[PRP] A Hint of Doubt

[Shia bean]

Violet Stag was thrilled. Once again, he had a home.

Whenever the male could, he socialized. Wherever hunting parties went, he accompanied. Unless Violet chose solitude, he was never left within it and his joy knew no bounds. His faith knew no bounds. It was remarkable what prayer could do for a wolf who believed. That Mother Beneath The Mountains was a good Mother indeed.

But nothing was ever perfect. Not for long. It was a truth that had been keeping him up at night, ever since his initial welcome. The balance of all things, he had thought when the going was really good... Where was it? Where was the conflict? Where was the tension to keep it all from floating away? The question hung like a mound of snow on a thin bough, creaking and threatening to fall at any given moment. Perhaps it was in the longing he felt for his old home? Or in the nights when the pack went hungry.

Or perhaps it was on its way. Steady, ready to turn everything on its head for the sake of...

As a distraction, Violet took to the forest. Alone. Searching for the thrill of the hunt. Looking to run until his legs couldn't carry him any further. But his heart wasn't in it. Lazy sprints across the blanketing snow all loud and clunky, alerting prey at every turn. All the while his thoughts (filled with warnings) blinked in and out of frame. It's coming. Something's coming. It has to be coming. Things are too good. They're never too good for long.

Have faith. When the running had exhausted him and the day turned to night, those words were what comforted him.

Have faith. This is all a part of the divine plan. Blessings and lessons alike. You know this. Have faith.



Early into the evening, Violet returned to the pack's border empty-pawed. The worrying had subsided, luckily, and it allowed him a chance to breathe. To really breathe, and to mutter prayers beneath it all, willing The Mother of the Mountain to hear his plea. He followed the fringes of the Dawnstar territory, wasting time by tiring his psyche out with his greatest weapon: Spirituality.

Protect this place. Protect them. Please.

Mediciner

 

[medigel]

Dawnstar had this predilection for attracting the strangest visitors and would-be members that chafed at her. On the one hand, being a dependable and stoic figure landed Stonerooted squarely in the trust of a good many wolves in the face of that onslaught of oddness. On the other, it meant she had to deal with it regardless. First with Clay's idiot children, then the moon-swooning girl, and now the alpha's children which, seemingly, also was not immune to the quirky curse that the packlands drew in like water into roots. Not for the first time did Stonerooted wonder if this truly was the best place to lay low, when she stood out just by doing her job without fuss. Perversely so, she thought.

But a beta had duties, and she did not shirk them, opinionated or not. Stonerooted never spoke about her beliefs unless it was pertinent, and it would be a waste of breath and time if she sat down and always complained about others. Not to mention she would have been shameful if she indulged it. A tool had no use for scraping against others without reason. Better to whet against something like prey. So she did. A little extra something for the newest nursing mother, a plump rabbit in her jaws.

She hadn't intended to intercept anyone on the way back, but there were only so many paths to and from Dawnstar. Violet Stag looked tired even from afar, the smell of sweat evident as she rounded near. Stonerooted hadn't had time to fully evaluate the wolf for herself (or want, to be honest), but it would be remiss of her to not check in with every member from time to time.

Mouth full of rabbit, she merely snorted loudly as she approached, letting her paws fall noisily on the ground.

Shia bean