[Sven?!]

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AN: The beginning of this awakening thread is in reference to this thread. It is meant to be a flashback to April, with a deliberate leap in time moving Ujurak to the present. The events that passed in between are unknown to him.

Joining thread for this fellow btw, all Camhanaich members welcome. Please feel no obligation to match this text wall, I just like exposition for my awakening threads lol.

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Cricket song and river bugs conducted their symphony over the melody of running water. Rivers whispered to each other from their beds, tucked in with mossy stones and sheltered from the moonlight by forest eaves. Amidst the damp air, the fragrance of spring blooms was heady. Weaving through the forest trees in harmony with the fresh water and waving reeds. A beautiful forest, and a lovely place to rest, but this was not his home.

Along one of the many rivers of the Lost Creek Hollow, two young men bedded down for the night. The scent upon their fur clashed with the forest. Iron was heavy in the air, masked by pungent herbs and stinking mud. Through the darkness, Ujurak watched rise and fall of his brother's flank. The moonlight danced in waves across his darkling brother's fur. Across his brother's chest, leaves and reeds were plastered beneath a layer of mud. A crude wrap to hold together a deeply scored wound within Sven's flesh. It was all Ujurak could manage on the short notice, and it wounded him greatly that he had nothing to give for his brother's pain.

So he watched. Turquoise eyes fixed on the brother he loved so dearly. The brother that always stayed. The brother who forgave him each time he failed.

Yes, he was a failure, wasn't he?

A prince driven from the land that was his birthright. A prince that failed to preserve the community his father so lovingly wove around him. A son who could not protect the graves of his kin.

All of these things wounded Ujurak. They pulled at the threads knitting his heart together, and burned more fiercely than the wounds upon his own body. Many of the lacerations he carried were shallow, but a deep gouge had been driven into his shoulder. More concerning, the left half of his face burned around a laceration beneath his eye. The swelling kept his left eye closed, the radiating heat felt through the delicate skin of his eyelids. He could only be grateful that his attacker's fang missed the globe. With the injury in its current state, he had a chance at retaining the sight in his eye.

First, he would have to heal.

Ujurak allowed both eyes to close. The sounds of the Hollow grew in volume, the insect song and river water louder with the absence of visual stimulus. Through this drone, Ujurak focused on one sound in particular: the steady, soft breath of his brother. Rhythmic and soothing, the stone prince eased against the riverbank. Lulled by his brother's presence, he let his body grown weightless. The heat concentrated on his face was imagined to grow and spread, as though sunlight poured into every recess of his body.

This was another stroke of misfortune for the brothers, but they would weather through it together. As they've always had.

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— —

With the first breath Ujurak took upon waking, ice seized his blood and a violent shudder shook his body.

Eyes snapping open, he immediately shut them, blinded by the cascade of white that overtook that land. His muscles trembled, as though he had taken a plunge into cold water. A shiver that clattered his very bones started, making him unsteady as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

What happened? Why was it so cold? Shouldn't the trees have acted as a windbreak?

Cracking open his eyes, the presence of falling snow startled the stone prince. Lifting his head, he made to survey the surrounded. His heart leapt to his throat to find that his left eye would not open further, unlike his right. Why? He didn't feel the swelling anymore. In fact, none of his injuries retained their heat, but it did not mean the absence of pain.

It was the worse in his face. Winter's breath had flooded into his cheek, chilling the bone. Cold fangs settled in the space behind his eye. Frost kissed his shoulder and wound down his leg. Leaning over, Ujurak made to touch the injury with his nose, only to find knitted flesh.

No... No, that couldn't be right.

And yet it was. Only a scar remained exposed on his shoulder. The skin healed and pale, nearly white.  Not even a trace of mud or herbs lingered in his fur. His heart could only sink into his stomach.

Something was wrong. This was wrong.

Sven? The stone prince's voice rose into the air with the cautious of one testing ice.

Climbing to his feet with the grace of a newborn fawn, Ujurak finally turned his gaze to the environment. Heart plummeting to find that the trees of a hollow all had vanished. Replaced with wide, snow swept moorland. Snow fell from dark clouds that loomed low to the earth. In the distant haze, shadowy spires stood tall.

