midsummer

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3 months

It was still dark when he opened his eyes, but he knew — as he always did — that he was right on time.

Scrambling from the mouth of the den, Apollo sat his eager little butt in the clearing right outside, in just the right spot to gaze between the trees, and waited. He watched as the sky lightened, gradually, from the darkest of dark navy blues to soft pinks and purples and pale golden hues. He saw the sun as it pierced the sky. He squinted against the sudden, blinding wash of light, and grinned with all his teeth.

Like a rocket, he careened into Bragi's sleeping form, earning little more than a deeply winded grunt for his troubles. Not excited enough!!!

Bragi, he whined, pulling at her ear. Wake up! Midsummer!

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Uhhng, came the deeply winded grunt. It felt like she'd only just closed her eyes, having spent much of the prior night explaining, and subsequently regretting, the concept of the midsummer festival to one (1) over-eager Apollo. She couldn't really fault him for that, though. It was probably the most exciting thing to ever happen in his life, considering he was a normal child who enjoyed socializing and experiencing new things.

Gross.

I'm up, she slurred, eyes still closed, feeling blindly with her paw in a feeble attempt to hold back the vicious onslaught. Okay, I'm getting up.

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Her ear slipped from between his killing teeth. He immediately went back in for another bite, but his attempt was foiled by the sudden arrival of a single, outstretched paw. It neither buckled nor bent as he raged against it, and so he redirected his attention elsewhere, opting instead to wriggle excitedly in the early morning light.

C'mon, c'mon, I wanna hunt the boars!

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Giving herself just one, solitary second to sigh deeply and psyche herself up for the day ahead, Bragi finally opened her eyes. Apollo was already waiting for her outside as she hauled herself bodily from the quiet, comforting warmth of her nest and shook the sleep from her limbs.

That's not for little kids, bud. She hated to burst his bubble, but there was also no way in hell that she was taking him within a hundred feet of an injured, desperate wild boar on the run for its life with an entire hunting party of wolves hot on its heels.

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The boy pouted with his entire heart and soul, puffy cheeks and all. But I wanna help, he wailed, his disappointment immeasurable and his day ruined.

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The poor thing. His life was just so very hard.

There's plenty of other ways to help, she assured, bending down to nudge him out in front of her. They could pick flowers, though with their combined luck and knowledge they'd probably only succeed in ripping up a bunch of, like, poison ivy.

...Was that even found on the island???

How about we go fishing? Granted, she had never been fishing either, unless fighting for her life trying to catch The Legend counted, but she figured it could be a fun distraction if nothing else.

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I wanna— He paused, mid dramatic flop as Bragi nudged him, his ears pricking forward even as gravity dragged him the rest of the way to the ground. What's fish?

He snapped at her ankles as she effortless stepped over him, popping back up onto all four paws to follow, his despair forgotten.

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The corner of her mouth quirked, despite herself. Food, she explained, one ear rotating back to listen for the soft thundering of his clumsy paws as she led him down to the river. For the festival. They're these weird, scaley things that live in the wa—

Suddenly the pawsteps stopped. Hard.

Bragi stole a glance over her shoulder, curious.

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He hadn't really been thinking about where she was leading him. It was the place he wasn't allowed to go, which otherwise would've been exciting, had his brain not been consumed by visions of the midsummer festival. He hadn't really been paying attention to the low, distant rumble, growing louder with each step.

When he saw it, he froze. It was immediate, instinctual. The way the light reflected off the surface sent a chill through to his core. The sound of it, trickling gently over rocks worn smooth with time, was haunting.

Distantly, he heard Bragi speaking, but her words were lost to the river. Swept up like they were nothing. Spinning, reeling, getting dashed against the rocks.

Drowning.

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Apollo?

The absolute lack of reaction, the stiffness of his limbs, and the intensity of his stare was... more than a little unsettling. It reminded her a bit of a deer, caught unawares and staring down the barrel of a hunting rifle. Definitely not the lively, engaged kid from moments prior.

Hey. She turned fully to face him, her brow furrowed and a creeping sense of dread working its way down her spine. He didn't even look at her, just keep staring, fixated on... the river?

Apollo, she tried again, louder, stepping in front of him to break his line of sight. He finally reacted then, flinching, and turning his gaze slowly up towards her. ...You okay? Do you... want to go pick some flowers instead? I'll tell you a new story on the way.

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