Beaver Dam i woke up with the sun

I stared up at the sun / Thought of all other people, places and things I've loved / I stared up just to see / Of all other faces, you are the one next to me...

-- OneRepublic, If I Lose Myself Tonight

April 3rd; Just before sunrise; Partly Cloudy; 36° F/2° C

Of all the places Fenru Tainn could have started living with his new outlook on life, he chose a significant spot where his mother had once met a couple of pack leaders - Alexander from the Mountain and Jaysyek from Cedarwood Forest. The stories of Corinna hunting beavers and being graced by the pair of white-pelted rulers had never been forgotten, not even through all the trauma and taxing unhappiness. In fact, the tales of both encounters had always left him dreaming of visiting the place just to see for himself if he, too, would be granted such an occasion. He rose earlier than usual, made one sweep along a small portion of one of his normal patrol routes then trailed the River north where it eventually branched off to snake through the Wildwood.

The crisp Spring air, still chilled from the night before energized him as he scampered along with the creek to his right. An aperture in the clouds allowed the sun's first rays to peek through the trees and bathe Heartleaf Creek in a warm glow. He cast his orange eyes about the area, spotting in the distance the grand structure of an impressive beaver dam and a smile cracked on either side of his face. He had found it.

He broke into a run, sprinting across a shallow part of the creek and making his way toward the construction with hurried steps. Beaver musk faintly hung in the air, another reminder that breeding season had come and gone. He pressed his nose along the rough branches that just touched the riverbank before deciding that he would do well not to push his luck by startling or angering a territorial beaver. Large paws stepped along the muddy shore, stopping only when he felt he had given himself enough distance between his proposed resting spot and the dam.

Fenru continued to eye the landmark, still half-marveling at the large rodents' handiwork and imagining how his mother and the two ivory leaders had met, here, in this very spot. He found a decent spot in the smooth, timeworn pebbles and river stones and sprawled out, stretching his limbs as far as he could. Again, he cast his fiery eyes to the morning sun before closing them completely, savoring its warmth for the time being before the clouds could steal it away again.

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History meant very little to Siku in the matter of places. History remained the same. It was the moment that changed. She cared not what had marked these lands, what had wounded them and shaped them. That meant nothing. They were what they were. The matriarch focused solely on that. Siku did, though, wonder about the current state of things here. The packs nearby. She could smell them, but she could not put a name to them. Furthermore, she had no idea how different things were from Seahawk. That now she was not the native was a strange thing. None, she imagined, knew of Atka or Sos. It mattered not. Her faith in Them had gone, though she taught her sons of them as they had been a large part of her that could not be erased. History. Atka and Sos were the cause of it. It was up to them, now.

Spring had come, but it did not truly feel as though Winter had ended. The weather was cold yet, and Siku had no desire to breed yet. Perhaps she would not until she settled again as Alpha Female. But she could not do that so swiftly here. It would take time. This would teach her sons a lesson, and a valuable one at that: patience. She knew her place, and she knew it well. That did not mean she held no respect for others. Siku was dense, but she acknowledged truths. One of the simple ones was that she would need the wolves here to survive and to learn.

A wolf was in the distance, young by the looks of it. Like her sons. She could smell his youth; the fragrance was intriguing. The Issumatar observed him, stilling herself, and then she looked to the dam.

When the youth opened his fiery eyes again, something approaching caught the corner of his eye. The auburn-dusted ears atop his head perked up in an inquisitive fashion, his whole head turning to eventually take in the dark figure of a large woman. The moment he looked over at her, she turned her own gaze away, pivoting away to eye the dam instead. His mind started to race. If Corinna had been graced by the likes of Relic Lore's leaders, was this lady one of them?

Was this... Was this @Elettra, the Willow sovereign?

He tried to remember how that particularly unpleasant late autumn memory had gone; most of the time his attention had been trained on making sure that the dead wolf cub he had found was not the same one he had befriended the season before. He found that all he remembered of the event, of Elettra, was fuzzy. She had rushed onto the scene and he could not even bring himself to look at her face... Not through all the emotion she had stirred up with the anguish in her voice, the possessiveness in her stance...

