favorite find

  waddling through the throngs of ivory snow, large paws left rather small imprints. stubby legs forced themselves to trudge forward, to put distance between himself and the overly crowded den. as a boy from a seemingly large family- he enjoyed the peace that the silent forest brought. just like a river, he never stepped into the same forest twice.

  months have since passed, and the youngster was *finally* six months old. old enough to be considered a man, truly. or thats what he believed. it's how he managed to find himself fo far away from home. to lurk along the borders. if his parents found out how far he'd gone, he'd get his butt chewed out. they would drown him in chores and force him to look after his younger siblings. *ick*. no thanks.

  as tawny meshed into darked earth tones, start charcoal black added an interesting texture to the boys appearance. he was tall, but a bit pudgy - clearly not fully grown into his size and extra skin. his fur was thick and long, which added a much needed blanket to fight back against the north wrath. so when his eyes, eyes that did not match his family's, landed upon a smaller frame, he paused.

  poking out against the barren backdrop, was a honey slicked... girl? draped in dark hues of melted gold and a rust laid the most gorgeous gem he had ever seen... not that he's ever really seen a girl.

  based off first glance and smell, she was not from his home, not from his pack. she did however, smell heavenly. twisting his nose to the sky, the young man took a few initial whiffs before letting himself almost savor the flavor. pineapple, cedar, and... another miscellaneous scent all sent chills down his spine. how could someone so young smell so... good? was that weird? didn't all girls smell good? surely she would not be the first, and she would not be the last. but she would be his secret favorite.

  "hello?" fjórir finally spoke. his voice was soft, maybe even a bit hoarse. his gentle nature came from his mother, while his fury and vigor was rooted from his father. though it was a mix of them that told him to move closer. so, he did.

  inching forward, the boy got close enough that there was a few feet between them. enough room for both to breathe. enough room for him to recognize if he took too many steps, he would be outside the border. he would be.. out..outside the border. OUTSIDE. THE BORDER. *wait till he rubs it in his siblings face*. the first to break free of the group. suck on that, losers.

  remembering the task at hand, his pale, almost lifeless green eyes roamed over the girl before seeing... seeing what he thought was blood. "are you allt í lagi? (okay)"
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Ylva was the troublemaker out of her litter, the boldest pup despite her inherent weakness as the smallest pup. She was the runt, scrawny despite her thick fur and lanky like all youth still needing to grow into their extra skin were. Where her parents expected her untimely death, the little girl defied all odds and instead thrived. She might have been small, but she had the might of all her ancestors before her.

So it wasn't a surprise when the six month old pup grew bored watching her siblings fight and instead sought her own adventure, ditching her important life lessons for exploration instead.

What she hardly expected was the hungry bear that just woke up from hibernation to come around the corner and chase her down to a sheer cliff edge. The way she saw it, she could jump to her certain doom or face this starving boar in an effort to slip past him and run for home. However, any rescue let alone hope for escape was slim to none and that was only further proved when the bear grew tired of the wait and made the decision for her. What neither one expected was for the great bears weight to cause a collapse of the shale and send them both spiraling to the mountain side.

A rogue swing of the bear strikes her leg, a pained puppyish yelp leaving her lips from the sudden and visceral agony tearing through her at the severing of flesh as two inch wickedly curved claws dug into the meat of her leg. What was, but a brief moment in reality, felt like an eternity before the aches and bruising pains of tumbling to her death registered in her brain.

And then there was darkness.

Only for the sound of a voice, both high pitched in its youth and undeniably boyish, reached her ears and pulled her brain up from the fog of unconsciousness and back into awareness. Slowly with time —the boy sounded worried even as he spoke in a foreign language mixed with her natal tongue— her brain became awake and with it brought forth the unpleasant sensations of her mortal body. The throbbing sting in her leg was proof enough, the golden fur caked with both rock dust and blood. Her body aches with every bruise she undoubtedly acquired after her tumble down a mountain, and her head pounded as if a herd of elk were trampling inside it. What's worse is when she tried to open her eyes only to be blinded by a bright kaleidoscope of colors that sent a stab of pain through her eyes and into her throbbing cranium which only triggered a nauseous feeling in her belly that had her mouth salivating.

A high pitched groan of pain and discomfort left her lips, nose and brows furrowing in obvious signs of discomfort as she slurred out almost drunkenly, "it hurts…"

---

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  the decadent scent of metallic danced through the air, and the painting the young girl left behind was abstract. it was vibrant and it was clearly unintentional. from her wound, which was the most gruesome thing he had yet to see, was leaking pools of plasma. just the smell alone was overwhelming, but he couldn't pull back. instead, the young boy merely stared at the body. along the heartiest part of her leg were long strips of mangled flesh, ripped to tatters by what he could only assume was a large predator.

  the north was harsh, and his family knew that best. they lived and thrived along these powdered peaks, creating generational wealth and prosperity for their pack. though it seemed this girl had some determination herself. not many pups survived any type of attacks. they were still clunky with their mechanics and their bark was far worse than their bite. yet, this welp was fighting back tears and instead groaned out it hurt.

  snapping back to the task at hand, fjórir wasted no time in reeling in the distance between them. his broad and chunky build loomed over her small and seemingly frail one as he lowered his skull to gently tap the girl. "dont move," was her only warning before he jammed his snout under her side. clearly - he was not graceful. even with sisters, the boy didn't normally handle others with much care. he was a brute, through and through.

  barreling through her, he finally found the other side and scooped her up. at this point, she would lay along his back, her face facing the floor as her paws dangled on the other side of his flank. "laga sjálfur (fix yourself)," he said with a surprisingly soft tone. she was a stranger who was in pain, he could recognize that. there also seemed to be a language barrier that would prove to be difficult, but from her accent alone, he was sure his mother could speak to her.

  a bit uncomfortable with the sudden weight that now pushed down against his spine, fjórir began his trek back home - one paw at a time.

  "who... are," he fumbled for a moment, his brows etching closer together as he tried to find the correct word, "you?"
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the staff team luvs u