an ultra-bright smear behind a gauze of silver clouds. No doubt, the mighty Dragga was brooding and bemoaning his bad luck with the weather, just as Grell had been doing for the better part of the morning. Mist and cold and a very eerie silence had done little to calm the pup's nerves from the time he had awoken until now, and only his badly executed hunt had kept him from falling over and curling snugly into a fuzz-ball until some better weather had flown in. Even now, the idea was beginning to look more and more appealing, and he wondered if anyone would notice. Most certainly not, but he looked over his shoulder even so.

He saw no one... Of course, there was a little problem with short-sightedness thanks to the eerie mist.

He tried not to think about what could be hiding behind this heavy fog, and looked about his immediate vicinity for a sturdy tree trunk and some nicely bedded leaves instead. It took only a moment or so, in which a little wandering was used, until he found the perfect place. A bowl-shaped ring of dead grass and damp leaves lined a beautiful nook between two gnarled roots and a woody old tree trunk. He sniffed the area appreciatively and wrinkled his nose. Besides the musty smell of an old resident, skunk presumably, there was little to suggest that anyone would take offense at his presence here. Course, there are those who take offense at plain old wolves, period, but I very much doubt they'd be much of a mind to say so face to face. He smirked and circled round once, twice, thrice, before he flopped to his belly with an unceremonious grunt. He laid his chin on his paws and looked out into the vast emptiness. Really, there wasn't much to see besides several feet of hazy dead leaves, maybe a faint tree trunk or two, and then a thick wall of white fog. Without it, he wondered if the place would be any more interesting.

Grell doubted it. After several miles, trees all began to look alike. It was too bad the gods didn't seem to have much of a humor when it came to creating the world.

And then, just as he was about to drift off into dreamland, the sound came to him. Like a thin buzzing, at first. He thought it was a bee or a fly rattling about his ears, and he shook his head angrily. But then he realized that it was like the wind through the trees: hushed and hissing. There was no wind, though, of that he was sure. It was all a bit disconcerting, really, and his hackles raised an inch. Grell wanted to bare his teeth and tell the noise to go away, but his curiosity was piqued and - like the pied piper, he couldn't refuse to listen or follow the sound. He clamored to his paws with the ease of a water buffalo, or an up-ended turtle, and walked warily toward the distant whisper. After several feet, he realized that the sound was getting progressively louder and louder the closer he came, and he wondered if something magical was making the sound, trying to coax him into some sort of trap. Then, just before he decided to stop, he was forced to. When his toes touched the water, he knew exactly what the sound was: a waterfall.

[linnaea]

It was a cool morning, though a Varg wouldn’t notice through their thick pelt. A thick fog hung over the ground, swirling around gnarled tree roots and drifting lazily across the hard ground. It was a strange and eerie sight, the disfigured mist that could be seen everywhere and somehow not touched. Like a spirit walking the earth in attempts to find peace, or perhaps the mist was more ill tempered than that, perhaps it was more interested in obscuring one’s path, what with the thick wafts of white to cloud one’s vision.
But at the same time the terrifying could be beautiful. You could see, albeit not very well, but one could make out the vague shapes that lay ahead of their paw-pads. Thick black shadows that could only be tree trunks, a small round shape that must’ve been a shrub, an ovular shape attached to four spires could only be - a what?

A wolf of course, though at such a distance it could’ve been a deer or maybe a coyote, or even some sort of badger. No, she was a wolf. The fae had an earthen toned bodice, her pelt mostly brown with cream on her face and toes and belly. She looked like your average pup - though she was getting towards full grown by now and was in the situation of contemplation of what to do with herself. The only thing that made her a not-so-average Varg were the patterns on her rump and soft underbelly - and perhaps the patches of black moving up all four of her legs. Indeed she had large splotches of inky black to cover those areas, and an overo patterns laid atop them in splatters of snow - figuratively speaking of course, the splatters simply being colored white. These patterns inherited from her father she never thought anything of them; except maybe as a marking of her lineage. The daughter of the great Dragga Chalos, leader of Deor; and of the late Drappa Lucivar. And yet she never seemed to be recognized for it.

