08-01-2024, 05:15 PM
[[Continued from Wild Heart]]
Tenzin fell easily into the routine of travel, a soothing aid for the confusion still in her aching heart, and a good distraction for her human worries. She had not truly realised how stifling she found the city until she left it. The freedom lifted her lungs with a breath of joy, but it did not remedy the hollow she carried inside now. A reminder of what had been left behind.
A reminder of what might have been irretrievably lost.
Back in Leh they had lived communally in the monastery, but many years of solitary living had passed since then. At heart Tenzin was a nomad, used to her own company and content to run with her brethren when she could. She’d lived on the wild edges, focused by the hunt to which she pledged her life and energies, and enlivened by the companionship of the wolves who called her sister. There had been no discontent in that old life. When she needed it she sought the succour of human company in the rural lands where elders still knew something of the rākṣasa hatyārā’s work, and treated her with distant kindness. These pangs of loneliness were new. It felt strangely like the grief she had lived through after Silver’s death.
The wolves guided, and she followed the trail they left for her. They did not use the human names for places, but Tenzin was accustomed to interpretation of their shared language and how to use it to navigate the journey. The new packs she encountered found it an unusual delight, how fluently she aligned with them without becoming lost to herself, as so many of the kin still did. The excited ripple of Star Dancer comes that went ahead of her, especially amongst the pups, made her smile for the welcome received.
Once in the dream she met an old wolf, older than Silver, with a far more cantankerous tongue. She sat at his paws, hands on her knees, to accept his wisdom and direction. Then, towards the end of her journey she was greeted by a springy, half-grown pup whose excited sendings identified him as one of Chase’s brood. By then her waking body was close to her destination.
Civilisation closed back around her, and though it was not the towering cityscape of Moscow, it took a moment to readjust herself to the throngs of people. Contacts concealed Tenzin’s yellow eyes, but a few still stared at a woman openly draped in so many tattoos. The gazes did not linger over long, though. These people had bigger concerns, evidenced by the signs of recent weather damage battering their harbour and surrounding dwellings. Summer in Siberia was not what it was back home, but it was not the season for storms. Even the ferry to the island had been damaged, only yesterday resuming its crossings. Tenzin’s sharp ears caught murmurings of ill omens as she purchased her ticket.
Ohlkon Island bore similar signs of destruction, and in its isolation far less signs of efficient recuperation. The settlement had no roads to speak of, only dirt tracks lined by wooden houses – something far more akin to the villages Tenzin was used to in India. Supplies were being unloaded from the boat when she alighted on shore. Her brow flickered concern, and she briefly deliberated pausing to offer help, but the pull towards brethren was stronger. One of the kin who had already survived the change likely also knew how to survive the elements, and there were a few wolves here for support, the small resident pack skimming over the ice for good hunting when the lake froze over in the winter months. If the kin had been hurt in the storm, Tenzin was sure she would already know, but she would prefer to see it with her own eyes before delaying to help others.
Beyond the village, great larch and pine trees shadowed the narrow passes, giving way to great swathes of steppe. The long grasses tickled her skin, and beat her heart with the urge to run for the joy of it. Instead she sniffed the air. She did not know exactly where the cabin was, except that it was between the village and the basin of water that curved from a great rock. When the dappled light of the trees once more shaded her shoulders, Tenzin’s mind unfurled and reached out in greeting. The pack who called this place home might not be close, but they would be able to guide her step.
Tenzin fell easily into the routine of travel, a soothing aid for the confusion still in her aching heart, and a good distraction for her human worries. She had not truly realised how stifling she found the city until she left it. The freedom lifted her lungs with a breath of joy, but it did not remedy the hollow she carried inside now. A reminder of what had been left behind.
A reminder of what might have been irretrievably lost.
Back in Leh they had lived communally in the monastery, but many years of solitary living had passed since then. At heart Tenzin was a nomad, used to her own company and content to run with her brethren when she could. She’d lived on the wild edges, focused by the hunt to which she pledged her life and energies, and enlivened by the companionship of the wolves who called her sister. There had been no discontent in that old life. When she needed it she sought the succour of human company in the rural lands where elders still knew something of the rākṣasa hatyārā’s work, and treated her with distant kindness. These pangs of loneliness were new. It felt strangely like the grief she had lived through after Silver’s death.
The wolves guided, and she followed the trail they left for her. They did not use the human names for places, but Tenzin was accustomed to interpretation of their shared language and how to use it to navigate the journey. The new packs she encountered found it an unusual delight, how fluently she aligned with them without becoming lost to herself, as so many of the kin still did. The excited ripple of Star Dancer comes that went ahead of her, especially amongst the pups, made her smile for the welcome received.
Once in the dream she met an old wolf, older than Silver, with a far more cantankerous tongue. She sat at his paws, hands on her knees, to accept his wisdom and direction. Then, towards the end of her journey she was greeted by a springy, half-grown pup whose excited sendings identified him as one of Chase’s brood. By then her waking body was close to her destination.
*
Civilisation closed back around her, and though it was not the towering cityscape of Moscow, it took a moment to readjust herself to the throngs of people. Contacts concealed Tenzin’s yellow eyes, but a few still stared at a woman openly draped in so many tattoos. The gazes did not linger over long, though. These people had bigger concerns, evidenced by the signs of recent weather damage battering their harbour and surrounding dwellings. Summer in Siberia was not what it was back home, but it was not the season for storms. Even the ferry to the island had been damaged, only yesterday resuming its crossings. Tenzin’s sharp ears caught murmurings of ill omens as she purchased her ticket.
Ohlkon Island bore similar signs of destruction, and in its isolation far less signs of efficient recuperation. The settlement had no roads to speak of, only dirt tracks lined by wooden houses – something far more akin to the villages Tenzin was used to in India. Supplies were being unloaded from the boat when she alighted on shore. Her brow flickered concern, and she briefly deliberated pausing to offer help, but the pull towards brethren was stronger. One of the kin who had already survived the change likely also knew how to survive the elements, and there were a few wolves here for support, the small resident pack skimming over the ice for good hunting when the lake froze over in the winter months. If the kin had been hurt in the storm, Tenzin was sure she would already know, but she would prefer to see it with her own eyes before delaying to help others.
Beyond the village, great larch and pine trees shadowed the narrow passes, giving way to great swathes of steppe. The long grasses tickled her skin, and beat her heart with the urge to run for the joy of it. Instead she sniffed the air. She did not know exactly where the cabin was, except that it was between the village and the basin of water that curved from a great rock. When the dappled light of the trees once more shaded her shoulders, Tenzin’s mind unfurled and reached out in greeting. The pack who called this place home might not be close, but they would be able to guide her step.
![[Image: twolf.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/twolf.jpg)
|Tenzin|
If they stand behind you, protect them; if they stand beside you, respect them; if they stand against you, destroy them.