「 Skill Point ― Scout 」
Skjoldrheim road trip, featuring art by Cy
Backdated so they have time to get to the Avon festival.

He'd been awake for hours, simply trying to herd his brood across the bank and onto the mainland. On his back, he carried an offering, a gift for the leaders of Elysium. It was an enormous rack of antlers, skull still attached, of course, but the meat had been picked clean by the scavengers of the night. The antlers would sometimes snag on the uneven ground, but it was no more than a mild annoyance. This had been one of their prized deer on the island, a stag who had passed from natural causes months before. In this case, it was before these fine antlers could be shed.

It would make for a fine mantle, to be decorated by the equally religious leaders, no doubt.

Once more did they snag on the ground, but this time Tyr took the moment to survey his group of enthusiastic teenagers and more mentally sane additions. They were all accounted for, and while the journey would take them a couple of days, it was well worth the journey if it meant getting out and seeing the sights. It was his brood's first venture out of the confines of the island after all, right?

The god turned his head away, looking to the lands around them. Evergreen trees shedding their winter coats, snow still littering the floor in its icy heaps where the sun did not shine, and the sound of rapids off in the distance. A far enough distance from those who might be too eager to take a dip, thankfully. No danger seemed to be nearby, and the smell of bears and other wandering predators was put at bay by the large group of wolves undoubtedly. It also meant that prey was often far off, only the songs of birds remaining in the canopies.

They'd been walking for hours already, and it felt like the terrain was never going to come to an end. Perhaps while nothing was happening, it would be a good time for a rest. With one final look around them, Tyr made the call.

Take a break. If you go off wandering, take someone with you. If you're not back in 30 minutes, we're leaving you behind. He voice was stern, but he didn't mean it, right?

Skill: Seer 1/5

Maja is the Good One. She knows this, from what she knows of the other teenagers in the pack. She's good, quiet, capable. She builds her identity out of this, because what else is there to build? So much burned away in the fire, including memories. She's left with Being Good or Being Hateful. And the anger that lives beneath the surface, threatening to come out at the worst times, is frightening.

So she buries it beneath the ashes and decides to be Good.

She's on the fringes of the group, ready to walk. Travel is good, she thinks, and yet she cannot shake the visions in her head. The dream came again last night. Now it hangs in her head. Occasionally she glances down at her paws and expects to see bones. When she sees only flesh and fur, she shakes her head and pushes the thoughts away.

This will be an uneventful journey, she tells herself.

---

roughly eight months

The Midnight Prince pricked his ears as his father spoke, halting the Skjoldrheim with only a few decrees barked out firmly. Sverke was thoroughly enjoying the trip; the new sights, scents and sounds a thrilling blend of novelty that had not at all yet lost its shine for him. The juvenile's lanky frame found the pace of the little caravan to be good for settling some of his restlessness, but he had energy to spare and much of that energy went into managing his many impulses and annoyances that begged to be unleashed, in such close quarters with the other wolves.

He hadn't quite given up an inner desire to take a chunk out of Sindri's rear as recompense for worrying them all, breaking the rules (as if he didn't do the same) and worse than all of it combined: stealing Tyr away for what seemed to him to be a fun solo trip with Father. However, the boy was hoping to be granted the honor of scouting ahead of the caravan at some point, if he could only telepathically communicate that to his Father - asking for it would be embarrassing.

Still, for now, he was freed to upend the surrounding undisturbed nature with his whirlwind energy. He slid a glance Asgeir's way, placidly assumed this to be enough to rope his twin into his orbit, and immediately slipped into the trees almost before his father had ceased speaking. Sverke had shit to do - dirt to sniff, leaves to chew on, siblings to try to jump-scare while they were looking for a shaded place to piss.

---

Tyr was in charge of the caravan. So the kids were Tyr's problem. It wasn't like Cupid could realistically corral or keep an eye on them (although he did do a head-count via scent and sound every so often, because he was their father - or for some, at least one of the responsible adults around). He was having a difficult enough time with the unfamiliar terrain, the wings perched on his shoulder and cooing with concern as he picked his way carefully through the snow and forests. It helped to have other wolves to more or less blaze the trail, but Cupid realized very quickly he'd been a bit spoiled on the isle - where he'd quickly memorized most of the paths he'd need to get just about wherever he desired.

So, in all, he was not really paying attention. He was rather zoned out, focusing on his own steps, and following the flow of the flock. The task of wrangling all those (intentionally raised to be, if he was honest) teens fell to Tyr.

