---

For Svajone

There was a certain, special trauma associated with seeing the ghost of one's deceased parent. Science thus far had not given it a name, but the lingering feeling of horror mixed with a strange, distant numbness was so tangible Aurelia thought she could reach into her own heart and touch it. She had scarcely given herself any time to be alone since the incident; as usual, she responded to this disturbance by throwing herself into busywork, spending the hours hunting, foraging, and otherwise occupying herself so thoroughly she ended each day utterly spent in a dreamless sleep.

Aurelia found herself relieved with another task yet on the horizon - that of the upcoming vote, where Dawnbreak's rotating leadership would be decided by the voices of the pack.

There were many new faces among their ranks of late, however, and it was necessary that they be sorted into the branch of their choice in the interest of both furthering their skills and also the ability to cast their vote in the upcoming elections.

I am afraid we haven't been formally introduced, Aurelia said, coming up on a pale figure in quiet repose. The woman had been injured, she knew, and was freshly recovering from giving birth; hopefully she wasn't disturbing her at an inopportune time. I am Aurelia, current head of the Pillar of Wisdom. I understand you have not yet been placed.

She paused, taking a seat some polite distance away.

You are still healing, so it is not necessary you begin any formal training or practice right away, she clarified. The clouds gathered more tightly overhead, making the noonday sun weak. It is only to secure your place and ensure you have the right to express yourself in the vote - we believe in fairness and equality above all. So tell me - anything about yourself.

Aurelia averted her gaze, seemingly shy. As the years passed, she had learned it was fair to offer up something first in exchange.

I... do well when it comes to hard decisions, but I cannot mend a wound to save anyone's life. Also, my sister Tiberii thinks I am a poor drunk.

Was this how it was done?

SKILL: ORATOR (1/5)

---

Svajonė hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep.

It happened more and more lately — these sudden, heavy drops into unconsciousness whenever her body demanded it. Healing took everything she had, and between the half-healed fracture in her leg and the ghosts her mind kept replaying, she drifted off without warning.

The soft crunch of someone approaching stirred her awake. Her ears twitched first, then lifted halfway as she blinked herself back into the present. For a heartbeat, she tensed—trauma had taught her to expect the worst, but Aurelia’s voice was calm and careful, and Svajonė’s rigid shoulders eased.

Oh… sorry she murmured, breath puffing weakly from her nose as she shifted upright in the nest of moss and dried reeds someone (Vidarr, she suspected) had gathered for her. The movement sent a sharp jolt through her injured leg, and she winced but didn’t hide it. Didn’t mean to be… out of it.

She listened quietly, head tilted, her mismatched eyes steady despite the exhaustion behind them. Aurelia’s introduction was formal but gentle, and Svajonė found herself dipping her head in a subtle nod of respect.

Svajonė, she offered after a moment. Though most people shorten it… Sva. Whatever’s easier for your tongue. A faint, crooked smile ghosted across her muzzle. It’s nice to finally meet you properly.

She adjusted her forepaws, tucking her broken hind leg closer to her belly to relieve the pressure. Her body still felt wrong sometimes, hollow in places where life used to be, but she forced her thoughts away from it. Aurelia was waiting.

I appreciate the kindness, she said. I… don’t think I could chase much or fight anything right now, even if I wanted to. My leg still screams at me when I stand too long, and… Her voice trailed off. The memory of blood and cold water flashed behind her eyes. Recovery’s been… slow.

Aurelia’s shy confession pulled a small, warm hum from Svajonė’s throat, something between a chuckle and a soft chuff. It loosened something tight inside her.

Well, she said gently, if this is how it’s done, you’re doing better than most. Her ears perked the slightest bit as she continued. I’m no good at… big decisions, I guess. I tend to follow my gut first and regret it later, but I appreciate that my voice is heard. She shrugged one shoulder. But I can track. Hunt. Scout. My mother taught me old ways — stories, signs, herbs that help with pain or sickness. I won’t pretend I’m a healer, but I know enough to make someone feel better if they’re hurting.

Her eyes softened. And I guess I’m stubborn. Too stubborn, sometimes.

