[Wild Roses] somewhere in the Trickwood . . .

Aug 19, 2009 21:02

Title: Winter comes knocking
'Verse/characters: Trickwood Unification; Ruadhan, Ilne
Prompt: 66D "snow"
Word Count: 819
Notes: Apparently the lady wolf's name from waiting for the yelling to stop is Ilne, which is Nenets/Siberian in origin.

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The first snow of the season fell with uncharacteristic abandon, transforming a chilly evening's expectation of a chillier morning into a startlingly cold morning, the kind that saw even the ordinarily two-legged wolves on four feet and compacted into furry lumps half-buried in new drifts.

He swore a fire alight, kicked wood into the pit to keep it that way--something black, hairy and roughly the size of his fist scuttled away from the woodpile as he did, and he strongly considered shooting the whatever it was--before he started taking stock of the camp and the people in it.

Two smaller fires still burned, remains of the night watch's work, and the dawn watch was eying him like they actually expected him to be able to make it stop snowing.

As he was neither of his younger brothers, one of whom spoke air and the other of whom spoke water, he just grimaced, tightened his coat's ties, and went looking for a very particular furry lump.

When he finally found it, having startled a couple of others and dragged one closer to a fire by his hind feet, he prodded a flank with the toe of his boot. "Ilne."

"What." she replied without moving her tail from its position covering her nose.

"We need to get up and get moving."

" . . . milord prince, I didn't even wake up when I changed shapes last night," she growled, "what makes you think I'm moving now?"

"The prospect of getting somewhere better sheltered before we're really stuck?" he replied, and heard her growl a curse under her breath before she rose, shook herself free of the snow she'd nested in.

"Do you want the--" he broke off as she gave him a flat look down her muzzle, and she gave the barest eye-flick of obedience before she sank back down on her haunches, threw back her head, and howled.

Half the camp twitched, human, horse and wolf alike, and several snowbanks erupted as wolves jerked awake and upright before their brains engaged.

"Good morning," she sang, loudly enough his teeth rattled a little in his skull, "The prince says pack up or freeze!"

He raised his hands slowly to his temples, rubbed circles in front in his ears, yawned to try to pop them. "A little warning?"

"Only in summer, my lord, being cold shortens my patience and my temper," she growled up at him, then stood up on all four feet and shook vigorously to get all the snow off her haunches. "Shall we, or were you planning to just stand there 'til you made yourself a carving in honour of desh-crazy?"

"Go sit by the fire, Ilne," he told her, trying not to laugh at how very disgruntled she looked. "I'll see if I can find you heavier gear than your fur."

She stalked off, chivvying several of the smaller, younger wolves with her, and he set to helping strike tents and load up horses and travois. Everyone was already wearing the heaviest of their gear, unfortunately, and Ilne gave him a very flat look when he offered to roll her up in his wool bedding blankets and carry her pillion behind him.

"I'd rather stay moving," was all she said, though, and he nodded, helped her kick snow over the fire as they finished packing.

She did, too, traded places more than once with the outrunners, scouts and trailing wolves, kept herself and the others all moving all day; he suspected they wouldn't have made the caves if she hadn't, and told her so as he began the task of building an insulating wall of compressed snow to shelter the horses for the night.

She gave the shrug only the four-legged could, sinuous ripple of spine and shoulders that didn't bob her any closer to the ground. "Should see pack-witches work--I just yell. They bite."

He leaned his weight on the form--a repurposed grain-storage tub from the back of the cave that had yet to burst under desh-blooded fingers--frowned down at her. "Is Bellado--"

She laughed. "No. Daughter of one, yes, but she's not. Her tail says she'd liked to have been, though."

He flipped the tub over, carried the block to the wall and tapped it into place. "Good to know."

"It gets out t'was me that told you and I'll leave stitchmarks in your calf, human."

He chuckled as he started again. "Not afraid of catching the crazy?"

"Well, the lord Hernén hasn't started foaming at the mouth yet, and he's been around long enough it should show if it's going to," she said philosophically, and he chased her off towards the fires in the cave with the tub raised.

She was grinning as she ran, tail flagged and tongue lolling, which was such an improvement over that morning he couldn't grudge how she'd got there, even if he really should tell his younger brother about the rumours.

ilne, ruadhan, list d, wild roses, trickwood unification

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