Ljota

The day had been taken by the obsidian sheet of night, and the woods that protected Gelvira’s hut, grew quiet of the birds chirping as the creatures of night patrolled instead. She found herself being here less, as she took frequent trips to visit her love, at her new home, situated in a small hamlet on the outskirts of Bree.

At spear training, Heriwulf had talked about the deep, steady breathing that helps a warrior maintain both the body and the mind. How you breathe is one of the easiest things to learn, and the hardest things to keep up in the heat of the moment, and most important things that made a good warrior a great one, though no one knew it. You need both air and calm to survive the challenges; and steady, deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, give both.

Rynel was growing on her, both figuratively and literally — the pup was getting undeniably bigger, though he still barely weighed anything in Ljota’s lap. She was actually starting to look forward to having him and Breon in the hut, but for right now the shed would suffice.

In the space of a single sennight, everything in Heriwulf's life had been turned upside down. They were all good changes, but they were exhausting, too, full of risks and challenges, demands and urgency, and the promise of things ending much better, soon. Or becoming the source of yet more regrets to hang about his neck.

Time had passed, giving Gelvira the opportunity to both calm down and sober up, yet her judgement still remained clouded. That is because she decided to leave Faron's hut and venture back toward the Lodge, but she was far from willing to make amends with Ljota.

((Role-Play that has been logged from the 7th February 2020))

Ljota meanders out of the back and pauses in the main hall.

There was no question in Heriwulf's mind anymore. He should never have let Faron make him promise to offer himself as chieftain. Or he should never have accepted the position. Now he wondered, though, was it really about that position, farcical as it was, or was it just him?

Heriwulf is using the hand-cart to bring archery targets and hay bales out into a clear space within the stockade, and setting up the targets atop the hay bales.
Jessandra breaks off the sizing up she's been doing with Marney and wanders over. "Need help with that? Or would it be too much bother to tell someone else how?"
Heriwulf | Hundr runs up to Jessandra as soon as she approaches and gives her a cheerful yip. Brenn and Dalgo, on patrol around the stockade (but mostly staying near the entrance) don't seem much interested in her.

Fortunately, pups don't take a lot of care, especially in the first few fortnights when their eyes aren't even open yet and they can't do much more than waddle and nurse. But that's also unfortunate, because tending the pups was the best part of Heriwulf's day.

Ljota didn't sleep. After Hildegund left, the skin-changer only stretched out her long legs and stared at her bedroom ceiling in the dark. She hadn't felt like starting a fire when she came in, and she certainly wasn't going to bother with it now.