She hesitated, then added in a quieter tone, I know I’m new here. And broken. But I want to belong somewhere. To help however I can, after I’m standing properly again. If Dawnbreak gives me a place… I won’t waste it.

Svajonė shifted slightly, ears flicking as the wind pushed cold air into the den's mouth.

And for what it’s worth… I think your sister’s probably just jealous she can’t abstain from her drink like you probably can. A tired but genuine smile tugged at her muzzle. But that’s just a guess.

---

Although an injury as severe as a broken limb could excuse any lapse in activity, Aurelia at least appreciated the woman's self-consciousness regarding her current situation. That is not to say she was unwelcome - but lately Dawnbreak had turned into something of a charity and homeless shelter, a fate she distinctly remember the other founders disagreeing with when laying the ground rules for their future.

One joined the pack; one contributed to the pack; then one earned their place in the pack, and thus their right to vote and hold formal discussions during electoral processes.

It was difficult to break free of the shackles of preconceived notions. Dawnbreak had been built upon the iron backs of wolves forged from hardship and loss; it was natural that they should default to taking care of their own first, always looking within rather than without.

Still.

Her mother's kind face prodded at her memory.

Svajonė was pleasant enough, and it was doubtful she'd wanted a fractured leg in the first place. Hardly her fault.

Svajonė, she repeated back, enunciating carefully. Aurelia was not particularly fond of nicknames. Those who think it too difficult simply have not practiced it enough. A little bit of effort is not so troublesome.

It is important your wound heals properly the first time; do not try anything outside of your current limitations, she admonished, although her tone was something closer to gentle (as she knew it). That is all that is expected of you. Rest, and save your strength.

Something peculiar flashed across the injured woman's expression for a moment, but it was too fleeting to grasp. Aurelia had to know someone well in order to make sense of such glimpses, and unfortunately Svajonė was a stranger to her - and she did not think it appropriate to ask questions or probe further.

Well, trusting your gut has gotten you this far, has it not? Aurelia continued. Perhaps a year or two ago, she might have pooh-poohed the notion entirely, believing strongly at the time that all sound decision-making came from one's head and the reliable system of logical deduction - but having seen and experienced so much since then, she had doubts. Besides, if anyone was a poster child for one's gut being a trustworthy compass, it was Tiberii - even the Wisdom knew not to discredit its mystic abilities these days.

You sound very knowledgeable to me. I think we could learn a great deal from you, Svajonė, she said sincerely. I do not know how long you plan to stay with us, but you are welcome to choose a path so that you might truly belong here for a time.

Pausing to gather her thoughts, Aurelia considered how best she might describe the current functions of each role. They all had their own separate duties, but together, they came together as a whole entity, a living, breathing organism clawing its way toward survival and a better life.

I currently represent the path of Wisdom; mediators and healers, we are the eyes, the brain of the pack, meant to be clear-headed and careful, she said, with a slight emphasis on meant. Even the little Shakti-Vaès knew she was terribly imperfect. It is natural that Courage should be the heart, forging the way forward as scouts and messengers, encouraging each other when we are weak and in need of strength; while Power best represents our lungs, our breath. Breath fills the body with momentum, empowers us to action, rendering us capable of defending ourselves and our own.

Breath was what fueled voice, effort, endurance - even presence.

Without breath, courage cannot surge, wisdom cannot speak. Power represents the lungs, the driving breath of determination.

Wisdom thinks.

Courage endures.

Power breathes.

'I wish Tiberii knew how truly important she was,' Aurelia thought sorrowfully.

There is no wrong choice. We have use for everyone, here.

There was a lighthearted moment where the woman offered a soft, languid smile, and Aurelia thought it too genuine to bother correcting her statement with the truth of the sisters' earth-shattering bouts of alcoholism.

All in due time.

SKILL: ORATOR (2/5)

---

Svajonė listened quietly as Aurelia spoke, her head tilted just slightly, mismatched eyes half-lidded with exhaustion but alert. Something about the way Aurelia said her name, slow, deliberate, with that clipped confidence, made a small smile flicker at the edge of her muzzle. It felt… grounding, somehow, like being acknowledged properly for the first time in weeks.

