4/30/2026, 3:51 AM
Never before had someone given him such attention. He was not exactly an outcast with his peers, but nor was he ever particularly the center of attention. The status of his mother weighed heavy, and although her situation was technically not supposed to be looked down upon…the younger ones his age at the time were not always so kind.
But Euphemia! She was kind, and this he knew! It wasn’t just that she gazed at him with amazement, she treated him in a way that made his heart soar like an excited hawk who found an updraft. They exchanged their thoughts and feelings, a back and forth that made him feel heard just as he heard her every word.
See how she so eagerly helped him find a staff? He knew not if staves were even used among her people. He already knew from the stories of other packlands, that it was not a common item. And yet, she moved without a second thought, and together they pulled from the earth the shared staff of their love.
Sure…it wasn’t technically the best staff. It was a little…scraggly. Not very straight. In fact, it is going to be rather hard to use for the purpose of weaving their story in the sky. But he would make due! It was a very special staff, even if it was not the ideal staff!
Her own feet tip-tapped against the ground, in a way he often did, and in fact he copied her with his own excitement. She sat, so beautiful at the coming night, and he might have stood there for a moment long simply gazing at her with his molten eyes.
Yes, he was staring, but it was stare with a beaming pride wanting to burst out of his chest.
He shook his head, then nodding as she encouraged him onward.
He steps forward with staff in mouth, looking up to the stars with eyes wide open. He moves his head in a circular motion, pointing the tip towards the sky as he does so. He points then to a star, humming a tone. He moves to another stay, humming a different tone. He does so multiple times, until the constellation is pointed out. It is that of two figures among a flame, and with that a song was formed with the constellation.
He does it again, but quickly this time. His movements were fluid as the wind brushed against his fluffy fur, their little song filling the air between them. He does it a third time, lifting the staff one last time for a long moment before lowering it to the ground. Now, his mouth was free to tell the story. Still looking towards the sky where the constellation was form, he speaks.
”Let this be known as the tale of Love and Flame. The telling of how this one rose from death, and how Euphemia cleansed him…from Duskbreaker into Adonis! How fate drew them together, and bound them in the fire of their joining. Let their song be carried within their hearts…unending! Let the stars forever hold the weave of their love, a thread never to break!” he exclaimed, his voice for once thundering across the mountainside, becoming more engrossed and enveloped with each word to the end in a glorious echo.
He felt it did it right. He felt he did the tradition just as it should be. But the elders were not here to guide him. His mother was not here to watch him, but he swore he could see her smile in the twinkle of a star near the twilight. A smile tugs at his lips. Did he do her proud? He turned then, looking to Euphemia, a hopeful look on his face as he awaited her reaction…did she like it? Was it acceptable? Could she see them both reflected in the stars, just as he could see it so clearly?
But Euphemia! She was kind, and this he knew! It wasn’t just that she gazed at him with amazement, she treated him in a way that made his heart soar like an excited hawk who found an updraft. They exchanged their thoughts and feelings, a back and forth that made him feel heard just as he heard her every word.
See how she so eagerly helped him find a staff? He knew not if staves were even used among her people. He already knew from the stories of other packlands, that it was not a common item. And yet, she moved without a second thought, and together they pulled from the earth the shared staff of their love.
Sure…it wasn’t technically the best staff. It was a little…scraggly. Not very straight. In fact, it is going to be rather hard to use for the purpose of weaving their story in the sky. But he would make due! It was a very special staff, even if it was not the ideal staff!
Her own feet tip-tapped against the ground, in a way he often did, and in fact he copied her with his own excitement. She sat, so beautiful at the coming night, and he might have stood there for a moment long simply gazing at her with his molten eyes.
Yes, he was staring, but it was stare with a beaming pride wanting to burst out of his chest.
He shook his head, then nodding as she encouraged him onward.
He steps forward with staff in mouth, looking up to the stars with eyes wide open. He moves his head in a circular motion, pointing the tip towards the sky as he does so. He points then to a star, humming a tone. He moves to another stay, humming a different tone. He does so multiple times, until the constellation is pointed out. It is that of two figures among a flame, and with that a song was formed with the constellation.
He does it again, but quickly this time. His movements were fluid as the wind brushed against his fluffy fur, their little song filling the air between them. He does it a third time, lifting the staff one last time for a long moment before lowering it to the ground. Now, his mouth was free to tell the story. Still looking towards the sky where the constellation was form, he speaks.
”Let this be known as the tale of Love and Flame. The telling of how this one rose from death, and how Euphemia cleansed him…from Duskbreaker into Adonis! How fate drew them together, and bound them in the fire of their joining. Let their song be carried within their hearts…unending! Let the stars forever hold the weave of their love, a thread never to break!” he exclaimed, his voice for once thundering across the mountainside, becoming more engrossed and enveloped with each word to the end in a glorious echo.
He felt it did it right. He felt he did the tradition just as it should be. But the elders were not here to guide him. His mother was not here to watch him, but he swore he could see her smile in the twinkle of a star near the twilight. A smile tugs at his lips. Did he do her proud? He turned then, looking to Euphemia, a hopeful look on his face as he awaited her reaction…did she like it? Was it acceptable? Could she see them both reflected in the stars, just as he could see it so clearly?
