It was bright and early. And that was strategic. The olds liked to be up at the crack of dawn, right?
Clover yawned and inched her front paws forward, going into a deep and satisfying stretch. Two days ago, she had approached the pack’s resident old man with the hope that she could milk a story or two out of him. Unfortunately, for everyone involved, he hadn’t felt well - when he attempted to speak to her, Old Snow’s interactions devolved into a harsh coughing fit. Snow told Clover now wasn’t the “best time” which indicated that there was, indeed, a better (or even good!) time, and she intended to figure out when that was. Today? Today it was just as the sun started to rise over the horizon, coloring the sky in pastel pinks and blues.
Rising from her stretching position, she shook out her coat before happily trotting outside of her den, and the dozens of feet to where Old Snow resided. It was clear almost immediately that he wasn’t awake - or at least, not up - and so she decided to wait.
A few wolves passed her, curious at the new wolf simply hanging out in the den area in the early morning, all alone, but no one spoke to her. They were not unkind, just minding their own business, she presumed.
Soon, though, the elderly wolf awoke.
His yawn could be heard from outside - a high-pitched yelp-type of noise emitting from his maw as his jaws split wide. After doing his own wake-up routine, his arthritic bones and aching muscles moved in a way to carry him outside of his den. He nearly ran into Clover.
“Hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but-”
The shewolf was eager, her tail visibly swishing back and forth at the sight of the black wolf. Old Snow couldn’t help but smile out of the corner of his mouth; he loved being in demand, in this way. And now that the spring had started to call the birds back north, there were other things to do besides listen to an old man tell stories that he knew not many believed. They enjoyed it, clearly, in the dead of winter, but once the warmer moons came around they were markedly less interested in him. It was still early enough in the season that his temperament was still favorable towards others, but as summer drew near that would evaporate quite quickly.
“You’re no bother, dear. What was it you needed?” Clover’s excitement was infectious, and Old Snow could feel his tail wagging a bit in response.
“Oh, ah…” The young shewolf cocked her head at the phrasing. “Well, I don’t need anything, I just…” Hm. How to put it? “You fascinate me. You’ve had the most incredible, far-ranging life and I… I love here. I love being here. But sometimes I regret not going on more adventures. Your stories… they take me away. To far places I’ve never seen. And I just, I don’t know,” she faltered before continuing on, looking up at him. “I just sort of want to be friends, I suppose? I want to know all about you, and your life, and the companions you’ve had, and-”
Old Snow found himself chuckling. “Slow down, slow down,” he begged in jest. “I’m happy to spin you the webs of my days past, but I might ask for a little help in return.”
Clover’s bright eyes lit up (even more than normal), and she nodded her head vigorously. “Of course, anything you need!” It was a bold claim, but she didn’t imagine him to be the nefarious type. Maybe he just needed companionship, or someone to fetch food for him so he didn’t have to leave his den. Little things like that, she imagined. Whatever it was, she wanted to know more about him. She hadn’t met many wolves who claimed to see the edge of Kells, and she was determined to find out all she could, so she was happy to fill her days with fetching this ancient wolf this and that while he warmed up to her.
“Now, are you ready?” It was quick, but he was always happy to play theater for the shewolf for a few minutes. Maybe she’d get bored and walk away, or maybe she’d be rapt and keep coming back. Either way, it was no fur off his coat to entertain her for a bit. She was already sitting, having been waiting for him to wake up, and thus appeared ready to go.
And so he began.
“I was born under a full moon…”
Clover yawned and inched her front paws forward, going into a deep and satisfying stretch. Two days ago, she had approached the pack’s resident old man with the hope that she could milk a story or two out of him. Unfortunately, for everyone involved, he hadn’t felt well - when he attempted to speak to her, Old Snow’s interactions devolved into a harsh coughing fit. Snow told Clover now wasn’t the “best time” which indicated that there was, indeed, a better (or even good!) time, and she intended to figure out when that was. Today? Today it was just as the sun started to rise over the horizon, coloring the sky in pastel pinks and blues.
Rising from her stretching position, she shook out her coat before happily trotting outside of her den, and the dozens of feet to where Old Snow resided. It was clear almost immediately that he wasn’t awake - or at least, not up - and so she decided to wait.
A few wolves passed her, curious at the new wolf simply hanging out in the den area in the early morning, all alone, but no one spoke to her. They were not unkind, just minding their own business, she presumed.
Soon, though, the elderly wolf awoke.
His yawn could be heard from outside - a high-pitched yelp-type of noise emitting from his maw as his jaws split wide. After doing his own wake-up routine, his arthritic bones and aching muscles moved in a way to carry him outside of his den. He nearly ran into Clover.
“Hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but-”
The shewolf was eager, her tail visibly swishing back and forth at the sight of the black wolf. Old Snow couldn’t help but smile out of the corner of his mouth; he loved being in demand, in this way. And now that the spring had started to call the birds back north, there were other things to do besides listen to an old man tell stories that he knew not many believed. They enjoyed it, clearly, in the dead of winter, but once the warmer moons came around they were markedly less interested in him. It was still early enough in the season that his temperament was still favorable towards others, but as summer drew near that would evaporate quite quickly.
“You’re no bother, dear. What was it you needed?” Clover’s excitement was infectious, and Old Snow could feel his tail wagging a bit in response.
“Oh, ah…” The young shewolf cocked her head at the phrasing. “Well, I don’t need anything, I just…” Hm. How to put it? “You fascinate me. You’ve had the most incredible, far-ranging life and I… I love here. I love being here. But sometimes I regret not going on more adventures. Your stories… they take me away. To far places I’ve never seen. And I just, I don’t know,” she faltered before continuing on, looking up at him. “I just sort of want to be friends, I suppose? I want to know all about you, and your life, and the companions you’ve had, and-”
Old Snow found himself chuckling. “Slow down, slow down,” he begged in jest. “I’m happy to spin you the webs of my days past, but I might ask for a little help in return.”
Clover’s bright eyes lit up (even more than normal), and she nodded her head vigorously. “Of course, anything you need!” It was a bold claim, but she didn’t imagine him to be the nefarious type. Maybe he just needed companionship, or someone to fetch food for him so he didn’t have to leave his den. Little things like that, she imagined. Whatever it was, she wanted to know more about him. She hadn’t met many wolves who claimed to see the edge of Kells, and she was determined to find out all she could, so she was happy to fill her days with fetching this ancient wolf this and that while he warmed up to her.
“Now, are you ready?” It was quick, but he was always happy to play theater for the shewolf for a few minutes. Maybe she’d get bored and walk away, or maybe she’d be rapt and keep coming back. Either way, it was no fur off his coat to entertain her for a bit. She was already sitting, having been waiting for him to wake up, and thus appeared ready to go.
And so he began.
“I was born under a full moon…”
(WC: 771)