You'll find me here

His pace was slow today, methodical; still purposeful, of course — when could it be said that the Jarl of Hrafnsvaktin was ever lazy? — but slow. He chose an easy path to follow, making sure that he stayed in the more shallow snow. His scent would be easy to trace as he made his rounds at the foot of the mountain. His mountain.

His intent this day? Teaching. He had noticed for some time today a small, diminutive shadow following the path he forged across the snow. The stareater Did not make it too easy, but he also did not make the lesson overly difficult. There were times where his stride would lengthen, his pace quicken as he veered into the edge of the forest that blanketed Morðfjall.

Still, young @Tveir trekked on, learning the ways of a northern hunter without truly knowing she was doing so.
the staff team luvs u

Faðir was not making this easy.

In truth, Tveir was not sure exactly what she was doing, other than following. At first, it had been because she wanted to simply be near him, to observe and remain in his proximity. Now, what she felt was more akin to determination, her little face stony as she headed after him.

It was easy to track his scent. Harder to trek through the snow, which, for the man, would probably be easy to traverse, but Tveir had not inherited his height, and had to more or less trudge through the drifts after him.

She would catch up, though. She was sure of it.

the staff team luvs u

The snow thinned as the gilded male strode under the boughs of Hrafnaflugsskógur, the sun spotted shadows slipping over his pale pelt. Wandering through the trees was a familiar task to him, one he'd spent many hours doing; here, you could see a tuft of his fur caught in the branch of a sapling. There, his claw marks scored into the trunk of an elder pine. He had claimed this mountain what felt like years ago now, though in this land with these gods, who could truly know? All Stjörnuáti knew was that he had long marked this forest as his own, and the indicators of such were all around.

Would his daughter be led astray by all of this? Or would she listen to her instincts and stick to the fresher scent? The man paused for a moment, looking at the fallen tree that crossed his path, considering it. Backing up a few steps, Stjor leaped over the obstacle easily and landing on the other side. He sought to challenge her, challenge the little mind that was proving to be sharp ass a thorn.

Now, he would lie in wait on the other side, relaxing near a boulder some lengths away from his chosen test.

the staff team luvs u

It was getting more and more difficult to find the scent. She kept getting sidetracked by older ones - led aside to old markings and fur and trails from days ago. Irritating. Tveir bristled and stomped after the freshest one she could find, relying on that and the footprints she could see, though the snowfall wasn't fresh and others had walked this path.

She placed her paw in the print her father had left, nose filled with his scent. Fresher now, she realized, and trailed after it without much more thought.

His tracks overlapped, scent gathering in one spot before ending suddenly before a fallen tree. It was like he'd disappeared in thin air - something Tveir might've believed when she was younger, but knew was impossible now.

He must've crossed over the tree somehow. Tveir took a step back and jumped, claws scrabbling against bark before she fell back, plopping into the snow. Such were the pitfalls of being tiny.

Tveir huffed at herself for her stupidity. Of course she couldn't cross over it, so she would have to go around. It was a bit of a walk, and she had to crawl underneath a branch, but she did manage to get to the other side.

Where her father lay, not far off.

"Faðir. Þú hleypur frá mér," — Father. You run from me. she accused, golden eyes narrowed as she stomped over to him. "Hvers vegna?" — Why?

the staff team luvs u

His ears twitched as he listened to her approach, and still gave no indication of his presence. She needed to learn to look. To hunt. What better way than hunting her own father?

Teeth dug into the fur and flesh of his foreleg, scratching a spot there as he waited for Tveir’s young mind to figure out the invisible puzzle he had left for her.

And figure it out she did — his head lifted, the momentary itch forgotten as he heard her claws scrabble against the tree. Silence followed, and no Tveir. But she hadn’t given up; she was one of his after all. He had known when to give up either, and he could see that quality in Tveir.

There, from beneath a branch of the fallen tree, she appeared in all her irritated glory. Stjornuati could not help but smile just slightly, wry and proud all at the same time. “You found me. What does it matter?” Another lesson, but for him and not her. Would she get hung up on the why, or let it be?

---

assume he’s talking in their native language!

the staff team luvs u

What did it matter?

Tveir's nose wrinkled just so in thought. She was hardly the expressive type - far from it, in fact. It was all in the small twitches of her face, in the way her eyes widened or narrowed the slightest fraction. To her father, her exasperation and contemplation might be clear as day, but to a stranger, she might come across as perfectly neutral. 

"It was... a game?" she guessed, approaching him and settling close by, craving the proximity. Perhaps that was what she'd been seeking in the first place, she realized. Closeness. It settled something within her, this flittering anxiety she often felt when she was alone. Perhaps a side effect from being part of such a large litter. 

the staff team luvs u

Her infantile anger went without comment or pandering. She would learn in life that inconveniences happened often, more than he would like to admit. “A lesson, a game. The end result is no different.”

Allowing her close, Stjonuati turned his head to nudge her cheek with rough affection. “What do you think you were learning as you followed me?” There would never be a moment where the stareater simply gave his children the answers. They would learn and earn them as he had: through trial and error, through mistakes and mentors. And they would be all the better for it.
the staff team luvs u