She walked slowly through the fog, her translucent brown eyes trying to make out shapes that might lead her somewhere interesting, somewhere that wasn’t home yet. She didn’t want to return to Deor - a place where, even though her father was the leader, no one knew her. A place that she felt was not her home, even though she had been born there. No, instead she padded onward, in the unmarked territories of the wild, being careful of any boundaries.
A sudden cry was heard overhead and she was startled into looking up at the white and gray sky. No Fenris to warm or protect her today. It seemed that perhaps Wolfbane might have his fun. Linnaea shook her head - for Linnaea was her name - and dismissed the sound. Nothing but a silly bird, a helper, she thought to herself, attempting to reassure her unsure mind.
And then she heard it too, just as the brute had. A humming-roaring sound, somewhere between those two. A strange sound that drew her forward. She’d never encountered anything like it, except maybe the rapids at the river - ah the river, she’d been there just a few days ago, chattering on with her new friend Kop. He’d taught her some skills that she would value for many years, perhaps the rest of her life. And he’s opened his borders to her, been willing to - if she so decided - welcome her into his lands to stay for a while when starting out as a Kerl. Not yet though, she told herself, I will tell my papa first.

Following the roar, which she decided as the humming got louder, she found the falling water - and spied an unfamiliar figure in the fog. Uneasy with such a thing as the shadow of another body she made her way in an arch around it, not getting too much closer (and not defining the shape to be anything that might be friendly). She swallowed her fear and moved forward a few paces, her back was arched and her head low, black-tipped ears pinned back against her cranium, her tail dangling between her hind legs and then curling up to meet her belly. But the closer she got the more she relaxed, the shape was soon defined as a fellow Varg. Now the only question left was if it was friendly. She tried to get a sample of it’s scent, but the wind was stale and frozen. Her tracking sense was useless unless she pressed her nose into the dirt to follow a trail.
So she approached more slowly, taking a submissive position. She moved until she was a good few feet away and cleared her throat, hoping not to startle her companion. “Hello…?” She murmured, her voice raising at the end as if to make her greeting a question.

//told you I would post sometime soon//

[Grell]

Slowly, Grell turned around.

She wasn't the biggest wolf he had ever seen, but she did seem to be at least a few months older than him if her size was anything to judge by. It was one reason why he sighed heavily with relief: big wolves scared him. They were usually the ones that wanted to give him a good bite on the nose to prove that they were tougher than he was - though there did seem to be some logic missing while they bit him. After all, Grell was still a bit too much on the scrawny side to pose much of a threat to anyone. The second reason for his sigh was simply because, with all this strange and eerie mist floating about, he was afraid that a ghost would sneak up on him and eat him. He very much doubted that trying to run away from a ghost would do much good. But... He looked at her and cocked his head to the side. She looked like she would easily keep up with him too, ghost or no. Either way, he hoped he wouldn't have to worry about it. Fenris was a bit arbitrary when it came to his protection, and with all this foul weather, Grell doubted the wolf god would be up for saving his scrawny hide if she - or anything else out there today - had a mind to try and eat him. Fortunately, she looked like she was more worried about scaring him than eating him.

"Uh..." he choked with a bit of strain in his voice. Being snuck up on did have that effect on him. Grell coughed. "Hi." Just then, he noticed with a frown that his fur was sticking up all over the place and no doubt making him look like some puffed-up porcupine. Another effect of being surprised, he supposed. With a bit of concentration, he managed to lay the worst of it back down again, and realized that he felt more like himself when his fur was smoothed back into place. He looked back up and hoped she wasn't laughing at him.

"So... uh, you here for the waterfall too?" he mumbled a bit awkwardly and praying once again that he hadn't made the stupid mistake of trespassing into her territory. If that was the case she didn't seem to mind, but he didn't think that any of her companions would be so easygoing. He peeked a bit worriedly over her shoulder, but he needn't have bothered. The fog was so thick that he could hardly see the end of her freckled rump, much less any wolf hiding in the bushes beyond and waiting to bite his throat out. Grell grimaced openly at the thought of what a mess it'd be, but turned back anyway and tried to smile. After all, he could be wrong. His imagination did run away with him occasionally... then catapult him into the sky and make him sick - sometimes quite literally, as was the case when he had stolen that trout from a rather dumb bear. He was quite a dumb bear, though, he thought with a bit of relish. And that fish had been almost as divine the second time he tasted it - coming back up, as it were.

