Peurankasvo

It was not the first time Joutsenpoika was awake at five in the morning by his own choice, though it was still definitely a very rare occasion. What was even more rare, was that he didn’t even feel tired. Not one bit. More like… anxious. Unsure. Questioning his own sanity. Of course Joutsen was questoning whether he had completely lost his mind, and it had nothing to do with getting up so early - but because the cervine was, in fact, about to go out there in the woods to find… it. Him. The red wolf. Completely by his own choice! Eir had already wasted an hour contemplating his plan, half the time he was about to go back to bed and just forget the whole thing, but the other half he felt pretty much obligated to go. To thank, in a way. Or more like pay back a debt Joutsen felt like he owed for getting rescued, by a wolf. An actual canine. None of that made any sense in the young buck’s mind, but in the midst of that anxiety fueled confusion was also curiosity: was the red wolf and his

Days kept dragging on, hours slow like slugs in thick tar, but nights… Those dark, cold, quiet nights were the worst. Every night felt like an eternity, every little worry and thought suddenly weighing a ton as soon as the sun set and the forest fell silent. Mutt had discovered many new ghosts and skeletons in the back of his mind during those nights, and he couldn't tell whether those demons had always lurked in the shadows or if they had only now started popping up like mushrooms on a rainy day. During his times in the battling pits Mutt never had time for his ghosts to catch up on him: the days were full of training and battles, and nights lacked privacy and silence. It never bothered him, though. Thunderous snoring all around him, elbows poking him in their sleep or fiery squabbles igniting in the dead of night. No, it all felt… almost comforting. It was home, no matter how rough or crude, it was where Mutt grew up. It was the only way of living he ever knew. And now, with only

“No no no– Shit, shit! It has to be here somewhere, it has to…” Desperate curses echoed through the snowy forest, as Joutsen tried to dig through fresh piles of snow with his bare hands. It wasn’t even that cold, but the snow itself was still cold enough that it made Joutsen’s fingers tingle and go numb and ache, though it didn’t slow him down or stop him from clawing the soft snow like a bear in attempt to dig itself a very late burrow to snooze in. It had been a few days already, almost a whole week actually, since Eir had fled from those same woods - fled from it. That bloodied beast of a wolf with a flaming coat, who had been an uninvited visitor in the young buck’s daily nightmares. And in his panic and distress, it had taken a few days for Eir to realize how he had left his priceless knife behind. Sure, Joutsen should have told someone about that beast. He should have alerted the whole damn village, but not a single word had escaped his lips. Perhaps it was partly because of