Kale awoke the next morning. He was thankful as he woke, as he drifted off to sleep the previous night, serenaded by the howls of mourning from the wolves. It comforted him through his tears that there were other beings out there that felt his measure of pain and loss. Perhaps it was his mother and father speaking through them, telling him that they still watched over him, and still loved him.
It made his eyes water anew as he thought about this, but it filled him with resolve as well. He was taking this as a sign that he should begin his own journey into the world, leaving the womb of the forest and cabin he'd called home these first twenty four years of his life, and venture into the world for experiences and memories to name as his own.
He took his time packing up the things he would need into a satchel that once belonged to his father: money from the top of the closet, meat he and his father had cured a month ago, his bedroll and blanket, a hammock, and a few other necessities. He carefully packed up the herbs from the cabin into small leather pouches. He may not need them, but their presence would be a small comfort to him as he ventured alone into the rest of the world.
He looked at his father's finely crafted longbow for a time before placing that with his satchel. He knew in the back of his mind that it didn't need tending, but he waxed the bowstring and oiled the wood anyway. The motions brought him some sense of peace as he worked, carefully and surely. Finally, he looked in the back of the closet, casting his gaze over his father's greatsword.
He looked at it as if seeing it for the first time, with memories of his father's grim-faced tutelage as he taught Kale the proper arts of using it, and the small smile that disturbed the grimness of his face when he had found out that Kale felt as drawn to the large blade, as he himself was.
The sword itself wasn't made with un-necessary ornamentation, engravings, or anything really decorative. A circular hilt divided the sword between the woven handle and the long, slowly curved single-edged blade itself. It had been made by a sword smith of great skill, who had been paid quite a large sum of money by his father to be made to serve but one single purpose: to serve it's wielder well in battle.
His father had made sure Kale harbored no illusions about the sword. "A weapon," he'd said, "is neither inherently good nor evil. How the wielder uses it decides that. It can be used by a just and fair person, bringing swift death to those who would terrorize and exploit the innocent for their own selfish gain. However, it can also be used by the wicked to kill those same innocent people in the name of greed and short-lived power."
Kale set his jaw with determination as he sat up from the bed, and began carefully cleaning the blade, and re-strapping the handle. He carefully wove strips from his mother's tough hemp working dress, and his father's equally tough breeches, made from the same material. His father's breeches had been dyed a dark, night blue by his mother, and her own dress was dyed a more sedate forest green. The two colors began to merge as he wove them carefully over the handle, forming a crosshatch pattern. He made sure each weaving was tight, so that the grip wouldn't become unsteady if he needed to draw the blade, just as his father had taught him.
When he was finished, he found the simple sheath his father used. It lay most of the blade bare, with a leather sheath for only the final half-foot of the blade, and the first foot as well. However, each had leather cord ties that would allow one to swiftly draw the big blade if necessary. He attached the blade to his back, placed the bow over his shoulder and neck, put on the quiver with twenty of his father's big hunting arrows, and finally grabbed his satchel. Yes, he'd be as ready as he'd ever be.
He took his time locking up the cabin. Since he probably wouldn't be back for a while, he'd rather not come back to a mother bear living in his cabin. He carefully locked up the windows as best he could, while making sure some air could enter and leave. He walked outside, and barred the door. Taking a deep breath, he turned his back on the place he had been born in, grown up in, and learned so much so far, and began walking with the long steps his father had taught him when he wanted to cover lots of ground quickly, without expending too much energy.
After an hour of walking, he felt that he was being followed. He tried to look around without being obvious about it, but couldn't see anything. However, he heard the stealthy signs: a twig snapping, a rock being moved slightly, a dry leaf being stepped on. Whatever, or whoever it was, it was being mostly stealthy, but wasn't being as stealthy as he would have been, which pointed to someone who was still learning the art of moving quietly.
He next heard the sound of a dry leaf being pushed into the ground about five paces behind him, and he whirled around. In response to his sudden movement, he saw a young wolf dart behind some rocks. He recognized the wolf: it was one of the cubs of the pack alpha he had seen recently. It was alone in following him, which made him curious. With seeming disinterest, he turned around and kept walking, while throwing one of the pieces of dried meat over his shoulder. He smiled as he heard it being quietly, though hungrily devoured by the young wolf.
