The sky danced above him, as the Southern Lights lit up the night. Usually, Danek loves them, he loves their bright colors, he loves the way they shift and the patterns they create, he especially loves sitting with his grandmother on nights that they’re particularly active and listen as she tells him about them and how they symbolise the tribes’ connection to the spirits (That’s also the part where she pointedly adds that that’s why it is so important to keep up with their spiritual tradition – eliciting a couple of groans from some of the other children). 

Right now, though…he wishes that it was dark, so dark that not even the moon or stars were visible and you weren’t able to even see your hand if it was poking you in your eye. The dark is much better equipped for sulking than these stupid, beautiful lights.

A heavy sigh escaped the boy as he curled up a little tighter into a ball, pulling the hood of his coat over his eyes and pressing his forehead against his knees in an attempt to block out the sight. The soft fur-lined garment helping to provide the darkness that he had been craving, improving his mood by the slightest amount. If only all of his problems were as easily fixed as that, he might actually have been able to enjoy the sight above him.

Barely a minute after he finally managed to create the perfect sulking environment though, the sound of crunching snow penetrated the material of his hood. Immediately, he shot up and scrambled to his feet, all of the stories passed around by the older children about rogue owl-wolves looking for easy prey in village children, and evil spirits leaving the spirit-world for a quick child-shaped snack flashed through his mind, only to vanish at the sight of his grandmother’s smiling face.

“I’m sorry my little arctic-seal, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Pouting slightly, Danek plopped back onto the ground, drawing his hood back up now that he saw the lack of danger present. “I wasn’t scared Gran, I knew it was you so I just stood up to be polite.”

Nodding at her grandson’s words, even though he wasn’t facing her to see it, Sina eased herself down next to him. “Of course, my mistake.”

Danek didn’t give much of a response apart from a hum in acknowledgment, but he did scoot closer to her after a minute, pressing his shoulder against hers. They sat like that for a while, a comfortable silence between them. This is why he loved his Gran so much. She never pushed him, or prodded him with uncomfortable questions, she just lets him exists. That is probably the reason that after a few minutes, he was the one to break the silence. “Dad likes Kota more than me, doesn’t he?”

A miniscule frown crossed Sina’s face before she schooled her expression. What did that darn son-in-law of hers do now? “Now what in the world makes you think that?”

“Kota the best in training, nobody can beat him in a fight and he’s always going on and on about how he’s gonna be just like dad and dad just thinks that he’s perfect, ‘cause he’s always telling me to ‘be more like your brother’. Today at training, I sucked. Everybody beat me! Dad was watching too and he just gave his ‘dissapointed’ sigh! It was awful! And…and I heard him complaining to mom, the other day, about how I’m wasting my potential by hanging around healers all the time instead of taking my training seriously, but I am! I am trying, Gran, but I still suck at it! I’m not a warrior and I don’t wanna be one either!”

Sniffling slightly after his rant, Danek, buried his head back into his knees, subtly trying wipe off a stray tear while he’s at it. He doesn’t want Gran to worry if she sees it, it was just a snowflake that got into his eye after-all. Nevertheless, Gran being Gran, must have still sensed it, if the soft hand on top of his head was any indication. “Now you listen to me, Danek, your brother might be a fine warrior in the making, but – and I say this with love – he is far from the brightest star in the sky. That boy would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his neck, not to mention the other day when he almost set an igloo on fire – how he managed that is still a mystery to me.” 

Danek snorted slightly at that. Mom was so mad. “In my opinion it is a very good thing that you aren’t any more like your brother. After all, if you were the South Pole would be without one of the most promising young healers to be born, after me, of course.”

“But dad-“

“But nothing, my little arctic-seal. It’s important to listen to your elders and this elder is telling you, that your father can be an idiot at times – a side-effect of getting knocked around so much during his own training – and as such, you shouldn’t put too much stock into what he says.”

Danek wasn’t completely convinced, but his grandmother getting annoyed at his father would never not be funny, so the smile that crossed his face – albeit small – was real.

“Now that that’s out of the way, what do you say about heading back inside? There is a steaming bowl of Stewed Sea Prunes with your name on it.”

Nodding, Danek quickly stood up before helping his grandmother up as well and together the two of them headed back.

“Hey, Gran…thanks…”

His grandmother looked down at him, opening her mouth with a response, one that he wouldn’t hear as the world faded around him and he woke up, staring straight into the ceiling of his bunk on the water-tribe boat. 

He'd almost forgotten about that...he wonders what made him dream of it now?

[hr]

Bright blue eyes looked up at the sky, tracing the swiftly forming clouds that when paired with the swiftly setting sun was quickly causing the world to darken around him. All of his senses were tingling, sensing the approaching rain and he cursed. Around him people were moving around either heading home or to whatever activities they had planned for the night. Danek was almost jealous of them. 

It was once again time for the Southern Water Tribe’s annual journey to their sister tribe in the north and in an attempt to learn more about their different methods of healing, see more of the world and put a little space between himself and his father for a little while, Danek volunteered to join the fleet. Things were going great so far, apart from the men he bunks with not knowing the meaning of picking up after themselves and not to leave their dirty socks on top of his bunk! Dangit Zadaq!

…There might be the slightest possibility that being stuck on a boat was making him just a little stir-crazy…Nevertheless, that is exactly why the whole crew had been so excited to stop by this port-town to resupply and relax for a day or two before setting sail again. Danek had made sure to take full advantage after helping restock some of the ships supplies. He was in the process of exploring the forest on the outskirts of the town, taking a couple of pressings of a few different plants and storing them in his satchel to ask the locals about them and their properties later. It was as the sun had just passed the halfway mark in the sky when his activities were halted by a noise from the roadside.

An old man, on his way back home, had taken a wrong step and twisted his ankle. It wasn’t any trouble to use the water in his waterskin – that he keeps strapped to his hip - to patch him up, but what followed was. The old guy had looked at him with such big, sad eyes that Danek couldn’t refuse helping him carry his belongings back to his home…a good few hours away, where he was then passed around from one family member to the next, all looking at him like he was the moon spirit personified when he was able to cure them of their minor ailments. Hours had passed by the time he finally managed to escape, the grateful extended family having insisted on feeding him as payment after he finished the treatments and declined their kind offer to spend the night as the sun was already starting to set.

As nice as they were though, he needed to get back to the ship. Their loving captain had made it clear that he had no qualms leaving any stragglers behind and Danek believed him. Unfortunately, he didn’t even make it outside of the old man’s village before he spotted the storm clouds rolling in, which brings him to his current predicament. 

All of his common sense is telling him not to go walking through an unfamiliar forest, but he has enough pride to not go back the old man’s family with his tail between his legs…which doesn’t leave a lot of options. A tan hand reached up to run through his dark-brown, shoulder-length hair, some of the strands starting to escape the leather tie holding it back in a half-ponytail, before he straightened up. Adjusting his dark blue shirt – made out of polar leopard pelt with white trimmings - and dusting off some dust from his dark pants and dark brown sturdy leather boots, he adjusted his grip on his satchel and started walking towards and entered a tavern he saw earlier. Maybe he’d get lucky and they’d let him wait out the storm.