[linnaea]

He was saved from her laughing at him, her hackles were bristled slightly themselves and her legs were shaking with nerves. She wasn’t used to approaching Varg her age, it made her self conscious and unsure. She was always afraid that they would hate her. Always the worrier. Well, maybe not always, she did have a tendency to get along with adults - some adults. She wasn’t too fond of those in her own pack, she loved them, and the cubs too - they were her family after all; she just didn’t get alone with them.

Waterfall…

“Is that what this is called?” She’d never seen one before, her milky brown eyes gazed, mystified by the falls. It was possibly the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The water sparkled as it cascaded from the rocks, flowing down the side of the cliff above, even on such a cloudy and misty day as this. It seemed only to make the sight even more amazing. She was glad the male wasn’t a spirit. Sometimes she had nightmares involving ghosts - just because she didn’t know what a waterfall was until now didn’t mean that she was totally out of the loop. Every pack had a storyteller after all, Deor was no different, and those stories sometimes contained such evils as ghosts, spirits of the departed Varg that haunted the land under the watchful gaze of Wolfbane. Specters were one of the most terrifying things, she didn’t ever want to run into one. She hoped her mum wasn’t one of His creatures now.
“Oh! How rude of me… I’m Linnaea.” She gave a curt bow, it was stiff because she wasn’t used to the gesture. Not many in her pack tended to hang around her, thus she was left out of any pup rankings, so she was a Kerl in her own pack - though she’d soon enough be a normal Kerl.

It seemed that this land was indeed open territory. He didn’t seem to own it. After introducing herself she relaxed, she lowered her haunches to the ground, and took a sample of the still air around them. There was a crow that could be heard cawing from the trees above. That was eerie - possibly just as eerie as the roaring water. She then turned her gaze back to the male. “Did you come to see these? Is this… waterfall?” she said the word slowly, testing it on her tongue before she was sure she got it right, “Is it famous?”

[Grell]

"Yeah... you never heard of them?" Grell asked and plopped down on his rump. The ground was a bit damp here, but who ever heard of a Varg who was worried about a bit of muck? Certainly not Grell, who was already covered in a light coating of dirt. He followed her mystified stare up at the falls, equally impressed by the spraying column of water as she was. Even though Fenris was glazed over by the clouds, his light was still strong enough to make the water sparkle as it fell. Hm... figures, Grell thought a bit despondently and flicked his ears. At least the wolf god was having fun making the water shimmer. Now, if only He had the same interest in keeping me safe. Grell frowned and looked back to his new, speckled friend. He wondered what she was thinking, if she was having the same thoughts about Fenris that he did. Probably not... maybe with Tor, though. He mused thoughtfully. After all, wasn't Tor every Drappa's goddess?

He didn't have time to think about it, because she suddenly looked back at him and bowed. Or curtsied? Grell pulled his ears back uncomfortably and frowned even harder. Was he supposed to be as well-mannered in return? He hoped not. He didn't even remember if he had ever been taught anything besides 'don't bite your friends too hard.' "I'm Grell!" He blurted suddenly. It even took him by surprise and he choked on his own inhale. So much for well-mannered. He recovered his breath in a few seconds, but he figured his dignity might take a little longer. He looked at her a bit sheepishly and shrugged.

"Uh, I actually didn't know there was a waterfall here," he said quickly, trying to cover up his unfortunate tumble with his introduction. He liked to hear that she was having trouble talking too - except her's happened to be pronunciation rather than conversation. At least he didn't feel so bad now. Grell even grinned at her. "I was about ready to take a nap and then I heard it, so I came looking... I dunno if it's famous, but it might be. There are lots of waterfalls in stories - this could be one that was in a tale." He sighed, "But I don't guess we'd ever actually know, ya know. Not unless someone was here to tell us." His eyes sparkled and his grin grew even wider. Whoever said that they couldn't pretend that it was famous?

\\ ack, I know my posts are getting shorter and shorter, sorry :( //

[linnaea]

“Never, never.” Linnaea said, shaking her head back and forth as if to make it more clear to him. “No one ever told me about them either, but that’s the wondrous thing right? Seeing new things and getting to explore. I wouldn’t want the whole world to be told to me. I like the adventures of finding new things.” She grinned, her pink tongue lolling from her black lips and cream colored maw. Small puffs of condensation spurted from her mouth in the form of her exhales, though this wonder had been one previously visited. She knew that it was her body creating the strange Varg-made fog. While the rest of the fog surrounding them was God made. Of course contrary to his thinking to her Tor was simply the moon and Fenris was the sun. Religion was far out of her grasp, and was not something that she was greatly interested in. Papa never mentioned it much, and though most stories were religion based, she tended to wonder why the Creators were so apt at being involved before and weren’t so much anymore. But that was a controversy for another day.

