Expedition (Norway)

[Sierra]

Parting at that moment in her life had been the hardest things he'd ever done.  She'd never had a friend before, much less someone like Elyse who was more than a friend.  And a pack - she had a pack.  But this was important, Sierra couldn't live off of her pack.  That wasn't her, even if she was nothing really.  Her education was nothing compared to theirs, she could barely help Marta at all.  But that was the life of a doomsdayer.  Sierra didn't regret her upbringing.

She felt more at home in the wilderness anyway.  National Geographic didn't pull out any stops with her flight, or her accommodations.  And they had been over zealous in equipment, but Sierra only took the bare essentials.  Though she did take the solar powered battery with her.  Being able to charge her battery while out in the field would be such a treat.  

Never was missing his friends, but he was excited even after he nearly lost it on the airplane.  Silly pup running in circles on her lap.  He'd been so excited and then so afraid.


And now Sierra was spending her last night in the middle of humanity before she was off into the wilderness alone with never and nature.

[Tristan]

Tristan never learned how the pup came to hide under that wood pile. Nobody in the town bred malamutes. It was like the little gal was conjured by magic. If she was, Tristan didn’t mind. Despite Thorn Paw’s objection to dogs as pets, Tristan missed the companionship of a loyal friend. Once the fuzz ball was bathed, fed and warm, it decided the same of Tristan. 

A comfortable, new spring had settled outdoors, so when Tristan and the pup entered the town’s market, all he had to do was push a sweater hood from his scalp. Gold eyes glinted sharp as he surveyed the interior. Having been here dozens of times since his arrival, he didn’t need his nose to find the meat counter. The pup, Brenna, tugged on her leash excitedly, likely enticed by the same aromas as Tristan. He held her snug and secure, giving her a commanding yip to stay with him. Her nose swiveled up to meet his face questioningly, and the steadfast control in his golden gaze calmed her. He nodded, “good girl,” and they proceeded.

“Jhon,” he greeted the butcher. A middle-aged man in a white uniform and apron looked up, slender butcher’s knife in one hand.
“Tristan! Brother. What have you there?” Despite the counter block, it was hard not to notice Brenna. She sat at his side while they spoke, but her tail wagged eagerly back and forth.

“This is Brenna. She’s a tad hungry. Do you have scraps I can buy up? Want to keep her on a raw diet as much as possible.” Behind Jhon, the counter was stained pink from fresh work. Tristan’s stomach growled. If he had a tail, it may have been wagging as eagerly as Brenna’s.

“Oh sure. We’ve customers over the years arrange to buy up lesser cuts for various reasons. I have some packages ready in the freezer right now.”

The butcher nodded.  “Your regular order is here, too,” and he retrieved a brown paper package tied up with twine. His name was stamped across the top. Tristan swiped the meat and put it to his nose, drinking in the smell deeply. The aroma knocked loose an already fraying hunger. It was all he could do to not tear into the package right there in the store. Meat in Iceland was incredibly expensive unless butchered yourself. It still amazed him how affordable it was in the CCD.

A nod and smile, “Perfect. Thanks Jhon.”

Short time later, he hurried through the remainder of the market and settled up the bill at the front.

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Brenna