Out of the Dark

Before the porcupine encounter, @Ira gets first post

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Sometimes there was beauty in the unknown. The beauty in this case were the unpredictable skies. For Andor at least, the strange storm in the "before" had signified that something was coming. He was starting to learn that strange changes in the weather could mean bigger things elsewhere.

He didn't know what happened. He only knew that, well, something had happened. The direction of the wind had changed overnight. He was pretty sure the sun had set differently before. He looked southward and saw a mountain top he did not recognize.

So, he bugged his mother. “Mom?”
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Ira was not the only one to notice the changes about the Summit. Since she awoke to new skies, most of her time had gone towards figuring out their surroundings and ensuring the pack's safety. Thankfully, whatever happened seemed to only be good, or at least in comparison to the hand they were dealt prior. Rain drizzled and sunk into her fur as she padded along one of the well-worn trails. It would be good to check the caches while any rot smell might be dampened. She was stopped though by the voice of one of her younger children. Andor wasn't always the most vocal child, or at least in interest, so she paused without a second thought so he could catch up. “Yes?”

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A reminder for myself/others that Andor is 9 months here

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 It was not just the air that he felt had changed. It was not just the pattern of the wind across the peaks nor the strange temperature rise. They had changed. He didn't know how or why or what might have caused it. It was as unnameable as the colours in the moving aurora. Though, rather than sparking a sense of joy and awe, he felt a deep and painful anxiety that had him clinging to his mother for support.
 As she stopped in her duties, he ran to her side and leaned on her, licking and nibbling at her cheek in worried affection, needing her as a young toddler and still now as he grew toward early adolescence. To live up to her graceful yet commanding nature was impossible, but his obsessions were closer to who they were as mother and son and far less as what he meant to the family dynamic. It mattered little to him in his privilege of what life he had been born into, and even less that he could do little wrong in this harsh and brutal world. She was his guiding star, and he did whatever he could to tell her without words that he would be her shining jewel should she will it. Andor's love was a desperate, careless love, one that ached for distance and would have terrified any girl he might have crushed on.
 “What's happened?” The question hung in the air and felt dim and distressed. “It's not our mountain. It's not Fate's Summit.”
 Panic was reverberating under every word he said. His voice was starting to change, moving from child to man, punctured by poor confidence and indulged by delicate and womanish "S" sounds when he spoke any such word with the letter.
 “What are you going to do?”
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Her boy rushed to her side with nips and licks he likely would not have made before... It was jarring to see how he had grown seemingly overnight, but the display suggested he was still the same Andor she knew and loved. Ira shoved her confusion down, allowing him to continue for a moment, before she tried to settle him with a lick to the top of his head. She could be confused later, but right now her son needed her to be certain. “A good question...” One she wished she could fully answer. “but you are not entirely correct.”

The roan queen gestured to the worn trails formed over the years since Vanderfell first laid claim to Fate's Summit. “This is our home, that much has not changed, but it seems what lays beyond may have.” It was important to establish some sense of security even when faced with such a large unknown. He was still only a boy, and he had a right to be scared. Maybe she should be more so as well, but for now, whatever happened only benefited Vanderfell. “Our family is still here, as are the paths worn by our paws. Some have left, but this life is not for all. That is what it means to be Vanderfell— wanderer of the mountain.”

As for what she will do... there was really only one option. “We will continue on as we always have. The gods have shown their will, and we must do the same in return. Even if the earth shakes and the sky bleeds, we shall live, for we are strong. If we were not, we would not still stand here today.” Something her enemies could no longer say, or so she assumed. Why else might the gods smite them and their claim from this realm?

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 In the shuffle, Andor had been stunted. Though he had physically grown, he did not remember any days in the last two months. The world had shifted, he with it, and now things were in disarray. Andor didn't know how to act. He had yet to see a reflection of himself, but knew that he had grown. Confusion slaughtered his every thought.
 For so many months, when his world was cloudy, he had run to his mother. Perhaps it was simply in his gentle nature, or maybe he was just more sensitive than usual for a son born to this family. He was often quiet, but it was rare that he was alone. His sister Petra had shadowed every step since birth. Now, Petra could not have answers, so he sought Mother's guidance only.
 Andor snorted oddly at the lick to his head, for though he was acting like one he didn't like being treated so patronizingly. The noise forced air and snot out his nose and he trotted forward two steps, waving his tail in almost cat-like defiance but still lowered. Not correct how?
 But Mother explained, and it was clear that she had been observing the changes during her rounds. He looked up at her, soaking in every word as gospel, knowing that she was right. There was no questioning. They would keep on as they had.
 “Why would the gods do something like this? Why would they mess with things when they're fine the way they are...” He felt a bit angry and frustrated if some higher beings thought this was how things should be. He thought things should be not like this, not that he'd taken any time to explore anything. “Did I do something?”
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Unlike some of her other children, Andor did not seem to take her affection well. It didn't particularly wound her, as she had never been a very emotional woman anyhow, but she did wish she had a better way to ease her son. “I can not say. The gods' will is not one I question, nor will I trifle with their plans. I can say that like us, however, they are not perfect. Even if we might disagree, clearly they have found a better path. We can only trust that this time they are right.”

