the helping hand (grenade)
Northfall
Statistics
Fur
Black with dusky cream & burnished gold
Scent
Ginger & lingering smoke
Oddities
Longer tufts of fur at her ankles & pointed ears
Mark of Mythris
Idle motes of light
Bold • Theatrical • Romantic • Eager • The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
8/13/2026, 5:13 PM
(This post was last modified: 8/13/2026, 5:14 PM by Roskva .)
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Weddings were weird.
Something something about the incredible power of love, two souls united for eternity, lots of kissing and hugging and crying, and all Roskva wanted to do was play. She'd spent the duration of the ceremony bouncing in place, eyes wandering from the happy couple and sweeping across the gathered crowd.
There were other kids here! Lots of other kids.
Her eyes dilated.
They'd spent the remainder of the day feasting and mingling with the other attendees, and Roskva was a little confused to see how familiar her mother seemed to be with some of the others here - apparently there was a whole world of history she knew nothing about.
But her gaze kept shifting toward the silhouettes of other children playing on the far side of the gathering.
Evening eventually fell, with Roskva having missed any chance at introducing herself to the pup population until the next morning. She spent the whole night awake, lying on her stomach with her chin pressed to the floor until at last dawn broke and the first rays of light entered the guest den.
With feverish excitement she leapt to her paws and bolted outside.
HELLO? she barked, picking a random direction and trotting ahead. HELLO? I'M ROSKVA! I'M FROM NORTHFALL! WANNA PLAY?
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the helping hand (grenade)
Northfall
Statistics
Fur
Black with dusky cream & burnished gold
Scent
Ginger & lingering smoke
Oddities
Longer tufts of fur at her ankles & pointed ears
Mark of Mythris
Idle motes of light
Bold • Theatrical • Romantic • Eager • The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
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At last.
Someone who matched her energy.
Someone normal!
Finn's entrance might have been a spectacle to anyone else, but to Roskva, it was simply par for the course. Her mouth split into a wide grin, overjoyed in every way to see her Brand New Best Friend as he crashed through the underbrush and slid to a halt only a few yards away. Bits of twigs and leaves stuck out of his fur like some kind of eldritch forest horror, and although she could tell he was younger by a little bit, he sure was big for his age - and sturdy!
HI FINN! she shouted back, unnecessary as it was given their proximity. HI FINN THE BABY! I'M ROSKVA!
... She suddenly paused to think, fretfully calculating whether or not she was also the baby. There was a peculiar silence between them during this moment, and if he tried to speak out, she would lift a paw to shush him while the cogs of her mind slowly but surely came to a very important conclusion.
... M'not the baby, but I AM A VIKING PRINCESS WARRIOR!
That sounded almost as good as being the baby, she thought.
PLAY!
Without waiting, Roskva charged at her Brand New Best Friend with the full intention of trying to knock him down. She needed to assess his sturdiness for future endeavors.
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the helping hand (grenade)
Northfall
Statistics
Fur
Black with dusky cream & burnished gold
Scent
Ginger & lingering smoke
Oddities
Longer tufts of fur at her ankles & pointed ears
Mark of Mythris
Idle motes of light
Bold • Theatrical • Romantic • Eager • The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
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His reaction nearly sent her into the stratosphere. He thought she was cool! Which was great, because she also thought she was cool, but now this only confirmed it!
'Wait until Kvitrafn finds out! Who needs to be the baby when you can be a Viking Princess Warrior!'
Maybe Finn would be lucky enough to grow up into a Viking Princess Warrior, too - he sure had the raw grit and determination of one.
And then they met in the air.
Despite her superior age, height, weight, strength, brains, beauty, and sheer natural talent, Roskva was surprised to find her own footing compromised as she stumbled backwards and landed square on her rump with an 'oof!' . Whatever part of her had taken the brunt of their impact had already settled into a dull, general ache about her person, and the Viking Princess Warrior shook her head to get the stars out of her eyes.
Wow, she said admiringly. Finn the baby was really strong for a - well, a baby!
But as her lips parted to utter this, her opponent had already snaked his head up from his position sprawled on the ground and grabbed hold of her lower jaw in a power maneuver. No one had ever done that before! She just learned a new move!
Gnrraaack - hhhaagghhh - Roskva breathed noisily, trying to unhook her teeth from his. Her mouth was bigger (inherently, even for her age), and as she worked at the motion, her ultimate goal was to encase his entire muzzle within her cavernous cheeks and force-hold the pup into submission.
But man, he was slippery .
And slobbery.
Anyway, Roskva slobbered back and tried to give as good as she got.
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the helping hand (grenade)
Northfall
Statistics
Fur
Black with dusky cream & burnished gold
Scent
Ginger & lingering smoke
Oddities
Longer tufts of fur at her ankles & pointed ears
Mark of Mythris
Idle motes of light
Bold • Theatrical • Romantic • Eager • The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
This post is hidden due to the following trigger warning: You can click to toggle this post:
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NEW BEST FRIEND NEW BEST FRIEND
It was like a scrolling neon sign lit up inside her brain. She was over the moon. The sound of his muffled shouting echoing within the vast chamber of her mouth was akin to an odd buzzing sensation rattling through her skull, and it might have been downright pleasant if not for the buckets of slime oozing down the back of her throat.
Gods, boys were sticky . Why were they always so sticky??
Eventually she'd had enough. Psychologically she was resilient enough to endure the pooling saliva in her esophagus, but physically, she couldn't keep it up. Or, well, down. Literally. Roskva hiccuped, then burped (unfortunate for Finn still trapped inside), and finally made a terrible retching sound as she suddenly withdrew and vomited up a glistening pile of wolf-slobber on the ground next to them.
Had she lost? But he'd been locked in! Had he lost? But no; she'd had to withdraw her hold!
Was this considered a... stalemate?
You're tough, she said admiringly, licking away the residual globs of saliva from her lips. We should do that again sometime! Maybe best out of three?
Roskva was grinning from ear to ear.
You're my new best friend, so you gotta!
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