Far away, over the edge—it might have sounded funny to a scholarly luperci, but Skoll only pondered the phrase and nodded. He supposed the world could have an edge; there wasn’t any evidence against it. His understanding of the world had no real need to transcend what he could smell and touch and taste and hear and see, and while he might have entertained spiritual ideas from other canines, the prince might remain grounded. His mind was clay, ready to be molded toward whatever ventures the gods and fates saw fit. It was a cliché, but it was true for one who hadn’t even yet learned how to shift.
There would be time for traveling, time for sailing over the edge of the world. He might have desired to grow up, but there were long months yet before all the mysteries and magics in the world concerned the sun-blessed boy.
He smiled broadly at her approval of his behavior because, despite all of his boundary-testing and cocky dominance, he did want to be good and nice in others’ eyes. He was raised by moral parents, shaped into someone polite and kind, though he had his flaws and potential for sins like everyone else. He could proudly say that he behaved in the d’Arte lands, though. He was better behaved than Terra, at least—though he didn’t think badly of her for the trouble she seemed to get in. It made her fun, and she was good at it—good at not almost being eaten by a bobcat or an ocean, at least.
His tail wagged and curled as she nuzzled him, and he beamed and nipped the tip of her nose playfully. “And then deer, and then a moose!” Skoll barked. He began to run in circles on the dock until he nearly tripped, and then his growing body plastered itself to the wooden boards as he looked suspiciously at the sea. As his mind wandered along the track of food, however, he blinked and smiled at his companion. “And a whale! I could hunt a whale—’cept I never hunted fish before even.” His smile quickly turned sheepish.
I can go the distance.
I will face the world:
fearless, proud and strong.
I will please the gods;
I can go the distance,
till I find my hero's welcome,
right where I belong.
Image courtesy of Stuck in Customs
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