5/2/2025, 8:03 PM
roughly eight months
The Black Spear had been on some of his best behavior. He had not wandered too far. He had not picked any fights with his siblings (any that THEY picked, whether it was because he'd provoked them or not...was a different story), and he had not overtly insulted any of the foreigners they'd stopped to visit with. Sverke was of mixed opinion about the groups they'd stopped off at. They seemed like a boringly peaceful sort, both of them, but Sverke was being introduced to outsider customs and new faces in droves he was unused to, and that was incredibly exciting no matter who it was he was meeting.
The important part was that he hadn't mouthed off to the Queen or Matriarch or whatever of this festival yet. Unfortunately, the festival had split up the caravan - the adults were off socializing, enjoying a much-needed reprieve from making sure none of their progeny wandered into a bear den. He didn't know where his siblings were, but he knew they were around, which was enough to settle the possessive instinct in his gut that urged him to protect what was his.
He'd seen some wolves with flower crowns, which he actually found rather charming, but the boy did not have one. He'd found the source: a raccoon, pale and weaving the flower crowns with odd little deft paws. Sverke had taken one look at that situation and found something else to distract him, because the raccoon's petite stature and twitchy movements set the hunter within the boy fully alert and dangerously interested.
Food would probably be a good distraction, and he was hoping the Avon wolves had something exotic to taste-test that differed from the island's hardy collection of various fruits, plants and meats. The midnight prince sauntered toward the carefully arranged feast, tail swinging confidently at his hips and head held high. He was a prince. He was a goddess' son.
He was sun-eater, greedy one, advent of the end, world-breaker - incandescent and altogether awe-inspiring, and carried himself as such. The feast was an impressive collection; bursting with color and smell that made Sverke's mouth water. He couldn't help his plumy tail swaying loosely as he approached, before a smaller figure hovering near the fruits caught his eye. He stepped closer, remembering his manners - he could be charming when he wanted to be.
Are there any berries left -
Her face. It looked like a crime scene. Sverke's two-toned eyes widened.
Did you eat them all??
