Winter, Year 7; 7 years 5 months: Scar on cheek from a fight with a lunar porcupine.
Winter, Year 5; 5 years 6½ months - Fyrstur leaves home.
Spring, Year 4; 4 years 7½ months - I've been careful picking my fights--I've grown just wise enough to know another close battle could disable me worse than the loss of my eye and leave my pack getting by without me. But I know now that sometimes a fight cannot be avoided. Bears are dangerous under the most ideal circumstances and a polar bear is by far the most dangerous of them all, but I had no choice in fighting this brute. Food should have been plentiful for him; there was no reason for him to come after me, but he did exactly that. I wasn't sure I would survive--looking back, I'm not certain how I did survive. He left his mark across my face and very nearly took my other eye but his body miraculously gave up before mine did. Perhaps there was something wrong with the beast. I'm only too grateful to leave with the scar and my life.
Summer, Year 3; 4 years 0½ months - It has only been two months since the loss of my eye; I shouldn't have been fighting at all but those little silver foxes just rub me the wrong way sometimes. He caught me on my blind side and left a scar on my hind leg. It was the last achievement of his puny life.
Summer, Year 3; 3 years 11½ months - I was no stranger to a fight--already have a few scars to tell of my victories--and certainly a hooved animal should have been no problem. Even big as he was, I underestimated that manitoban elk bull. He put up a harder fight than I was ready for. I was, of course, victorious, but I paid for my arrogance with my left eye.
Winter, Year 2 - Our second litter is born mid-winter; there are four pups, two boys and two girls. It is not an ideal time for new pups but we will do our best to see them through. As young as they are I can already see that they will grow big. I'm certain they are larger than Fyrstur and Hreinn were at birth--a commendable feat on Fjaðrir's part. Both females are pale, like their mother. The largest boy is grey with white markings like Fyrstur, and the other dark grey with striking black markings down his back. We will name them when they have grown in personality and we are more certain of their survival.
Summer, Year 2 - A strange female was found on a hunt by the boys this morning. She is a pale grey, almost silver, with many shades to her coat and a faint beige hint on her legs and paws. She acts quite confident, perhaps the reason the boys were so taken by her, and the family has accepted her as an omega. She is called Áreki, and we believe she will be helpful as a third hunter with the boys.
Summer, Year 1; 1 year 2 months - Our first litter was born in deep summer--two small pups that made this adventure we set on seem all the more real. We would be a true pack, all our own, and I had never seen Fjaðrir happier. The land was generous and our meager hunting skills learned in youth were enough to keep all of us fed.
Spring, Year 1; 1 year - I found her trespassing on the far reaches of my pack's territory--pale and beautiful like the high mountain snows to the west of our spring dens. She was confident and unafraid when I confronted her; fully aware of her wrong and yet entirely unapologetic. I should have warned her off our land, chased her away for her brazen disregard for our territory, but her confidence gave me pause. What others would have seen as threat, I saw as bravery, and she showed no real intention toward violence. She seemed as intrigued with me as I was with her and after a time I was able to convince her to meet the rest of my pack. Fjaðrir.
The pack received her well and her personality seemed to blossom in their presence. She was outgoing and energetic, but it quickly became apparent to me that she had no intention to stay. It had been her decision, she told me, to leave her own pack--her desire to strike out on her own--and now she wanted me to join her. I had never considered leaving my pack before; it wasn't something I wanted, nor felt ready for. Her fanciful stories of freedom and adventure were hardly convincing, but the thought of her leaving tugged at me. I knew I couldn't let her go but she refused to stay and so we set out together.
