Idol Week 17: It's Always Been Enough
Shades of green dominate the mountain forest in summer. Light yellowish green in the new leaves, old tired green of conifers, dark olive shades in the mosses clinging to the rocks, true pure green in the feathery ferns, blue-green in the broad-leafed saplings reaching for the sun. Other colors are interspersed in cacophony of green, namely brown in the trunks, branches, and stems along with the rich loamy color of the earth and duff, with splashes of gray in the rocks. Despite the limited palette, it's one of the most beautiful places in the world.
Unfortunately for the wolf that was walking along the trail leading to the waterfalls, green is one of the colors that canines can't see. The forest may have been just shades of yellow and gray to him, but his sense of smell more than compensated for that lack. There was a riot of scents that rivaled the riot of green denied him in this form: the duff that covered the ground, a fallen log, new leaves and evergreen needles, hundreds of flowers, all the animals that scurried among the duff and treetops. His nose was so sensitive he could tell there were seventeen squirrels above him, an owl sleeping in the tree next to him, two rabbits under a nearby bush, and five mice in their burrow under a boulder.
Yes, this was the best place in the world. The wolf felt so good that he flopped down and rolled in the duff. Oooooooooohhhhhhh, that felt divine. To the cold hells with dignity, now he could finally scratch that unreachable spot on his back. He ruched around on the ground for a while before leaping back to his feet and shaking all the leaves out of his fur. Nothing like a good roll.
Life as a wolf was so much simpler than life as a human. Wolves didn't complicate their lives nearly as much as Humans (or Elves) did. Especially if those Humans or Elves were noble. Not that he regretted his rank. He had been a commoner before he was a Markgraf and the rank did make some things easier, like basic survival. But with that rank came responsibility piled upon responsibility, expectations piled upon expectations. He had worked hard over the last two decades at fulfilling those responsibilities and expectations but it still felt like an uphill climb. Especially when he had to take care of his mate at the same time. Not that she wasn't perfectly capable of caring for herself, but sometimes she lost her grip on reality and had to be guided back.
That was why they went into the woods every summer. Here they could get away from people and be themselves, the way they had been years ago when they first wandered the woods together. They were working then, as they were working now, but the location and the solitude made work a pleasure. Especially since it meant they could shed all the restrictions that bound them the rest of the year. As a wolf he could sense the harmonies of the Earth and find all the places that needed healing more easily, and here his mate could reveal her true powers to protect the ley pattern the way she was supposed to. She could enter every node in the forest if she wanted to and no one would be terrified; he could Shift to wolf and absorb all her magical charges without worrying that anyone would find out that he was her familiar. Hells, he could jump in the ley line with her and no one would care.
Speaking of, it was almost time to make camp for the night.
There was a good spot near a rocky part of the stream half a mile downstream from the falls and twenty feet away from a good-sized ley line. He pawed at the ground until the line rose to the surface and stepped inside its white glow. A moment later a tall, burly man with brown hair and a thick mustache stepped out of the line. He was completely naked.
Another benefit to being in the deep woods: he didn't have to make sure he Shifted where he stashed his clothes. He hadn't brought any with him anyway. His wife would bring them when she came through the line. Half an hour later he had cleared the leaves and rocks from their campsite, marked the territory to keep any other predators away, brought in a pile of fir boughs to make a springy mattress under their bedrolls, and was enjoying a quick bath in the cold stream. Thistle was sitting on a rock watching him when he emerged from under the water.
"I don't know how you can stand that," she said.
He shook the water out of his hair. "Cold water's good for you. Wakes you up."
"It's midafternoon. If you're not awake by now, there's no hope for you."
He stepped out of the stream. "Maybe I'm giving you a chance to enjoy the view," he said.
"Oh I'm enjoying it, trust me," she replied, looking him up and down. "Here, have a towel. Your clothes are in that pack over there."
"Thanks." He dried off and laid the towel in a sunny spot on the boulder to dry. "There's a good fishing spot in that pool up near the falls, if you're interested."
"And how did you know I wanted fish tonight?" she laughed.