Today was the magic of the falls. Too majestic was this mighty sight to allow deviation from it’s splendor. But a loud and sudden noise came to her ears, and she quickly returned attention to the male, Grell as he had said. Not quite elegant, actually it had been the opposite of that, it had been very clumsy. But she’d not hold him to a little word vomit. No, that happened from time to time. So she simply smiled at him and nodded. “Nice to meet you Grell. I don’t often get to talk to cubs around my age.” She couldn’t be too much older, no, she was a good many moons, and sure she was just about full grown and ready to set out into the world fully on her own without a pack, but she was still quite the puppy in manners, and even in her size. She wasn’t the largest wolf. In fact she was quite small and dainty, not a feature she got from her father.

“No, no, I do believe that this is one of a tale. It has to be, nothing could be quite so beautiful if it wasn’t… It’s in… A tale about Sitka. Yes, for you see this was made from her tears long ago when Fenris scorned her. Saddened by how he disliked her so, she came here and she cried. She cried until she could no longer form a tear and her beautiful sorrow created this waterfall.” Linnaea decided right there that this would be the famous story. After all, everyone knew that Sitka was scorned by Fenris because Tor loved her so much. And Fenris was prone to jealousy in his stories. Little Linn glanced to her new friend Grell, as if to check and see if he agreed that they had reached such an amazing and famous landmark.

[Grell]

Grell shrugged. Personally, he wouldn't want to end up clutched in some thing's teeth just because no one had told him about it. He rather liked having the world explained to him, bit by bit, so long as he avoided leaving the world prematurely. But he kept the thought to himself. After all, it was inevitable that he would eventually run into something - or someone, for that matter - who didn't like him, and his only hope was that he would have enough intelligence and strength to either repel or overcome that obstacle, or that he would still have enough wits about him to turn around and run away. He cast a yellow, side-long glance at Linnaea, and wondered what she would do when she came face to face with something dangerous. Probably fight it, he concluded without much thought. Like a true warrior. She doesn't seem to have much in the way of cowardice. Believe it or not, Grell wasn't sure whether he was happy with that resolution. After all, cowardice was an important component to survival. All heroes seemed to die at a young age. Take Larka, for example...

He spun his ears in her direction while he turned to look at the waterfall. It was strange to think she didn't speak to anyone else her own age. Did she have no brothers and sisters? Or was he the first one she had met that paralleled her in age? She wasn't shy, at least not that he could tell. Ah well. It was her life, and he led his wandering mind away from potentially sensitive thoughts.

That simply meant he could resume thinking about the waterfall and tales concerning it. He looked back at Linnaea, who spoke as though she knew a story existed, but couldn't remember the way it went. He cocked his head and waited for her to blunder through, until she had scrambled together enough details to explain the tale - of course, without much dramatic emphasis on theatrics, but Grell didn't mind. He smiled when she mentioned Fenris. Yes, that sounded like the god. Jealous as a scorned Drappa. Speaking of which: "That's a lot of tears," he mumbled thoughtfully, more to himself than Linn. It was, to say the least, difficult to comprehend that a Varg could cry so much. But, then again, she was favored by Tor, wasn't she? "It should have a name," He said abruptly. "Something sad but pretty and lost long ago... It's probably mentioned in the story," he paused, and his eyes glazed over in a far-away look. "Maybe Deer - no, De-air... no, no, that's not right... Deirdre! Deirdre Cascades, or something like that," he looked at Linnaea with a twinkle in his eye that said he agreed that they had discovered something marvelous. "I think it means 'broken-hearted' or something."

[linnaea]

Ha! Warrior, that’s what he thought. The idea would’ve been preposterous if he really knew her. If truly in danger, really truly outmatched (which would be the most likely choice in a given situation) she would flee for her life. Sure, this time she’d taken a chance, decided to got and meet the mysterious Varg in the mist, but there’s equally as much chance that she could’ve avoided him. She took the chance, drawn by curiosity, which wasn’t always prevalent in her being when it came to characters who were unknown. In information, yes, she was always willing to learn more about the things she didn’t know. Perhaps that was partially why she talked to him, the waterfall had been unknown until they had spoken a little, and they’d now even orchestrated a story to go along with it.
She could almost hardly contain the glee she felt at having made a new friend. She wondered if that was how one made friends. Making up stories with them. Or maybe he didn’t think she was his friend yet, maybe she had to ask if he wanted to be a friend first. Goodness it was a long and drawn out process that she was surely unfamiliar with. Everyone in Deor was her family, there was no ills between them, but no friends to be made either. But out here, even a friend could be an enemy.