This pace was kept up throughout the day, and when the sun was dipping behind the horizon at last, he decided to make camp for the night. He saw a tallish tree nearby, one with limbs that would support his weight if he were to sleep in its embrace. He pulled out the hammock from his satchel, and strung it between two of the branches. He stowed the rest of his gear in the crooks of the tree's limbs near him, within reach if needs be. He kept his bow and quiver nearest, as he'd need them the most if something upsetting happened.
He heard a rabbit's squeal as he was beginning to close his eyes, and smiled to himself. It seemed his wolf companion had found his dinner. He ate another piece of the dried meat, and drifted off to sleep.
The dreams he had were the most real, and yet the most unreal he'd ever had. He was laying in the same hammock, in the same place, but the surroundings, the rock mesa above him, and even the tree had taken on an otherworldly, ethereal quality. Everything around him was well lit, but not bright or hard on his eyes. It was as if everything around him emitted it's own glow. He saw the sleeping wolf, tucked into a crevasse in the rock mesa, where the day's heat was still trapped. The wolf was moving slightly and twitching its paws; it appeared to be dreaming. He was momentarily bothered by the fact that he still did not know the wolf's gender, but it quickly passed. He decided that he'd find out, if the wolf decided to stay with him. His mind drifted briefly to something his mother had told him as a child, that an animal would pick you to be it's companion, not necessarily the other way around. The animal would show you that it was making the first gesture or trust, and it was up to you to return it in kind. If you did so properly, you'd have another friend to stay by your side. It seemed that he had been picked, and by the cub of the pack alpha, at that. He smiled at this, and felt honored by it.
Even as everything around him, including the tree he was sleeping in, was glowing with a soft inner light, he saw a much brighter glow off to the east. It seemed to surround a woman, who had dark skin, long, opal-colored hair, and a bow over her shoulder. She looked to be young, perhaps his age, but her eyes told him that she was far, far older than that. He was momentarily shocked by the fact that he could pick out such details at the distance she appeared to be, but he soon lost himself in looking at her once again. He noticed a small, perfect golden circle inscribed on the center of her forehead, glowing just as brightly as the nimbus around her. She had seen him staring, as she was looking at him the whole time, with an amused smile on her face. She winked at him, and the soft yellow nimbus of light around her got brighter, and more intense still, until the soft golden glow was unbearable to look at.
He awoke, and found himself looking at the sun through the branches of this tree. The sun was just beginning the day, peeping over the eastern horizon. He lay back on his side, now awake, and found himself puzzled by what he had just dreamt. What surprised him more was that he remembered every detail of this dream, when he rarely, if at all, remembered any of his dreams.
He then passed it off as just a dream, even if it was a very strong one. He gathered his things, unstrung his hammock, and swung down from the tree, landing on all fours to greatly lessen the impact of falling. As he straightened, he was amused by the fact that he noticed two grey tips appear slowly over a rock near the mesa to his right, followed slowly by a pair of grey eyes, and a black nose. He smiled, and threw another piece of dried meat toward it, falling short by a few paces intentionally.
He then stretched, and began walking once again, chewing his breakfast as he walked once again. As he walked, he thought more about his dream, which was still as fresh and as clear as when he had dreamt it to begin with. He was disturbed from his thoughts by the sparkle of a spring, which he walked towards without hesitation.
After only a few minutes, he reached the spring, gushing cool, clear water from where it escaped the rock, and drank greedily. He filled his waterskin once he was finished, and looked at his reflection as he did so.
He smirked as he saw a passing resemblance to the spiky plant for which he was named, as his own brown hair spiked out at random angles from the top of his head, his hair ending at the nape of his neck. Dusk-brown eyes looked back at him.
He saw the same golden circle he saw on the forehead of the woman he had seen in his dream appear for a split second on his own forehead, before disappearing, and his reflection was instantly replaced by the woman's face. Her face mirrored his facial expressions of surprise, then wonder, then shock at the sight, though there was the same amused look on her face as she mirrored his expressions. He took a step back from the water, and sat heavily on the ground, lost in thought.
