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 Posted: Sat May 26, 2012 12:14 am
LITTLE THINGS
A story from the tundra-lands, before Wolf Skull too, turned south.
Wolf Skull looked down at the thing with a mixture of disgust and annoyance. Lying under one of the pine trees in his territory was a young Totoma. Barely past her first year, if the length, or rather lack of, horns was any indication.
"What are you doing here?" He grunted, hoped the child would take note of his displeasure and leave.
It didn't.
The little thing's eyes were barely open, but still it managed to nudge the buck's side. The buck grumbled, had half the mind to leave it alone. The child was so cold, and Wolf Skull could feel the small thing shiver as it pressed closer to him.
Totoma did not cuddle, nor did they coddle their young. Within weeks young should be able to fend for themselves, and if they couldn't, well, then they were dead. The tundra was not a forgiving place, only the strong survived. Still, that didn't explain what the young child was doing under a pine tree in his territory.
"Look kiddo," he said, sighing, "just get out and I won't hurt you."
She blinked at him. And then she pushed her face plate into his fur, nuzzled him. It was disturbingly endearing.
"Stop that."
The young doe looked up at him through thick lidded eyes. If he didn't know any better there was a touch of mockery there. Wolf Skull narrowed his gaze, wondered if that would scare the little thing away.
It didn't.
"I said stop that."
Again, the child didn't heed his words. She rested her head against his neck, turned her face inwards and let out a small sigh. To Wolf Skull's ears, it sounded oddly content. A moment passed and he nudged the little thing a little, as if to push her off.
She'd fallen asleep. The buck sighed and shifted slightly, settling comfortably in the snow. He looked towards the mountain where it was snowing. Come the morning, he'd scold her, tell her that most totoma did not take kindly to the intrusion of their territory and that she'd better be on her way before he took insult. But for now, Wolf Skull let her lie against him.
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Posted: Sat Mar 02, 2013 10:09 pm
SKULLS
Skull entry, or Wolf Skull pondering what it means to live in the swamp.
A skull for a skull. Wolf Skull's offering was also a skull. It was one of the skulls that had earned him his name: a wolf skull. Wind and snow had worn it clean and smooth, but the traces of red blood since turned brown, still remained.
"Here, your kin are happy to walk with wolf pups at your heels, but in the North the wolves grow big. They are merciless, and tear at our flesh. Every year, we would lose more children to the sharp fangs of wolves than to the harshest winter."
Wolf Skull thought of Three Nights and her little wolfling. He thought of all the kin he'd met since coming south. He'd been famous, or infamous, for his strength and mercilessness in the North. His was a name spoken with respect, and to some degrees, fear. His name had bought him isolation that he was only starting to realize was hollow compared to the warmth of others.
"But it seems here I have no use of such a thing here. The swamp is kinder than the mountains, and I suppose you would be able to find a better use for this."
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