Cupid was having a vacation. The call to halt came eventually, and he gracefully allowed his haunches to sink to the forest floor. The fallen god lifted his chin, staring into the trees and listening to the distant birdsong and sounds of the wind through the trees. Ah. Peaceful.

✦✦✦

The wolf family was going on a trip, and horrifyingly, Bragi was included.

A part of her had suspected for a while that she'd have to leave the island for the first time one day, just like she had to leave the den, as her body got older and the others grew restless. She ignored it for as long as she possibly could. She stayed put while her litter siblings strayed, she remained demure and mindful and unassuming while they became bold and boisterous for adventure. Maybe they'd leave her behind, she prayed. Maybe they'd forget she was even there.

Her first steps onto the unfamiliar strand were with trembling legs and the look of death in her smoldering amber eyes.

The light returned to them only when Tyr stopped to address the convoy, her gaze drawn by the immediate rush of movement from Sverke and his sidelong glance toward his golden counterpart as he disappeared amongst the trees. She found herself stealing a glance toward Astrid, remembering their prior altercation, and resolving to be a good, responsible adult about it and keep an eye on them rather than do what she really wanted for the next half an hour which was fall deeply and inextricably into a cavernous pit of despair within herself at the sobering realization that she was going to a rager hosted by a bunch of sentient dogs.

She took a deep breath in through her nose and let it whistle out from between clenched teeth as her attention skipped sporadically over the assembled wolves. There was one, a girl — presumably unrelated to her? Half-sibling or otherwise — quietly clinging to the edges, who'd nocked an arrow of jealousy and loosed it straight and true into Bragi's heart with how serene and utterly unbothered she seemed. She entertained, only briefly, the idea of going to settle nearby, but Bragi knew her only in passing and the thought of trying to strike up small talk with a stranger was a fate she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy.

Instead her eyes found Cupid, equally quiet, equally serene, and — most importantly — familiar. She inched closer on soft and cautious paws, her body coiled like a spring one stray, solitary breath away from snapping, and sat beside him; not quite touching, but close enough.

✦✦✦

Sindri was on her best behavior. She couldn't even believe she was alive, let alone allowed off the island again, and she was intent to show her Father(s) she was capable of behaving. The fledgling (whom she was debating calling Erebus, Thanatos or Oneiroi, but still had no name) seemed fairly happy with his life nestled within her fur, and while Sindri hoped the Wings could guide him as well in things more birdly than the Cupiddottir was knowledgeable, she was enjoying tending to the little creature. It wasn't her first time patching up some small critter and offering it some food, but it was the first to really seem to trust her, to like her.
Well, she hadn't hurt this one. Sin had certainly hurt her fair share in the attempt to hone her hunting skills and brought them home to nurture for a second chance, and even so none had enjoyed her company. Perhaps the fledgling owlet was simply glad to have a loving family, even of carnivores; but Sindri had been introducing him to everyone she saw, letting them know that the beautiful bird was her companion, her friend, that she loved him as much as her siblings or herself.

His glossy dark grey feathers that glowed purple in the sunlight, his rusty face, his vocal and cheery disposition should all be easy enough to remember, she thought every time she looked at him.... but maybe she was biased.

Leaving the island with everyone, she found, was much more slow... but also much more fun. She had no problems staying in eyeshot of the adults, and often chattered aloud -- not only for Cupid's benefit, but out of sheer joy. The young girl pointed out pretty birds and brought her Papa pretty flowers, bounced around from new scent to new scent when she could, called for her littermates to come see! more times than perhaps they were interested in. At least, it could be said, that while her voice was a constant noise in the background, she was not loud or insistent or screechy, just... enthusiastic. If left ignored, she just kept on talking. She mainly focused on walking ahead of Cupid and flicking things like branches or stones out of the immediate way, as much as she'd like to be roving off to the sides and exploring. When Tyr called for a stop, she glanced back to see Bragi heading towards their pale Father; surely, she wouldn't let him trip over anything if she wanted to sniff around just a little bit?

The charcoal eyed girl stared after Sverke's quick escape, debating following... but she'd never been one to force herself upon the other teenagers, not like she bothered her own littermates. So she steered herself the other way, trotting to and fro from tree to tree as the owlet peeped contentedly and plucked gently at the nape of her neck. She wasn't sure if he was excited too, nesting down for the morning, or telling her to slow down, but she enjoyed the way it felt like he was grooming her. Maybe that's all it was, preening?

She slowed her pace, but strutted about the immediate area with her head to the ground and her tail to the sky.