She shifted her weight, careful of her healing leg, pulling it closer against her belly so it wouldn’t throb as badly. I promise I’m not planning to run laps around the territory, she said with a tired little huff that might’ve been a laugh. Standing up without seeing stars is already enough of a fight for me.

The admonishment didn’t bother her. If anything, it soothed her a little. Being told rest by someone who wasn’t tiptoeing around her grief felt… normal. Almost comforting.

I’ll be careful, she added softly. I… learned the hard way what happens when I don’t listen to my limits.

Her gaze drifted briefly—too briefly for Aurelia to catch. A flicker of something private. Pain, maybe. Or the memory of. Then it was gone again.

When Aurelia spoke of trusting one’s gut, Svajonė let out a faint snort. It’s gotten me into trouble as much as it’s gotten me out, she admitted. But… you’re not wrong. It’s kept me alive too. And given me one good thing in this world. Her voice softened at the thought of Reid, of his little paws and morning squeaks, but she didn’t elaborate unless asked further to.

What Aurelia said next surprised her.

You… think you could learn from me? Svajonė blinked, a little taken aback. She wasn’t used to being seen as anything useful outside of claws and teeth. That’s… kind of you to say. I don’t know how long I’ll stay, but I’d like to be more than just someone taking up space.

Her ears perked when Aurelia began outlining the roles. Wisdom. Courage. Power. The way Aurelia described them — like parts of a single living body — actually made sense to her in a way she didn’t expect. She pictured it all while Aurelia spoke: a pack breathing, moving, thinking as one whole creature.

It reminded her of home.

She mulled over the choices — though maybe she already knew the answer before she even opened her mouth. Wisdom. Courage. Power. What was she, really, now that her body was broken and her world had shifted? A wolf who’d recently limped through death and birth was unlikely to chase the horizon anytime soon. But that wasn’t what swayed her.

…I think Wisdom fits me best, she said at last, her voice slow and thoughtful. My mother taught me a lot of old things, she said. Stories, omens… herbs for sickness, herbs for pain.

I may not be able to do much currently, but I can support. I can learn. And I can share what I know.

---

Although the faraway glint of close-held grief in Svajonė's eyes was missed by Aurelia's passive observation, she did catch the peculiar allusion to limits through her quiet words. She would not press further, but inwardly hoped the woman might one day come to terms with whatever sorrows lay buried in her past.

Aurelia felt a pang of guilt. Even now, she struggled to confront her own emotions; for up until very recently her only method of handling them was to stay in perpetual motion. So long as she did not stop, they could not catch her. Nothing could.

One good thing is enough, she said, and for whatever reason Sólúlfur's burning gaze flashed across her mind as she did. One good thing. Hold onto it. Cherish it.

While she appreciated Svajonė's assurances of usefulness, Aurelia did not want her to believe she was merely a body to be worked. Dawnbreak stood for equality and fairness, but that certainly didn't mean one could not be injured or sick. There will be time enough.

Nevertheless, it didn't take long for her to make a decision.

I see. I have a feeling you may get along with my sister Euphemia and brother Cassius in that case, she said. It always surprised her that Cassius had taken such a deep interest in the ways of the healer, although that could have been her own bias speaking - after all, most of the men in her life had been of the rough, stoic variety, less keen on mending wounds than dealing them out in the name of justice. For whatever reason Cassius and Isaiah had turned out differently.

Mother's influence.

Why hadn't she inherited her softness, Aurelia wondered? Svajonė possessed that same feminine gentleness, the soft way of speech that was at once a whisper but no less powerful.

We welcome you as a fully fledged member of Dawnbreak, for however long that lasts. It is almost time for our next leadership to be elected; I would be honored if you participated in the vote.

A part of her wondered what that might mean for the future of the pack. While it was expected that the general directives and structure must be upheld even as the three Pillars changed hands, every wolf was different, exhibiting their own strengths and - ideally - working in tandem for the good of Dawnbreak.

No matter what lay ahead, she would provide whatever support she could; Aurelia belonged to the Vale as much as the very stone beneath its mountains.