Had he returned to the Stone Circle? No, that was impossible. This he knew as true even as he staggered through the snow drifts. Ploughing his way over to the nearest standing stone. Scouring the granite face, Ujurak could only recoil to find that it was a stone not known to him. His stomach pitched and bile rose in his throat as his gaze now cast wildly across the horizon. Stones stood tall, but they did not stand in communion as those of his home had. Their shapes, silhouettes, and faces all wrong and foreign.

These were not his stones. He was not in the valley.

Rising panic flooded his senses, his voice pitching into the howling wind.

Sven?! He had to find his brother.

Like many recent mornings, Kirain woke at dawn, wound in the warmth of her husband and children. Laying still, listening to them all breathe peacefully, a small smile found her maw. Eventually, she untangled herself, kissing her mate softly and murmuring that she would return.

Steeling herself, Kirain stepped out into the dreary weather. Snow continued to fall, the wind biting at everything that dared breathe. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath, the crisp air sharp and invigorating. Pushing forward through the snow, she wandered the Rise, checking each of the four wards, reestablishing borders, and ensuring pack members were well. It was steady, familiar work, a balm for her worried heart.

Her pace slowed as she neared the standing stones. She often came here to stand among them, to speak quietly to the spirits of the Rise. Typically, she was greeted only by the whistling wind and the crunch of snow beneath her paws.

So when a name carried on the wind, she startled.

Sven?

It was not a name she recognized. Her heart ached at the realization, another lost soul among them. Turning quickly, she hurried toward the sound, until she finally caught sight of its source. He looked deeply distressed, lost in more ways than one, and Kirain braced herself for what she knew would be a difficult conversation.

Carefully stepping closer, she called out softly, Hello? Are you alright? Are you lost? Her voice remained gentle, the questions measured, she didn’t want to overwhelm him.

— —

The wind twisted and churned, stealing his voice and whisking it away. The stone prince's ears cupped forward, hoping, waiting, for any response.

Only the wind whistled through the stones.

Swallowing hard, Ujurak breathed deeply. Frigid air flowed into his lungs, and fogged out of his nose when he exhaled. Perhaps Sven was not able to hear him. Maybe his brother had found a place to shelter in this weather. It would have been the sensible thing to do.

Hello? Are you alright? Are you lost?

Distracted by his own thoughts, Ujurak failed to notice the woman's approach. Startled by the sound, Ujurak pivoted where he stood. Left eye still closed, and right eye narrowed to protect against the cruel wind, it took him a couple sweeps of his head to locate the voice's owner. His gaze finally landing upon the small, white wolf, Ujurak blinked slowly.

Oh, halló. (Hello) Do you live here? I am sorry to intrude. Even with his heart hollowed, Ujurak had the sense to be polite. It was how it always has been. I'm afraid I am lost. I am searching for my bróðir (brother). Have you seen a wolf of similar height to me? The night sky patterns his fur.

The distress in his face and form tugged at her heart. Taking a deep breath, she would offer him a soft smile. My name is Kirain. I am one of the leaders of Camhanaich, which is the pack that has laid claim to this place. You are not intruding at all, in fact, the Circle is open to all in need.

Canting her head slightly, she studied him quietly. Bróðir? The word felt odd on her tongue, and it took her a moment to place its meaning. Oh, brother, you mean? she clarified gently. I have been doing my rounds and have not come across any strangers other than you. The only night-touched one I know is Stardust, and she is most certainly not a brother, nor a recent arrival.

Taking another steadying breath, she continued. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you are no longer where you once were. You have been stolen away by this land, Mythris. We don’t know why it does this, but there is no returning. Her ears folded back slightly as she added, It is possible your brother was transported here… but it is also possible he was not.

You are very gracious, Kirain. My thanks to you and... Camhanaich. A language different from his own, it passed his lips at a slow crawl to keep his tongue from twisting the sounds.

Lifting a paw to his face, Ujurak rubbed at his left eye. The cold fire that had been lit in skull burned ruthlessly. Blinking away snow as it swirled, Ujurak kept his gaze on the resident to these stones. His stomach tossing and turning as both relief and dread flooded his senses. The stones he had been born were not defaced and scattered, the stones surrounding them were not his at all. Simultaneously, that meant he was not anywhere close to home.

Kirain denied seeing his brother. He was the only wolf she found this day. Ujurak shut his eyes at this statement, as though he could block out the reality of his brother's absence. The muscle in his jaw tenses and he swallowed down any more helpful descriptions of his dear brother before they could be spoken.