“Indeed, a lot of tears. But Fenris really hurt her feelings, I don’t think he ever told her why he disliked her so, so I don’t think she knew the reasons for why he was so cruel to her. I mean, you’d be hurt too if you didn’t know why someone was so mean, wouldn’t you? I would…” she thought about how she was generally over looked in Deor, alienated, and alone. It made her sympathetic of the scorned Sitka for she didn’t know why they did that either. Maybe it was because she didn’t try to put herself out there. But she didn’t know how. Arous would’ve helped her, he was more active and more charismatic. She wished that she’d gotten some of that too, but she was quiet and antisocial most of the time. Rare cases like this, when she was lonely and curious, she would converse with others. Rare occasions, but they were treasured ones.

“Yes, Sitka should be honored with a name for this glorious land mark.” Linnaea agreed, nodding her head and grinning as he began to form a name in his mind. She waited anxiously, leaning towards him slightly until he came up with one. Deirdre. “That’s perfect. Broken Hearted… Deirdre Falls… or Cascades. I don’t know they both seem to fit.” Her thick plume wagged furiously behind her. She couldn’t help it, she couldn’t hold back any of the happiness that seemed to overflow from inside her. But she also couldn’t help but wonder. “Grell….? Does this mean we’re friends?” If this was the case he would be her second best friend, second only because she met Kop first.

[Grell]

He nodded, but being so cheerful at the moment made it difficult to comprehend how much pain Sitka - or himself, if he were ever in that position - felt when she was ignored and scorned by Fenris. Or, maybe ignored wasn't the right word. Fenris ignored Grell all the time. Sometimes, he felt like he was chatting with himself whenever he tried to kick up a conversation with the god. So far, Fenris hadn't replied to anything Grell had said. He wondered, briefly, if Fenris found him boring. Me, boring? Perish the thought. Could never happen, he mused with the sour assuredness of one who had recently been dealt an unfair amount of unfortunate events by life. Even now, Grell was once again thinking back on that little bear-fish escapade. Anyone who had seen him that day would have been privy to the little known fact that Grell suffered anything but mundane and boring adventures. Even from his throne so high up, Grell was certain that Fenris must have spied his little rump moving blur-like away from a half-blind, much-bemused bear as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

Grell shook his head. Best to leave the past where it belonged, and hope for a quieter future.

"I like Dierdre Falls better than Cascades, actually," he said with a thoughtful nod. "Its easier to say and remember... and Cascades does sound a bit overblown... You're right. It was definitely Dierdre Falls." He gave her a knowing wink and wagged his tail back - though it did feel a bit gritty as it swept over the damp clods of dirt it rested on. "Friends?" he asked, with a bit of surprise. After all, he hadn't ever asked to be friends with someone. It sort of just... happened. Maybe that's why Fenris hasn't said a lick to me, he thought, cocking his head. He had never asked Fenris to be his friend. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I think it does. Friends till the end!" That last bit made him feel prouder than ever, though it was actually something he had heard his sister, Tsara, say once to a beetle shortly before she ate it. With a bit of a frown, he hoped that wasn't to be the fate of his new best friend. Nah. If she was every bit as courageous as he figured her for, she would end up fighting and dying valiantly in a cave against a hideous monster, and songs would be sung about her, and her name would retire gratefully into history and legend - just as Grell hoped not to do all those things. But he was just as proud to be a friend of a to-be hero just the same.

