Where I made my surrender

para @Tamir <3

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In the passing year, Stjörnuáti had become increasingly vicious in his protection of Morðfjall. He had always been significantly territorial as was within his nature, but with his pups growing into yearlings, the man of gold tinged creams was more savage than ever before. Anything he considered to be a threat was rooted out and either chased off or killed, with the spoils going to the woman whose belly had blessed him with a family that the gods could envy.

The stareater had not given much thought to his turn of behavior, having seen it in many men of Stormhaven, and in his Father especially. With both of his mothers to bear the fruit of the family seed, Eiður had been nothing short of a nightmare to those who had dared cross him. Still, Stjor paid all of it no mind, instead choosing to make his rounds at the mountain's foot, a fair distance past his own borders.

In fact, he was far enough from Hrafnsvaktin's borders, that when he spotted the other male, he did not immediately seek to attack and drive him off. He did, however, bark to grab the other's attention. “You linger near mountain, ókunnugur — stranger. Why?” He was downwind enough that the familiar scent did not yet reach him.

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The wind had guided him. It ushered his wayward feet ever closer to the hearth of something hidden, the warmth shielded by an otherwise frigid exterior. Though he was unsure where Savan had fled off to, she was grown just as he—they needed to make lives for themselves, even if it meant starting alone. And Tamir had been otherwise uncaring for where he ended up, what world he fell into, or what life awaited him. He was content even if it was a means just scraping beneficial.

Tamir's head lifted to the sky, the same glistening star guiding him forth as the wind ruffled the fur at his back. The cold nipped at his heels until it consumed him whole, the scent of freshly fallen snow and hailing ice tangling with his gooseberry fragrance. He had been alone. There was no sight of another, no echo of a calling, and while he could smell it faintly, the freshly fallen snow had masked whatever scent lingered at the mountain's edge.

But then the snow creased, the hollow sound of steps and soft chuffs met his ears, and another—a ghost—descended. Tamir hesitated, paws pausing as he took in the other. He was no threat—a wayward soul, if nothing else. “Stars guide me. Bring home. Bring here.”

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