I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this— Ujurak looked once more to the small woman, brows knitting. Had she not already given him the worse news she could? —but you are no longer where you once were.

You have been stolen away by this land, Mythris.

That makes no sense. A land is capable of a great many things, but it does not steal the living as we would pick a berry bush.

The furrow in his brow growing, a small frown settled upon the stone prince's face. A flash of shame burned in his mind as he considered that Kirain might be lying to him, but he couldn't even pretend to find a reason for such a thing. The idea was outlandish. Impossible.

When I first arrived, I felt the same. How does a land transport a soul from one place to another? Kirain murmured softly. My home was the Teekon Wilds, a land vast and filled with so many possibilities. And then one day… I was here. I couldn’t even tell you how it happened. It was such a seamless transition.

Her voice trailed off, silver gaze softening.

I’m sorry. I know it’s so much to take in. That it sounds impossible, she continued gently, but I assure you, it’s the truth. You’re welcome to wander, to explore, but you’ll come to the same conclusion. Her expression dimmed, the words heavy as she spoke them. This is no longer your home.

Heavy words. Even having accepted her fate, having adjusted to Mythris and all its curiosities, she was not immune to the weight of that knowledge.

Listen, Kirain said quietly. You’re welcome to stay here until you come to a decision about what you want to do. You’ll be safe. Warm. Fed. You can take all the time you need to decide what comes next.

It was the best she could offer. There was no soothing a wounded soul with pretty words, only time could heal, could mend.

I was born in the Wilds, and it was where I stood before opening my eyes. That Kirain had lived with the Teekons, it sparked a desperate fire within his eyes. If we have both come from there, then there must be a way to return.

He knew it wasn't fair to cast doubt towards Kirain, to diminish her experience in this strange place. But he could not shake the notion that if these lands were connected, that he could return. It was only logical. He was still alive, his heart still beat within his chest. The druid advocated strongly that there was no returning, but what if a way just hadn't been discovered yet.

This is no longer your home.

I aware that it is not, that is why I must return home.

Ujurak had not been raised to be stubborn, but what did it mean if he did not fight this? What about Sven? His brother was wounded, he need to be there! The Stone Circle, the graves were there. His father, his grandparents. Those lives since passed, those stones he had grown as familiar with as any living wolf, they couldn't be just gone. The thieves! Draugr! They needed to be removed, ripped from the soil before they could place roots. He needed the barrow man's head.

Ujurak needed to get home. The stone prince needed to return.

Several moments passed before he realized that he barely heard Kirain over the blood roaring within his ears. The stone prince stared at her, eyes hot and damp. His jaw was clenched, tongue heavy.

She offered him respite among her home. A place to find what path he would take. He wanted to ignore it, to turn and stride into the storm so he could find the Rising Sun Valley on the other side. His paws remained planted to the ground. Limbs numb and heavy, the freezing air bit at his eyes, ears, nose, and scars. Breathing ice into his body.

What good would it do if he froze to death before he could make a breakthrough?

Eyes pressed shut, Ujurak's head dropped. His voice thick as he worked his jaw, assenting to the woman's offer. Okay...

You’re from the Wilds?! Her surprise was immediate. What part? My husband is from Rising Sun Valley, Swiftcurrent. His name is Lestan Mayfair. Maybe you know him?

Would Lestan be pleased if they did know each other? Neither of them wished to return home, but perhaps a taste of his past would be welcomed.

I won’t try to sway you otherwise, she relented softly. Stardust and Liss are also searching for ways to return. Maybe you could speak with them, see what their experiences have been.

It felt like so little to offer, guilt growing heavier with each passing moment. What would she do in his place? Would she fight for a way back? Would desperation take hold? Kirain didn’t know.

Come. Let’s get you to a den so you can warm up.

Gesturing with her head toward the Goldenwood, she turned and began along the familiar path to the nearest available shelter. She was suddenly very thankful she had cleared out several dens with all the new members she seemed to be collecting. This one wasn’t far, comfortably tucked between tall trees. A small hill rose ahead, a den carved neatly into its base, scattered rocks resting near the entrance.

It wasn’t much, but it was better than the cold.

Here, she said gently. Let me know if it’s not suitable. I’ll do what I can to make you comfortable.