Tit for Tat, This or That

The days had become quite rare that Kjors left Hearthwood River for any extended period of time.  Though Karina had given birth to but one pup (one elegant, healthy, perfect pup) the young mother now found herself providing for three when Naia had unexpectedly passed while birthing her own litter.  While he’d not been particularly fond of the idea, they’d little choice in the matter – the princess was the one with the flowing milk, and without her, the pups would die.  It was the alpha’s problem, he rather thought, but he’d not argue with his partner over it.

Instead, he kept to himself.  Rarely was he seen by prying eyes, making trips to Karina’s den at odd times.  He would deliver an assortment of items, things to keep her occupied, fish for her to eat.  If she needed to stretch her limbs, find water, or otherwise relieve herself, the one-eyed dragon would take her place in the den, keeping an eye on three furry balls that were supposed to be wolves.

Bennet, of course, was almost always tucked against his chest, nose pressed to her tiny body as he whispered stories of their family long past in her ear.  Once it became apparent that the other two were basically as helpless (and not about to cause any immediate harm to his daughter), they too were welcomed at his side.

But not today.

Today, Kjors needed the stretch, galloping far from marked lands with no true destination in mind.  On his way back, he’d scout for a prize to return to to the pack wolves, and it was the scent of a dead deer that had turned him in this direction.  Meat was meat, even if he’d not killed it himself.  But as Kjors approached the source of the fading scent, he found but a single antler – not even the entire rack.  Ears fell flat, until an idea struck him.

Perhaps the puppies would need a chew toy?  He circled the antler once, wondering whether or not @Karina would approve of such an idea.

A few more moments of thought later, and the dragon circled the lone antler one more time.  Truly, he knew not what his mate would make of the gift – perhaps the pups were still too young, and their teeth too small for such a toy.  At some point, this would change, he thought with a wry smile.  The seasons would change, a zeitgeber would inform the children to grow their coats out and shed their milk teeth.  When that time came, such a thing would most certainly be welcome.

Until then, however—

Kjors stopped is pacing, glancing down at the item.  Seemed a waste, to leave a shed antler behind.  Why, left here, it was practically a gift from the Mother herself.  Giving himself a firm nod, the wolf wrapped his jaws around the item and lifted it gently.  No, it would not break apart between his teeth, but it was so pristine, as if a buck had dropped it just the day before.  He wished not to ruin the beauty – for if it would not be a gift to his darling girl and her milk-siblings, than it would be carefully squirreled away in the dragon’s hoard, where he might marvel over it in peace.

Fade.