The library: it had been a long time since he’d set foot in one. The last time he’d been lucky enough to see one was long ago one his journey to ‘Souls. Despite not being able to read as well as he would like, he could pick out enough from the dusty books to make some sense of what was going on. The feeling of being taken away from the stress of everyday life was incredible, and it was sorely missed by the tundra wolf. So when he had discovered Anathema’s library, he nearly toppled over himself in joy. Unfortunately, it was lacking. There were only a few books, some writing utensils, and two lonely torches for light. Though disappointed, Alduin would make the best of it. It was his duty now to learn and record and fill this place with the knowledge of the pack.

So it was with a grin on his face that he gathered what supplies he could from the shelves and set himself at a table. It had been a while since he’d written anything, and now was as good a time as any to brush up on his skills. He set to work with the simplest of writing basics: the alphabet. He had learned from children’s books back in Alaska when he had made secret trips into what was once known as Anchorage. Carefully, he wrote out each individual letter across a scroll, both capital and lower case. He even began to hum the old song he’d heard in an abandoned classroom that helped him figure out what each letter was. It felt so childish, but it was the only way he’d learned how to get it done. So he shrugged and continued his practice. Better to know it this way than no way at all.

There was an odd feeling that had crept up behind him. It made his hair stand on end and body begin to ready itself for a fight. His ears shot up, swiveling backward slightly to listen for what might be trying to sneak its way to where he was. He heard light breathing, but nothing about it seemed threatening. Had the intruder wished him harm, he certainly would have been locked in battle by now; and, upon hearing the broken speech of a bird, he was certain he was not under attack. So, he finished the last letter of the alphabet before turning in his chair to greet the stranger. He found it strange that the small wolf before him had yet to speak, but stranger still that they were dressed. What was it with the wolves of ‘Souls and being clothed? For the life of him, he would never understand.

“I am simply brushing up on my reading and writing, friend,” he explained. “It has been too long since I’ve done so, and I feared it might have been lost to me. Luckily, my memory did not fail me.”

He smiled kindly as he gestured to the scroll on the table. He was still a little rusty, but practice makes perfect. He was proud of his work, though. He hadn’t come across many wolves that had taken the time to read and write like he had. It was a pity, really. There was so much knowledge to be gained from it! It was unfortunate, and he had high hopes that the wolf before him knew anything about the art.

“Do you know how to read and write?” he asked hopefully.

Honestly, he doubted it. He’d asked the question to many wolves, but the answer was usually the same. They had no time for, or they didn’t feel like it was necessary to live a fulfilling life, or even that they just didn’t care for it at all. The very idea of it was appalling to him, but everyone was allowed their own opinion so he let them go without a lecture. He waited anxiously for the wolf’s answer, hoping that if they did not know how, they would, at the very least, be willing to let him teach it to them.

The she-wolf’s behavior had Alduin somewhat confused. She appeared far too shy and unsure of anything for his liking, and he wondered if he had done something to startle the young girl. He was concerned, but after she spoke it appeared that he had the solution to his problem. The twinkle in her eyes and the fascination painted across her face did not go unnoticed, and Alduin couldn’t help but think that he’d found a student at last. He smiled wide, and lifted himself from the chair after she introduced herself. Then, with the grace of a crane, he lowered himself into the deepest bow he could fathom.

“My dearest lady,” he greeted her as he lifted himself from the bow. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance. You may call me Alduin.”

He took a few steps back from her as he waved a welcoming hand over the desk. He hoped with everything in her heart that she would be just as impatient as he was to start learning the art of literacy. The table waited for Aoi silently, and a fresh scroll had already been placed down for additional practice. The pencil he’d been using before lay at the edge of the desk, sharp and ready to go. Alduin smiled again as he kneeled to the ground beside the table, hoping to make things more comfortable for the girl. He already towered over her enough as it was.

“Might I be so bold as to ask that you take a seat? So long as you are willing to learn, I find myself more than eager to teach.”

