Home.
They sighed softly at the sight of their village, looking around at the houses and buildings that had sprung up in their absence. They came back between seasons, but had a cabin on Solace that was easier to get to and from the Canyon in.
They smiled slightly beneath the mask, watching as children ran around and laughed in excitement, the eldest of the group shouting something about how the wolf would get them and the younger children shrieking in fake terror and glee.
A soft chuckle left them, and they pulled their bag higher over their shoulder, going deeper into the village with a calmness about them. A few of the elders waved, calling their name softly in a warm greeting, and they waved right back, calling each by name as they made their way back to their home.
Or well... they tried too.
The children from earlier raced in front of them, and the smallest one, a little girl named Astrid, suddenly tripped and went flying, almost hitting a little stall set up with pastries and rolling to a halt on her knees, kind of stunned before she sat up and looked almost in tears. Her friends had instantly stopped their game, and darted over to her, asking questions about her wellbeing and almost crowding her.
The hunter quickly hurried over and parted the children, kneeling in front of Astrid and tilting her chin up, examining her carefully. “Do you hurt anywhere, Sá litli?” They asked softly, head tilting to the side as they watched her.
She seemed to think about it, then held up her elbow a little bit, “My arm.” She whispered, “And my knee.”
They nodded, carefully looking at the arm presented to them, and then the knee that she pointed to. “I believe, sweet one, you are just a little bruised.” They announced, “But, I am sure Amma Katrin will confirm that, hm? And...” They leaned forward, and slid their mask off, breath much cooler then the spring air around them. “She always has treats hidden away for children who are brave little bardagamenn, hm?”
Astrid nodded, seeming a little more excited at the prospect of food, and then looked to her friends before giggling, and beckoning Bloodhound closer again.
The hunter obliged, smiling slightly and then laughing a little at the whispered request;
“We were playing sheep and wolves... all the sheep had almost been gotten and turned into wolves. I was the last sheep. Could you... be the farmer and protect me? And maybe... roar?”
Bloodhound looked around at the other children, who were a little calmer now that an adult had assessed their friend, and then smiled, making sure that the children all saw the tips of their ( slightly pointier then normal ) canines over their lips. “Oh, you had better run silly wolves~” They kind of cooed, their eyes starting to glow slightly, “For I... am Blóðhundur!” Then they let out a louder snarl that turned into a roar, and the children scattered, all shrieking in delight.
This was a normal occurrence when Bloodhound came home, so none of the adults batted an eye, really.
Astrid laughed and clapped excitedly, giggling from her spot on the ground before kind of letting out a ‘Hey!’ as Hound scooped her up and placed her gently on their shoulders, starting to carry her to the healer’s. “I can walk!” She whined, holding onto their shoulders tightly.
“I know, Frænka, but your Faðir would have my head if he knew I let you go just like that.” They laughed a little. “He loves you very much.”
She grumbled a little, but whispered, “I know.” She perked up a little. “Did you come home to see him?”
A pause, “I came home to see all of you.” Was their soft reply, “You know that siblings do not always get along. You have seen Magnus and Freya.”
“Well that’s just because they’re twins. You and Faðir are different.”
“Well yes, but only because I’m the annoying younger sibling who wanted to change everything.” They joked, sighing as they took their niece off of their shoulders and onto the ground in front of the elder’s house. “Now, go in and tell Katrin what happened. And if you are nice, perhaps she will tell you a story about your father and I.”
Astrid nodded excitedly and darted away, racing up the stairs and calling for the older woman.
Bloodhound sighed softly, watching her go with a soft smile and then adjusting their mask, continuing their trek through the village and the woods beyond it.
They had a stop to make before they could really say they were home.
They soon came upon a cabin, smaller then normal and not as well made as the ones in the village or theirs on Solace, but they had been young when they made it.
It had been a home to more then just them, years ago.
Now it served a different purpose.
They open and shut the door behind themself, carefully taking off their boots, then their mask and helm, and leaving all bulkier equipment by the door, stepping forward until they could set their bag on the ground and pull out the several blankets and furs they had brought, getting in the chair that was in front of the fireplace and making an almost nest.
They gazed at the pictures on the mantle, the familiar faces lost to time, smaller wood carvings and trophies from hunts long passed.
And then their eyes settled on the two jars in the center of the mantle, runes of protection and peace, prosperity and light swirling around the ceramic, and the names of two people carved there. The dates that were etched underneath were only five months, thirteen days apart, but just looking at them made Hound’s heart clench with pain.
But still they came, at each break, and spent their first night home with their spouse and child.
Because they were the two most important things that Hound could never forget.