No, that couldn't have been an ordinary dream, if he was still seeing things from it while he was awake. Just to make very sure, he followed the old expression, and pinched himself on the arm. Yes, it hurt, and his surroundings hadn't changed any, apart from the wolf nonchalantly trotting up in plain sight, and drinking it's own fill. He chanced a look at the wolf's hindquarters, and knew the wolf's gender as male at last. Well, at least that answered that question. However, he had many more racing around in his head like playful puppies, refusing to stay still until they were answered.
He shook his head. He realized that he really didn't know where he was going at first, but upon looking at his surroundings, he was headed toward the city of Thorns. He shrugged. It was as good a place as any, he supposed. He glanced to his left, and saw the wolf sitting looking at him, in plain sight, with his head tilted slightly to his left, as if to say "What are you doing, just sitting there? Are you ill?"
Well, that helped him get moving, if nothing else did. He got up once more and began walking, with the wolf no longer slinking along behind him, but a few paces behind him and to the left, in plain sight. That was a good sign, he thought. He threw another piece of dried meat toward the wolf, and the smacking sounds he heard told him the wolf was enjoying the gift with relish. He smiled at this, though he realized his own store of food was growing short, and he'd have to resupply himself soon.
As if in answer, he saw a large hare nibbling on the grasses far off in the distance. He held up his hand at the wolf, willing it to understand that he was asking it to stay still. Without taking his eyes off the hare, he slowly, carefully, and quietly removed his gear, leaving him with nothing on but the bow, and an arrow nocked. Using the cover of the terrain, he slowly stalked the hare until he was within distance of a bowshot.
Soon enough, he was, and he carefully and slowly drew the arrow back, taking very careful aim, as well as a deep breath. If he missed, the hare would take off like the arrow that was about to leave his bow, and he probably wouldn't get another shot. He tracked the hare's movements carefully with the bow, and finally let go; exhaling the breath he was holding as he did so. He smiled; his aim was good, and had struck the hare in the head.
He quickly walked over to the hare, and said a prayer of thanks for the hare for giving him its life, that he might eat a few more days. He then skinned and gutted the hare, and began building a fire. He whistled toward the wolf, who came running. The wolf had already smelled the blood, and began nosing carefully toward the hare, until his nose was almost amongst the hare's innards. Kale moved the hare away from the curious and hungry wolf, laughing as he did so. He dropped the hare's innards close to the wolf's nose, who then sniffed, and finally gulped down the gift.
Kale began cutting the meat into strips, and swiftly making a wooden rack for the meat, began curing the meat as well as the fur. He decided to make a pouch from the fur, and began grinding the bones heavily into a powder after letting them dry out. He ground the bones very carefully until it was nothing more than a very fine powder. He raised the bowl of bone powder to the sky, thanking the hare silently one last time, then mixed some water and herbs from his pouches with the bone meal, and daubed it carefully over the meat to help it roast more evenly. He spent the rest of the day curing the meat, "testing" pieces now and then; just to be sure they were good to eat.
This had taken longer than he thought it would, so he tucked the now-cured meat into his pouch, and began looking for a place to spend the night. He decided that since predators were pretty scarce in this area, he'd bed down on the soft earth, next to his fire. He fed the fire a bit more dry wood from old trees in the area, and then prepared for the evening.
The wolf, for his part, felt full and sleepy now. He saw Kale getting ready for the evening. Well, he was being a bit indolent in not pushing on through the night, as he would have done, but he sighed all the same, and lay down, resting his head on his paws. Perhaps more interesting things would come with the day tomorrow.
Kale saw the wolf looking askance at him before laying down himself, and he smiled to himself. Yes, it seems that a friendship was blossoming, alright. He was thankful for the companionship, though he wondered when the wolf would show him a sign as to his name. Soon enough, he supposed.
He wrapped the blanket around himself, added a bit more wood to the fire, and began closing his eyes in preparation for sleep.