He looked at her expectantly, his eyes searching for any sign of hesitation or fear. He’d taught a few others what he knew before, and all they had done was accept his offer then run. They worried that learning such things would make them closer to how the humans had been, and none of them dared continue their lessons. He had high hopes for Aoi, though. Perhaps this one time he would finally have a dedicated student to take under his wing.

Alduin couldn’t help but let out a good-natured laugh. The girl was already proving to be everything he sought in a student: energetic, eager, and passionate. He had high hopes for her, and wondered if she would allow him the honor of being her teacher from now on. The thought was nice, but he wouldn’t have his answer until after the lesson. So for now, he busied himself with watching her take her seat with gusto and anxiously awaiting his instruction. He was quick to begin, and took hold of a pencil for himself as he spoke.

“We will start with the most important aspect of writing: the alphabet,” he stated. “It consists of twenty-six letters which are the basis for any and all words. Without it, you cannot possibly accomplish anything in the literary arts.”

He placed the tip of his pencil on a separate sheet of paper and slowly wrote out the first three letters in both uppercase and lowercase. The task was simple, but vital to understanding everything else she would come across.

“From left to right, the pairs read ‘A’, ‘B’, ‘C’,” he explained as he pointed to each. “The larger letter is called a capital or uppercase letter, and its smaller companion is known as a lowercase letter. I’ll explain their meaning later. For now, try to recreate these letters on your paper in both upper and lowercase. Take your time, and don’t fret about how they turn out.”

He chuckled as he recalled his first attempts at writing. Holding a pencil had been such an awkward thing for his massive paws to manage. It was a wonder that Aoi was able to grasp the utensil with such ease, but it made Alduin believe that she would be nothing short of an amazing writer one day.

“No matter what, I must admit that I am already feeling rather proud of you,” he said kindly. “I have never seen anyone express such enthusiasm for learning than you.”

He fell silent now, knowing that she would need the quiet to concentrate on her task. The first attempt was always the hardest, and he braced himself for any frustration she might convey on her endeavor.

Word count: 461 // +3 points
If there’s anything different you want him to teach her, just say the word

Alduin watched closely as Aoi recreated the letters before her, and he found that couldn’t hide the smile that popped onto his lips as she moved the pencil with more grace than most of his former beginners. He had expected her to go off the page like the others had, but she at least kept the lines within the edges of the paper. He truly believed it to be a great accomplishment for her, and he would have nothing less than for the girl to believe it. So when she commented that she was nothing to be proud of, he shook his head and lifted a paw to pat her gently on the shoulder opposite of her writing hand.

“You have already done very well, my dear,” he stated confidently. “Allow me to prove it to you.”

With great care the Alaskan wolf opened the velvet pouch at his neck and pulled a small, worn piece of parchment that was folded many times. It crackled lightly as he carefully undid the folds, but the paper was sturdy and did not break despite it looking like it would. It was a while before he finished unveiling what was on the page, but it was surely worth the wait. Scrawled nervously across the page was the letter ‘A’—though most would call it a collection of faded wiggly lines in some failed attempt at post-modern art. The letter was huge, taking up the page in its entirety; and needless to say it was hideous.

“This was my first letter,” he admitted proudly. “I tried to copy what I saw in an old human book, but as you can see I was not at all successful.” He laughed softly, recalling the awkwardness of trying to learn on his own. “I was nervous and excited at the same time. Clearly, you can see it in what I hope someone would call lines.”

He stared fondly at the page, recalling quieter times spent in the ruins of human libraries. So many days had come and gone as he sat in the wreckage of books, far too intrigued by the torn and somewhat burnt papers. It was such a shame that most of the information was missing from the books, but Alduin learned what he could from them. With a smile still resting peacefully on his lips, he folded the memory to its original state and placed it back in the pouch.

“You are something to be proud of, Aoi,” he told her. “I will not allow you to tell yourself otherwise.”

Or anyone else for that matter, but it seemed the young wolf needed more self-confidence than anything right now. What kind of teacher would he be if did differently?

“Now,” he continued, “try the rest.”