12-26-2009, 12:22 AM
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 Today was the day. The alpha of the Snow-capped Pine had reached agreement with his company the day before. Today would be their last day of rest in Souls territory. Today they would set off, back toward the southern tip of the peninsula where they would contact the transport service and be transported back over the deep waters again, and from there begin their long march home. It was a shame that Aivyr would not come with them, but he had yet to escort Skirnir back to his home, and from there, Jantus was unsure of where his path would take him. Would he stay with StoneTree, or immediately return to the Kilbornes? He didn't know. What he did know was that they had lingered too long. He wanted to see his daughters again, and he hoped that Vel would still be home by the time he returned. He supposed it was also possible that their enemies had struck at them after their leader had left, but by the time he had gone on this trip all of their serious enemies had been contended with for the moment, and he didn't expect any new ones to crop up for a while. Besides all that, they had Samson to lead them, and that should be more than enough. None of Skoll's offspring had chosen to stay, and he supposed it was just as well. What did this place hold for them? Naught but ashes, as far as he could see. No one seemed to remember Skoll as anything more than a name on a stone. The members of Phoenix Valley they'd met had been respectful, but there was no memory there, no familiarity. They had hoped to meet some wolves here who he had called friend, but it hadn't happened. He supposed it was the lot of a fighter that everything he created should dissolve when his strength did: it made sense for one who had built everything in their life from that strength. Still, it seemed a dreary end for someone who had lived such a life, who had learned such skill and had done such deeds. Skoll was only wolven, Jantus knew that...but it didn't change the fact that there had been a sort of aura about him, a sense of destiny or something extraordinary. He wasn't supernatural, godlike, or anything of the sort: even the vague sort of mysticism engendered by seeing his prodigious skill had been washed away to some degree when Jantus saw four other people fighting the same way. It made sense to him, in retrospect, why they might chase him down over those secrets of their trade: it wasn't something you could learn on your own, it was the result of generations of focus on one activity, the combined labors of hundreds of wolves all working toward one ultimate goal. In light of all that, Skoll seemed a little less incredible, and it all seemed to become a little more real. Still...something of his legend stayed with Jantus, and he felt that it always would. He was only wolven, but it had been easy for the Pine to elevate his status. It had shown him how a seed of something unbelievable could turn even a regular wolf into a legend. It had shown him how a little bit of inspiration can go a long way. |