Liutheri
"An imperfect talent" is it enough to get by?
It seems the peak is close, there's nothing ahead
no, no..."
It seems the peak is close, there's nothing ahead
no, no..."
@Rea @Ira and any vanderfell wolves that want in
Liutheri had been an eager puppy, like most his age. When his coming of age had arrived, even the stoic pup he was known to be could not help but seem starry-eyed and full of wonder. He had waited for that moment for most of his life. To be of use to his pack. Once he had proven himself he could payback his adopted pack for all they had done for him. Liutheri had always felt like a waste of resources. Even with the privilege of an adopted family he could still not help but feel like an outcast. His personality and appearance was different in far too many ways for him to not notice and be self-conscious about. When one of his adopted brothers, Ries, had gotten sick, it had caused his heart to become even more guarded. He had been powerless to do anything to be useful. Useful to Ries or his actual brother in an earlier time, Trygve.
But this would be different, he could become an adult now and actually be helpful, be useful. Ira would be proud of him. He wanted to protect and prevent pain for as many wolves as possible. And in a silent voice, he thought...maybe he could actually be a Vanderfell wolf. Not just an outsider who was picked up off from the side in pity. Such illogical hopes is what they all felt like, but the child could not keep them at bay. As he was given his task, to retrieve a cougar's skull in Skelmir's pass he remembered the feeling of resolve and determination that overwhelmed him. He would know it when he saw it, apparently being entangled with vines as if to be ensnared for all eternity.
With that all said and done, he had left, seeming more serious if possible. As he found himself inside the labyrinth days and nights begun to chase each other. Weeks passed and he feared he would never find it. His weaknesses screamed inside of him. The Fear the rejection, the failure, the spite. His entire value was resting on this ceremony. He endured, he remembered to look in the direction of growing moss and to leave behind markings for him to take note of. Eventually he found it, the skull. Overcome from the excitement and relief, he had yanked it from the crevice it had been wedged in. Big mistake. The sound of crunching could be heard; sudden momentum causing Liutheri to roll a little ways away. A piece of vine entangled bone in his mouth, the rest crushed and crumbled to shards. He had broken it. With a noise he didn't even know he was capable of making, he hurried over, trying with a feverish desperation to put all the pieces back together, logic be damned. He had to fix it, fix it. But all he did was make it worse, shards gave birth to more shards and his dreams had now been solidified into the broken mess before him.
Time blurred for Liutheri after that. There was no pit blacker for him to be swallowed up by than the one he had created in that moment. Overcome from grief and shame, the adolescent never returned back home, because it wasn't his home. What kind of Vanderfell wolf failed their coming of age ceremony? None. Perfection and self-esteem was Liutheri's downfall. He proceeded to lament about for months, and would have done so for even longer until a strange dream had crept into his mind one night. A dream of Vanderfell Woods wrapped up in carnage and flames. Wolves he knew and loved scattered about like dead flies. Having woken in a cold sweat his heart had wept at the dream. And Liutheri had realized...even if he was a failure, he still had a life to give to Vanderfell Woods. Maybe they wouldn't want him back, maybe they would even kill him in his sensitive mind's sense, but to protect such a sacred place...it was all he knew, all he could fathom to do with is life.
Thus here was Liutheri today, on the familiar trail up towards the summit. Each step requiring more courage than the previous. He had wanted to howl to alert his presence, but he did not have the energy. The adolescent had basically become a yearling by now, and living the life of a young loner had not been kind. His fur was ragged, dirt and scabbed wounds clumping fur together, his body was frightfully scrawny from lack of nutrients, and a limp followed due to his right shoulder taking a previous tumble. He tried not to think of what he looked liked, of how pathetic he must seem.
As time went on, he was wondering how far away was he from the summit, it shouldn't take as long as it was, but the lack of strength and hesitance made his pace slow at best. He needed a break. The malnourished wolf bent on shaky legs before laying down unceremoniously. Just a quick rest...Something was telling him not to sleep but the temptation was so sickeningly sweet. His bright eyes fought, staring ahead at nothing.
the staff team luvs u