"I think I know you pretty well after twenty years, Thistle," Vik said. He tied the waistband of his pants and pulled out a shirt. "I also saw your poles lying on top of the packs."
"Good. Hand 'em over and let's get us some trout," she said.
And so began their annual vacation when they healed the land, the lines, and their minds.
Unfortunately for the wolf that was walking along the trail leading to the waterfalls, green is one of the colors that canines can't see. The forest may have been just shades of yellow and gray to him, but his sense of smell more than compensated for that lack. There was a riot of scents that rivaled the riot of green denied him in this form: the duff that covered the ground, a fallen log, new leaves and evergreen needles, hundreds of flowers, all the animals that scurried among the duff and treetops. His nose was so sensitive he could tell there were seventeen squirrels above him, an owl sleeping in the tree next to him, two rabbits under a nearby bush, and five mice in their burrow under a boulder.
Yes, this was the best place in the world. The wolf felt so good that he flopped down and rolled in the duff. Oooooooooohhhhhhh, that felt divine. To the cold hells with dignity, now he could finally scratch that unreachable spot on his back. He ruched around on the ground for a while before leaping back to his feet and shaking all the leaves out of his fur. Nothing like a good roll.
Life as a wolf was so much simpler than life as a human. Wolves didn't complicate their lives nearly as much as Humans (or Elves) did. Especially if those Humans or Elves were noble. Not that he regretted his rank. He had been a commoner before he was a Markgraf and the rank did make some things easier, like basic survival. But with that rank came responsibility piled upon responsibility, expectations piled upon expectations. He had worked hard over the last two decades at fulfilling those responsibilities and expectations but it still felt like an uphill climb. Especially when he had to take care of his mate at the same time. Not that she wasn't perfectly capable of caring for herself, but sometimes she lost her grip on reality and had to be guided back.
That was why they went into the woods every summer. Here they could get away from people and be themselves, the way they had been years ago when they first wandered the woods together. They were working then, as they were working now, but the location and the solitude made work a pleasure. Especially since it meant they could shed all the restrictions that bound them the rest of the year. As a wolf he could sense the harmonies of the Earth and find all the places that needed healing more easily, and here his mate could reveal her true powers to protect the ley pattern the way she was supposed to. She could enter every node in the forest if she wanted to and no one would be terrified; he could Shift to wolf and absorb all her magical charges without worrying that anyone would find out that he was her familiar. Hells, he could jump in the ley line with her and no one would care.
Speaking of, it was almost time to make camp for the night.
There was a good spot near a rocky part of the stream half a mile downstream from the falls and twenty feet away from a good-sized ley line. He pawed at the ground until the line rose to the surface and stepped inside its white glow. A moment later a tall, burly man with brown hair and a thick mustache stepped out of the line. He was completely naked.
Another benefit to being in the deep woods: he didn't have to make sure he Shifted where he stashed his clothes. He hadn't brought any with him anyway. His wife would bring them when she came through the line. Half an hour later he had cleared the leaves and rocks from their campsite, marked the territory to keep any other predators away, brought in a pile of fir boughs to make a springy mattress under their bedrolls, and was enjoying a quick bath in the cold stream. Thistle was sitting on a rock watching him when he emerged from under the water.
"I don't know how you can stand that," she said.
He shook the water out of his hair. "Cold water's good for you. Wakes you up."
"It's midafternoon. If you're not awake by now, there's no hope for you."
He stepped out of the stream. "Maybe I'm giving you a chance to enjoy the view," he said.
"Oh I'm enjoying it, trust me," she replied, looking him up and down. "Here, have a towel. Your clothes are in that pack over there."
"Thanks." He dried off and laid the towel in a sunny spot on the boulder to dry. "There's a good fishing spot in that pool up near the falls, if you're interested."
"And how did you know I wanted fish tonight?" she laughed.
"I think I know you pretty well after twenty years, Thistle," Vik said. He tied the waistband of his pants and pulled out a shirt. "I also saw your poles lying on top of the packs."
"Good. Hand 'em over and let's get us some trout," she said.
And so began their annual vacation when they healed the land, the lines, and their minds.