He stood and stretched. A delighted smile was spread across his face and he felt as happy as when his mother used to lick him on the belly - though he would never admit it of course. Wolves simply did not get their bellies licked by their mothers. But all the same - he was pleased, and he tottered off a step or two to the side of the lake, where he leaned down and took a long drink of cool water. It felt good as it slid down his throat, but his mind was elsewhere, sorting through what it meant now that he and Linnaea were friends. Did that mean he could share his secrets with her? Not all of them, of course; his old storyteller, Brek, had warned him of ever doing that. But it wouldn't hurt to tell her a few things others didn't know right? And could they swap stories, eat from the same kill, and take on small adventures with one another? Could he count on her to back him up, and would he do the same? Grell finished his drink, and sincerely hoped that being friends meant that he wouldn't be so alone as often as he was. Even if she had a family elsewhere, he would be allowed to visit, right? "You know," he said to Linn. "Fenris must have had a plan for all this. I mean, if he hadn't have scorned her, she wouldn't have made Dierdre Falls, and neither of us would have heard the sound and met here." Maybe Fenris had helped her cry so many tears, not Tor. "It's a story that spans ages," he growled thoughtfully, with a revelation of the more mature; what other events - large, or small - would be influenced by these falls?

\\I'm so sorry about how long this took. I had half of it written up before I got distracted with other things//

[linnaea]

// I’m really sorry I didn’t reply. College gets busy around Midterms but I have lots of spare time to answer now so I’ll be sure to keep it moving along. Forgive me!! D: //

“Forever and ever!” Linnaea agreed, hopping a few times before she slid into a bow, grinning as her plume swayed above her in the manner of a banner. Her black-tipped audits were pricked forward intently, she was glad to have another friend. Her second of all those in the whole entire world. It was an exciting moment and one that she promised to never forget. Just as she’d said. Friends forever and ever. Just as any pup would say brash things, so did she, even if she was older than most cubs - she didn’t much act it. Taking the chance to be a pup in these times was just as good as before when she wandered about sadly, moping at the loss of her mother and the lack of friendliness within her pack. It’s like she was a backwards bastard… what would you call a young girl who’d lost her mother?

Shaking that thought aside she locked her attention on Grell, sitting up again and listening attentively. “Do you really think that the Gods plan that much in advanced?” Though she wasn’t really taught any of the religious drivel that most Varg stuck to - she was rather cynical when it came to such things - it was an interesting thought. Could he have planned for Linnaea and Grell to meet? Knowing that the two both felt so alone in the Lands Beyond the Forest? Could he really even care about such things? Maybe this was just his way of showing anger at Sitka… Showing her that other wolves would find joy in her sorrow. Maybe he was just sadistic. Most stories did say that he was a bit of a difficult one… that he didn’t like a lot of things and thus he shunned most of them. In fact Linn could only remember him loving Tor. He loved her so much, and yet he could never be beside her during any hour of the day or night. Sometimes during Fall or Spring he caught glimpses as he came to watch the world and she went to rest, and sometimes he got to see her rise as he moved to fall. But Tor… well she was loving and caring, she loved all Varg - be they big or small even male or female.
“Maybe that was more Tor’s plan… she wanted to make some good out of the cruelty that Fenris bestowed… so Tor made the sound of these falls in hopes to lure Varg here and take in the magic of it. To make Sitka feel better about how terrible she felt, to help her bestow the joy that she had been stripped of with others. Maybe seeing how alone we both were the two Gods then decided to lead us here. To plant thoughts into our minds that would bring us to this same location at the same time.” It was indeed a complicated thought, showing her more adult half.

[Grell]

He shrugged. If the gods were all-knowing, he figured that included even little meetings between little wolves. Whether they cared or not, was another thought entirely. Although he had some of the utmost respect - and deep-seated annoyance for, if he was honest - for Fenris, he doubted the sun god felt remotely the same; except, perhaps, for being annoyed. Grell wondered if his whole existence annoyed the god. Probably... All-mighty Fenris watches over me...

And laughs.

"Tor?" he asked, a bit surprised. "Huh, maybe." Grell grunted grudgingly. He looked up to the falls, cocking his head thoughtfully as Linn explained. He had to admit that it made sense in their story, but he wasn't sure that he liked acknowledging that the Drappa goddess had been responsible for something so grand. He knew the goddess had put her paw in on some of the earth's creations, but he had figured her for things like butterflies and flowers, which were easy on the eyes but relatively useless - unless you were trying to get stung by a bumblebee in a field of wildflowers during the spring. Of course, she did make the moon. And he had to admit that, besides being pretty, the moon did offer him some light and comfort through those first long, dark nights without his parents - and ever after, when he was feeling more than a bit lonely all by himself. He twisted his lips and tried not to look too stumped. What came out on his face was something between not-convinced and excited about this new theory. He played it off by sitting down, and giving Linnaea the benefit of the doubt. "Yeah, prolly. Though, if I were Sitka, I don't think I would be interested in who came to see my tears. I'd be more interested in getting back at Fenris somehow... You know, though, I don't think she ever did. Sitka was too nice for that, I think.