Fenru blinked curiously, watching the newcomer even if she had come to a halt. Since the removal of the Aniwaya wolves and coming and going of the war, in addition to his latest meeting with his mother about wanting to see the world for himself beyond her markers, the boy had become increasingly more outgoing. It was startling enough to make him second-guess himself every time he realized that he wanted to reach out and even initiate contact with others. Before, he would have waited to see if he would be acknowledged, maybe even considered while he waited patiently in silence.

Now far from the wallflower days behind him, he shifted to sit up. His eyes roving over her one more time prior to taking in the sight of the dam, a masterly crafted pile of sticks and mud. "Amazing, isn't it?" he queried, calling out to her in amiable tone, "And, to think that a couple of rodents built such a thing..."

(This post was last modified: Apr 04, 2013, 09:19 PM by Fenru.)

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The only acknowledgment given to the fact that he had spoken—initially—was the slow moving of her ear, which cupped and turned to face him as she regarded the object the beavers had made. Siku had seen few in passing, but had never truly given them any thought. That they might be amazing had not occurred to her; they were structures built for a simple purpose that perhaps aided them. It certainly had never hindered her, and so she had never actively sought to poach the things. His words prompted her to move forward, elongating her not-so-long neck and flaring her nostrils to deeply inhale. A couple indeed. Siku was about as sociable as a blade of grass. But she was reminded of her sons, here, and so she spoke but one phrase: Everything has its purpose. Ah, yes. Ambiguous Siku. As she said this, she spared him a glance. She had no desire to chase the boy away, but neither did she desire to entertain him with fruitless small talk that would get them nowhere in the future but their names. And what use was a name when one had scent? His was of the trees of his territory, its grass, its leader, his pack. It would not be forgotten by the once-tracker, who was once esteemed only for that in Seahawk. Ah, beginnings. Most were humble. Being born to the Warchief, however, made a difference. And her own sons could not say their own was very humble. Their roots to her would mean plenty in the future. The Issumatar moved nearer to the dam. She had never looked at one so closely before. Siku had never been interested enough. But since becoming a mother, she was more exploratory, apt to wondering if things were dangerous or if they were not so as to ward her cubs away. Siku had killed beavers before and was not so worried about them as she was the structure of their makeshift home.

Whether or not the wolf who had come into his midst was the leader he thought she was didn't matter. Either way, the young River wolf was quite taken with her. He had always hoped for the chance to meet someone here and here it was... and, upon first impression, she was every bit the savant he had hoped her to be. The single phrase tickled and teased at his ears.

Everything has its purpose...

His head tilted to one side, the spirit of inquiry flickering across his face. Did it? The edges of his brows, accented by the white eye spots above each auburn eye, touched one another. He had never thought of that before... Without the beavers, there wouldn't have been a dam to feature as Heartleaf Creek's prominent landmark. Without the dam, the creek might have been much larger, deeper, or possibly split into three different forks instead of two. It piqued his interest. If everything, even dams and beavers, had a purpose, then did he?

He rose to gather his feet beneath him, stepping in her direction but still keeping his distance. No matter how he tried to keep himself from joining her in her inspection of the stick-and-mud barrier, he couldn't help but to question her statement. "Even us?" he asked. "Do we have a purpose?"

Fenru's muscles tensed as if he felt the need to anchor him to something. To keep himself steady should the woman decide to make a 180-degree turn and snap back in response to his naivety. He thought back to that day when Ice, the once-subordinate of his mother's pack, had succeeded in bringing him out of the wordless, paranoid phase of his childhood. The taste in his mouth that the words left behind bordered on the edge of bitterness from realizing how unsure it made him feel. "If... If we do, how do we know what it is?"

