Evergreen had always enjoyed flowers. Even when she’d been young enough to appreciate their colors, she’d found their fragrances far more interesting. Some were sweet enough to notice from several paces away, while others required more effort. She’d learned to recognize more than a few over the years, although there were still some that managed to stump her. Not that she minded. There was something pleasant about having a little mystery left in the world, especially at her age.

She’d come across the little patch of flowers that morning while wandering through what seemed to be a field. Most of the surrounding landscape had already begun to surrender to the colder weather, with frost clinging to the grass in shaded areas and a sharpness to the breeze that promised winter wasn’t far away. Still, tucked along the sheltered side of a rocky slope, a few stubborn wildflowers had managed to hold on. Their fragrance had caught her attention as she passed, and curiosity had drawn her closer. She’d spent some time investigating the little patch, lowering her muzzle to inspect the blossoms and occasionally brushing against them with her whiskers. There was something familiar growing among them, although she couldn’t quite place it.

Eventually, the elderly wolf settled herself in a patch of dry grass with a quiet sigh, grateful for the opportunity to rest her aching joints. Traveling through the Alpines wasn’t quite as easy as it had been when she was younger, and she’d learned to appreciate a good resting place when she found one. The rocks offered some protection from the wind, and the weak afternoon sunlight felt pleasant against her fur. She wasn’t in any hurry, after all. For once, she had nowhere she needed to be and nobody expecting her. It was a strange sort of freedom, one she was beginning to appreciate.

A familiar scent drifted toward her, and Evergreen lifted her head. There it was again. She leaned forward, searching through the grass with her nose until she found a small cluster of flowers. The fragrance reminded her of somewhere she’d lived many years ago, although she couldn’t quite place where. Goddess, there had been so many places, hadn’t there? So many different homes, so many faces she’d once known as well as her own. She wondered how many of those places were still standing, or whether the flowers she’d loved there continued to bloom.

“Well, aren’t you a lovely little thing?” she murmured, brushing her nose against one of the blossoms. “Don’t suppose you could tell me your name, could you?” She chuckled at herself. Talking to flowers now, was she? Perhaps she’d finally gone senile. Although she supposed there were worse partners to be found. Flowers had the decency not to interrupt.

She lowered herself onto her side, content to enjoy the sunlight for a while. Somewhere nearby, a bird called out, followed by another answering from farther away. Evergreen listened with a faint smile, her ears shifting toward the sound. It was a lovely little place she’d found, and she was glad she’d followed her nose instead of continuing along her original path.

The sound of movement eventually reached her, though she made no effort to rise. Her ears turned toward it, and she lifted her muzzle, testing the breeze for an unfamiliar scent. Another traveler, perhaps? Well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d shared an afternoon with a stranger. “If you’ve come for the flowers, I’m afraid I’ve already claimed the best spot,” she called, amusement warming her voice. “Though I suppose there’s room enough for two, if you don’t mind the company of an old woman.”

Bone Reader

The priest was rarely in this neck of the tundra, preferring the mountains and the forests to the flat open plains. But the spirits wander, and the spirits call, so too does he.

Never far, never for long, not any more.

But the knuckles and bones he had thrown pointed him northward, the oldest of his bones crossed together. There were many ways it could be read, but it still was odd that his first tools had all been crossed.

So when he spotted the elder in the distance, he figures this is who the spirits were pointing him to. Life bouncing around the old wolf like a familiar friend, the spirits seemingly happy with the old woman. His dual toned voice answered, softly. I would love the company, if you would have it has he ever met anyone as old? Not living, at least, not in body. The beads dangling from his collar clacked together as he approached, moving to settle down nearby to give her space. I've caught your scent around, it is nice to meet you in person

First had been in Northfall, seemingly having wandered in and escorted out by Raisa, then around Saga's hiding spot where he had been leaving food. Would she recognize his now that he was closer, or had his scent been too fleeting to remember?

I am Valdís and you...the spirits know you He has been told, of course, that just outright saying so was a little..weird. But hey! He told his birds to stay back! That would make it less weird...yeah?

Evergreen’s ears perked at the sound of the stranger’s voice, although she couldn’t help tilting her head a little. Now, that was interesting. She’d met plenty of unusual wolves over the years, but she couldn’t recall ever hearing someone speak quite like that. Two voices, seemingly coming from the same fellow. Well, wasn’t that something? She smiled warmly in his direction, shifting herself a little to make room beside her. “Oh, nonsense, dear. I’d be delighted to have you. Flowers make lovely company, but I’m afraid they’re poor talkers.” She chuckled, settling herself comfortably once more. “Though I suppose that’s not always a bad thing. I’ve known a few wolves who could learn a thing or two from them.”

The soft clattering of something caught her attention as he approached, and she turned an ear toward the sound. His scent was vaguely familiar, too, though she couldn’t immediately place it. That wasn’t particularly surprising. She’d encountered quite a few strangers during her travels lately, and remembering where she’d come across each of them was becoming something of a challenge. Still, it was rather nice to know she’d made enough of an impression for someone to remember her. “Have you, now? Well, I hope I wasn’t causing too much trouble wherever you happened upon it.” There was a playful note to her voice. “I do try to behave myself, but sometimes these old paws have a mind of their own.”

His introduction earned a thoughtful hum from the elderly woman. Valdís. What a lovely name. She was just preparing to offer her own when the rest of his statement registered, and she paused. The spirits know you. That was certainly an interesting thing to hear from someone she’d only just met. She’d encountered wolves with all manner of spiritual beliefs throughout her life, and while she couldn’t claim to understand every one of them, she’d learned that there was often something worth listening to. Still, the thought of spirits knowing her when she didn’t know their names was amusing.

“Well, that’s very kind of them,” she answered pleasantly. “I’m afraid I’ve gotten rather terrible with names in my old age, though. Have we met?” A quiet chuckle escaped her before she shook her head. “Oh, forgive me, dear. I’m only teasing. Evergreen’s the name, though most folks just call me Ev.” She shifted her muzzle toward him, curiosity warming her expression. “Now, you’ve got me wondering. What sort of spirits are we talking about? I’ve been around a good long while, you know. Wouldn’t surprise me if I’ve made a few acquaintances on the other side by now.”

There was no sense of sadness in the observation, but she supposed there might have been once. At her age, death had become something of a familiar companion. She’d buried far too many loved ones to pretend otherwise, and there were days when she found herself wondering what had become of them. Whether they were somewhere peaceful, whether she’d ever have the opportunity to see them again. She’d never been one to dwell too long on questions she couldn’t answer, but that didn’t mean she never thought about them.

“You’ll have to forgive an old woman’s curiosity,” she added, with a gentle twist of her lips. “It’s not every afternoon a young fellow comes along and tells me the spirits know who I am. Usually folks just ask whether I need help finding my way home.”