"Maybe Tor, though," he said musingly, coming back full circle to the she-wolf goddess. A small smirk began to show, and there was a mirthful glitter in his eyes. "I think she might want some sort of justice for her daughter, wouldn't you think? Something to make Fenris feel sorry for what he did?" Grell stood and took a few steps toward the falls, looking back at Linnaea. "But not a good talking to. I'm not sure Fenris would listen to that. Something better. Something that the Varg would know, if they remembered the story about Dierdre Falls. Something funny, to us, anyway. I'm not sure Fenris was amused."

\\ it's cool, yo :) //

[linnaea]

“Yeah, Sitka would never do something like that. Definitely too nice.” Linnaea agreed with a nod. She was described to be a kindhearted individual. How could she ever do something as cruel as revenge? It just wasn’t in her character. Linn supposed that Larka was like that too. Kindhearted, not wishing to bring harm to others. Fell wasn’t. He could get revenge if he wanted, he was brave and courageous - as well as a little brash. But these were Varg of legend. Who could be sure if they’d really done anything at all? Perhaps they had existed once and done some great deed, but really where were they now? Most likely dead. That’s how all legends ended up - martyrs to a cause. But then Linnaea laughed.

“So Tor scolded him by making this into such a beautiful place, making Sitka more adored just to annoy him? That certainly sounds a little like her. She would want to cleverly hide such things so that they weren’t up there on the surface.” Linnaea pondered this thought, it was rather funny. Fenris being reprimanded with this waterfall… Deirdre Falls as they had decided to call it - cause it needed a name. She laughed again. “I can imagine the look on his face when he grudgingly realized that.”

But the story was now told. And Linnaea didn’t know where to go from here. What does one do with a friend? With her other friend, Kop, she had gone hunting. But what do you do with one who is about your age. Do you play? Do you talk more? What? “Grell, what do pups usually do for fun?” She inquired, giving him a sideways look as she cocked her head and flexed her ears in his direction. She had a confused and yet curious look on her face.
Having never really had much interaction with those her age she would often find lounging around alone a fitting pastime, sometimes even just wandering about the pack when she’d been too young to leave it’s borders. But now, now that she was older she found that she wanted to go out, explore Transylvania, and make friends. Be a pup like she never really got to be before. It was her way of getting back the time she’d lost by doing nothing.

[Grell]

Grell laughed right alongside her, flopping his tail back and forth with mirthful glee. She was right, of course. Something subtle was definitely Tor's way of doing things, and Grell could only imagine the grumpy face Fenris had had the day he discovered what Tor had done to his beautiful trophy of Sitka's sorrow. No doubt those had been some long, cold, rainy days. Fenris was also notorious for showing his emotions, and catching mortal wolves in the crossfire of his anger, jealousy, or -- well, Grell had never known Fenris to be sorrowful, and as he finished laughing, he wondered if the sight of the sun god being sad would be more satisfying than seeing him trumped by his mate. Maybe, he thought with some mischief, and glancing back up toward the pearly white smudge in the sky where Fenris was hiding. Hopefully the neglectful wolf god was too busy being conceited to notice a duo of two youngsters discussing perhaps one of Fenris' more embarrassing moments in history -- even if it was just make-believe.

"I'll bet it was a good one, very much worth the week of rain or snow afterward," Grell chuckled in agreement, looking back at Linn. He tipped his ears. "For fun?" He thought for a moment, wondering if Linn wasn't having fun, and what he could do to solve that. Storytelling was getting a little overdone, he supposed. "Maybe we could explore the falls," he said slowly. Though he would gauge her reaction, he was pretty sure that a spunky drappa like herself wasn't going to object to any adventure, no matter how small. "I think there was a small alcove in the cliff before Sitka's tears began to fall, and I think the story mentioned that it was turned into something beautiful afterward, because, when Dierdre Falls was made, it was hidden." Gathering momentum with the story, a small grin began to plump his cheeks against his will. The puppy fat around his jowls and face still made him look pudgy when he grinned, but that couldn't be helped. "And after she finished crying, Tor directed Sitka to the cave to find shelter and rest before setting off on the rest of her journey!" Even if there were no cave behind the falls, this was the perfect excuse to go looking. Grell wagged his tail and stretched, excited to be off. He brushed up against Linn's shoulder playfully, then trotted away onto a forest path that skirted the lake's shore, headed toward the falls. He stopped a few feet away and peered back into the mist to make sure Linn was following.