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Perhaps she ought to have anticipated a follow-up question. As she nosed at the immovable, soaked wood, his voice came. She ought to have, but she did not; not many conversed with her. They idled in her presence, and spoke nothing of true sentiment. Her own sons likely would not have responded. Many she reigned over fathomed her word was law. It was as good as that, Siku felt; she was not often questioned. But he was not questioning her, she understood. He was asking. He was young. He was curious. He did not yet see. And so she rose from her inspection, chest damp and blades of fur clumped together haphazardly. His question was met with silence, her head rising and a foreleg stretching outward. And then she nodded, the motion slow. Naturally, they had a purpose. To grow, to hunt, to keep the world as it was. To expand, to procreate, to conquer, to kill. His next question was equally as unanticipated. She licked her chops and coolly responded, You do not. Perhaps only in death he would know what his purpose was. Perhaps he would be fortunate enough to realize what it was as he grew older. Siku knew her own purpose. Her role. Some were born Omega's, some subordinates. She was Alpha. It was unquestionable. Unchangeable. It was not simply to bring to earth her cubs. That, ultimately, had been Kilgharrah's purpose. For he had died soon after, when her cubs were young. He could die then; his job, his role, his purpose, had been fulfilled. Perhaps Siku understood especially then that this was what it was, to have a purpose. Some died for it. But Siku's own purpose was long-lasting. Her cause, as of yet, did not require self-sacrifice. Once it had. But she had prevailed. Tartok lived on. She and her disowned sibling, Nanuq, had made up. It was not forgotten. But in its own way, the transgression was forgiven. Even after all of that, her sibling was nothing to her any more. Nanuq's purpose, role, had been abandoned. Siku saw it. And when one did that, they were pointless; forgiven or not. Siku was immovable in that conviction. The ink-hued bear of a wolf turned back to her task, moving to prod roughly at the dam. And then she moved to see if it would support her weight, which she was sure it would; it could handle the coursing river and the weight it thrust upon it, so what was to say it could not host a few extra pounds? All the while she was in tune with the boy, who might have more questions.

She seemed to have been listening, even as she continued her examination of the dam; and, ever so patiently, he waited. He wasn't sure what he was particularly waiting for but he hoped it was, at the very least, a satisfying answer. What he got in return was a sagely nod, then another set of thought-provoking words: "you do not." His scowl became more conspicuous, the markings of his face lifting and angling to emphasize his expression. He shook his head, an assortment of other questions springing up to the forefront of his mind.

It was nearly dizzying but Fenru managed to hold his ground, slowly coming to sit at the edge of what he assumed was her personal space (a good meter or so from where she stood). Eager eyes and ears persisted on watching her, observing as she moved about the top of the dam. His ears partially lowered as his musings fell away and the concern for her choice of action took over. The woman wasn't overweight or corpulent per se, but from mere observation she could have easily been as hefty and maybe even nearly match him in size.

Rather than tell her to be careful or outright say that it wouldn't be wise to cross the creek by using the makeshift bridge, he held his tongue and mulled over what she had said once more. Her stating that they did not know their purpose, confirmed that they, particularly he had one. At present, he assumed he did not know what his purpose was, but maybe... maybe he knew. He just hadn't been ready to face it until now.

He then asked the most pressing question at the top of his list of questions. "Do we have several purposes?" he ventured, training his eyes on her every movement again. "Several tasks to fulfill before we accomplish a main one?" If his sense of curiosity had been able to manifest into a physical state, Fenru might as well have been at the mercy of four or five little cub versions of himself... nipping, biting and tugging at him in all directions. If she further affirmed that there were several purposes to be fulfilled, then he was more than likely standing at a gridlock.