And so trust she would, just as she had with her own and many others awakenings. What use was there plaguing her days with questions she would never have the power to answer? There were other matters that need concern her, such as her children and the wellbeing of Vanderfell. Ira stepped forward, this time opting to bump her shoulder to his as she passed in hopes it would be better received, “You have done no wrong, my son. Have trust.”

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 "Clearly they have found a better path." This explanation reminded him a bit of when Mom or Dad would tell him to do something he wasn't supposed to. They always seemed to know better. They always seemed to know best. Andor was growing quickly to an age where no one new the better path, gods included.
 She bumped shoulders. He bumped and rubbed his side along her, pushing against her like a weight he was holding onto in a storm. He didn't realize it was what he needed. And it would be a long time before he learned how to ask for such a touch.
 His brow was furrowed in deep, daring thought. Mom said they should trust it. “This time?” The question was pointed and aggressive, suggesting that indeed, the gods had gotten it wrong at some time in the past. Had this happened before? Did she know more than she was letting on?
 “I have no trust in any of this. Any of them. Why should I?” All he had ever remembered was chaos.
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He was still troubled. She could tell from the way he leaned into her, but he was young and his emotions still rampant. Ira tilted her head back, despite the heavens offering nothing to ponder. She remembered a time when she too questioned the gods. When her life had been confusing and unforgiving. It was easy to blame that which you have little understanding. “Aye, this time. Take heed, my son. The gods are as mighty as they are many. Like ours, the path is not always straight, nor do they always agree.”

The roan woman sighed as she lowered her crown. The questions he asked were fair, but far from easy to explain. “Faith is just that— You trust in me? Your father, yes? Why is that?” She'd wait for an answer, though even if he remained silent, Ira continued, “We offer protection and guidance. Everything you know comes from us. What of adults though? Elders exist to teach and guide, but they are not always present. So then, who does one turn to? Who does one place faith in when all is beyond your reach?” Another pause as she waited for Andor to follow the connections she so carefully placed.

“The gods are always there, even when we might not realize. They may no longer show themselves so freely, but once we were all their children. They have provided for us, taught us everything we know, and in the grand scheme of things, nothing has changed. We are still but babes to them, learning and seeking guidance. You may not believe in their knowledge now, just as you may not believe in mine, but one day you will find the paths they blaze for you and you alone.”

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She seemed to know, well, everything. He wondered if he would know everything when he grew to adulthood. He wondered if she held secrets, if she knew why the mountains had shifted but could not tell him why. He wondered if the clouds had grown strange yet again, and she knew the cause but could not tell.

 You trust in me? Your father, yes? Why is that?

He thought for a moment. A lot of answers came to his head. The one that slipped out... it immediately seemed weird. “Well, you're family. Blood is everything,” he parroted, believing it fully in that moment. “You and dad would never lie to us. Never.”

Mother went on.
Andor listened.

What he gleaned was not exactly as she told, but close enough. The Gods were as the elders in their pack. They existed to teach and guide the mortal world. And, regardless of whether he believed anything she had told him, he would find fate's road. It had already been written.

“I don't like it. Why did they change it?!” he whined, moaned, half-pleaded. Promptly he curled his head into her armpit, breathing heavily, crying, terrified at the change, horrified at the way these Gods had changed the earth for no apparent reason.

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Cool to fade/archive

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It was all too confusing for a boy. A boy who no longer fit his body the way he had, seemingly days ago. He was right to be scared, confused, lost... they were normal emotions after all, but what mattered most was what he did with them. “I can not say.” Ira's voice trailed like a whisper. If she had the answers, she would have shared them, but she would not lie to her son.

As he said, she and Hiero would never lie.

They were parents, and as such, it was their job to lead their young in this confusing world. One day it would be him who navigated the unknown, perhaps with young of his own trailing close behind. “But we can not change their will, only adapt. Simply put, this is now how things are, though if you wish, perhaps you should take an offering to The Stone Watch. They might not act on your wishes, but the gods are not one to let words fall on deaf ears.” Ira sighed at the damp spot that pressed through her fur and nosed the boy's flank. “Come. We will find you something suitable from the cache.”

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