"What do you think's in the cave that makes it so beautiful?" He asked her, a bit of reverence and mischief in his voice while he waited for her to catch up before they padded off to the base of the falls.

\\ just thought i'd stir up the thread a bit :) //

[linnaea]

“Explore? I love to explore! That’s why I’m out of my pack right now!” Linnaea pricked her ears up and her tail wagged behind her - faster than before. She was excited. Exploration and discovery were two of her favorite pass times. She had no idea that you could do both things with friends! She’d also never really had a friend. “It must’ve been hidden for good reason. Maybe Lera were trying to steal the beauty inside.” She offered helpfully, something to add to their tale. She fancied that storyteller must be fun work. To have such a job in a pack would be wonderful! Teaching lessons, entertaining, it sounded like a bunch of fun.

She gigged at his grin, it was cute she couldn’t help it, but she managed to hide the reason and made it seem like she was simply giddy with enthusiasm. She pranced forward until she was closer and lowered into a playful bow after he nudged her and galloped after him, following easily with her slender legs. “But we shall have to be careful when exploring. The rock will most likely be wet and slick… and well… you know the stories about death by water I trust. I don’t think I’d want to drown so soon in my life either.” It was a common Varg fear, shared by most. She didn’t like the thought that she might be lost forever, a wandering specter of the waterfall.

At Grell’s next question she had to think about it. “Perhaps there’s a treasure… maybe there’s sparkly things in the walls of the cave or maybe special cave flowers that only bloom at a certain time… maybe there’s even a guard that makes sure they stay safe. Something that only lets the most worthy see the beauty.” A thoughtful expression crossed her face as she pondered such a thing. A monster that was the protector of a helpless flower. It was a very romantic thought, a sort of ‘beauty and the beast’ theme that slithered into her mind. But whatever was hidden, it must’ve been hidden for good reason.

[Grell]

Grell stopped short suddenly and looked at Linnaea. He hadn't thought of that. "A guard?" he squeaked. After all, what good would a hidden cave full of treasure be if something wasn't there to guard it? Something undoubtedly magical, immortal, and with big teeth. He cursed himself for not thinking through this little adventure, and now found himself trying to find a way out of it. Especially once Linnaea mentioned being 'worthy' of entering the cave. You've been worthy of less in your life, he thought sullenly to himself, and then he suddenly glanced to the sky where Fenris still blazed fitfully behind the curtain of cloud. It's never that easy, is it? There are monsters to face, and warriors and dragons, and... ugh. I hate you. He tried to smile when he turned back around to Linn, but somehow the only thing that came to his face was a weak and sickly looking grin. He hoped she didn't notice. "Uh, right, the most worthy.

"Have any backup plans just in case that... guardian happens to not find us very worthy?" he asked, springing forward to catch up. To his credit, he sounded rather calm -- even while he rapidly grew a keen desire for companionship, afraid to be left alone in the fog. "You know, just because it might not even take the time to, uh, get to know us and whatnot. It may just decide to eat us, or something nasty like that." Then again, it might just send us on a quest to find out if we're worthy... Probably one that's dangerous. He glanced briefly back at Fenris. Alright, definitely one that's dangerous. Maybe getting eaten first isn't the worst outcome then. Grell puffed out his cheeks. Why did adventures always require some sort of difficult or evil obstacle to overcome? Even the little ones? He didn't think it very fair, but decided not to tempt Fenris by saying so. All that god needed was another excuse to end Grell's already miserable existence. "It might think we're trying to steal whatever beautiful thing is inside."

But that just brought him back to the curious question of exactly what treasures awaited them inside. Though he would gladly give up everything for the chance to keep breathing -- especially to keep breathing -- his thoughts did linger somewhat greedily on the mysteries that lurked in the cavern he and Linnaea were about to find. "Like that flower..." he mused. "It might think we're trying to steal the magic from that flower, or whatever things are there. You know, the stuff that the gods left behind when they hid the cave."

\\ whoo, i'm back :] //