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There was no questioning Siku's stature. It was not typical, to be sure, of a woman. She was massive, as was her mother, as was her sister, as were most—but not all—women of her family. Their large size came from their quarry. Siku hunted bison, and larger prey such as caribou. Here, she had done neither; but Siku was a wolf who relied on the larger beings to sustain her. Her stature aided her. Not many needed to be so large; she was an adaptation of what was necessary where she was native to. It was not to intimidate. It was to survive. It seemed Siku thought better of testing the entirety of the dam. There was no use. What if it did not hold? Curiosity rarely hooked itself into her as it had then; Fenru had caught a rare display. Siku was prepared to leave altogether, satisfied with her findings as she would ever be. She had been so lost in her mind, so immersed in her thoughts, that Fenru's nearness had been missed. She had heard him come nearer, perhaps even seen it in her peripheral vision, but it was now she made sense of it. He wanted to talk. Her perpetual grimace seemed to deepen. But they could help one another, she decided. Her experience would not be for nothing. And so she spoke. We cannot be certain, came her toneless response, though she continued, But we have roles in the lives of others. Perhaps one purpose that we must fulfill for ourselves. Siku did not think much of this, but the few times she had, her thoughts had articulated themselves into simple nothings. There was no codicil of life on this matter. It could only be humored. You are a native, she tested then, sidestepping and leaping from the dam, a loud splash heard as the water lapped at her hocks, only to settle and trickle around them. At last, he seemed to have her full attention.

He caught sight of her grimace, an apparent scowl now across her dark features. He slightly winced; maybe he had come a bit too close for her tastes. Her tone was bereft of emotion but as she looked at him his eyes roved over her face, focusing on each of her glacial blue-ringed pupils, her nose, the tips of her pointed ears, the bridge of her muzzle. Fenru nodded quietly as he made sense of what she had just said, allowed the sensation of enlightenment wash over him completely.

It made sense. It all made sense.

Of course he had a role in the lives of others... To @Kisla, he was but littermate, he was her support and advocate should she need him to be. To Rissa and Torrel, he was the failure of an older brother, the protector who had let them vanish under his watch; to @Aiyana, he was the opposite. He was the monster of a brooding, looming, and ever-vigilant sibling who would not dare to even let her slip from his mind. To @Ice, he was an apprentice, the promise of an upcoming Scout and Guard and the last of his generation to bear his absent father's surname. In some aspects, he was deemed the adopted son that Indru had left behind. To @Corinna, he was the affirmation of her ability to mother and nurture her family and bloodline. As a River wolf, was expected to find his place within his family's pack, a purpose and role he had yet to fully find.

Her last sentence made him cant his head to one side again and he watched as she leapt down from the beaver dam. He closed his eyes and braced himself, a few droplets finding their way onto his forelimbs, chest and even the tip of his nose. "Yes, ma'am," he answered her respectfully, righting himself again as he looked into the side of her face. "I am... Why do you ask?"

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Fortunately, he seemed content with her response. This was a relief. She felt there was no elaborating further on the matter of this belief; she was, in fact, much too simple to articulate any further than she had. The woman could not ingress into her mind as many could; she was limited to what she had heard and what she believed, but these beliefs she did not think much of herself, because they were what they were. That was that. Siku thought of @Sitamat and @Ataneq as she watched the polite Fenru. They were polite, but far more brusque; respectful, but not in words, in actions. You knew from their averted eyes and their fixed stance they respected you; this one spoke it. Ma'am. Siku could not think of a time she had been called Ma'am before. She felt it did not become her; though this was because she was not one to identify with titles that seemed frail and meek. Ma'am. It sounded soft. But her face was impassive, and she did not look to be offended. He could not possibly understand. She would correct him in time. She felt his gaze on the side of her face, and shifted her hefty weight. I am not, she began, moving to face him fully so they could take in the whole of one another. Licking her chops, she continued. I know nothing of these lands. The names. The wolves. The packs. The wars, the conflicts. Siku lifted her wedgelike muzzle to inhale the air for a brief moment, and then returned her attentions back to him, her head cocking to the side. It was no endearing motion; the cant was a question. Would you be willing to speak of these things to me? Innocence, the look of it, was not something Siku knew how to wear; and she did not expect this Fenru to offer his aid. But he seemed wholly kind, and so the Issumatar could only hope he would be willing to assist her.