Wolven Storm: Treacherous Waters

[ A day or so later... ]

Bjørn closed the book he had been perusing and shelved it as he heard and smelt his older brother entering the library, but didn’t yet turn around, instead running a finger down another few book spines as if he were looking for something in particular… or simply idling. "So...?"

Børre pulled out a chair at one of the tables, the feet of it scraping on the hardwood floor, which caused Bjørn's shoulders to approach his ears at the grating sound of said scraping; he turned away from the shelves as the chair creaked under the larger Lupo’s build, and looked at him with mild expectation.

Børre crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth sporting a light frown. "She yelled at me,” he groused, flicking a look up at Bjørn as the other wolf occupied the seat across from him, one of whose eyebrows lofted on his finely chiseled face. Børre dropped the other part of that sentence: "At length.”

At this, Bjørn’s other brow joined the first one, "So now you know." The younger wolf had managed to accomplish establishing that rapport with the female wolf in question, without the yelling. Delicacy was not his older sibling’s first port of call in most situations. He could have predicted this outcome. Mind, even if Børre had approached and managed the conversation in a gentler manner, she might have still yelled at him - things to this point had not gone swimmingly; it could be said that a seemingly unstoppable force was meeting a supposedly immovable object.

Børre’s frown deepened as he rubbed a hand against an ear, grimacing slightly. "I think my ears are still ringing." Bjørn barely stifled the laugh this elicited, and the older Lupo carried on, his voice gaining a bewildered firmness, “She threw a chair at me!”

Bjørn cringed, and his humour began to die off as he settled into listening to what his brother had to say. "I'm... sorry."

Børre blew a vexed breath out his nose, and seemed to deflate a little after that exclamation. "I can't hurt her. I don't... want to.” Bjørn sat up a little straighter in his seat, dropped his elbows on the table, and his chin on his laced-together fingers, "Well, this is interesting. Tell me more. The doctor is in." the medically-trained wolf spoke in a teasing tone. At which Børre pinned him with a flat look, before continuing on.

"She fears pain..." Bjørn nodded along with this, "Understandable... and healthy,” he interjected, which provoked a rather daggered look from Børre. "Oh, please, do continue."

"...and no matter what I do, she can't seem to trust that I'm not trying to hurt her, but trying to help her. Everything needs an explanation. Coaxing."

"And what happens when you give her that?" Bjørn questioned, prodding him onward… only Børre’s mouth became a line with no words slipping out between his lips. Bjørn sighed. "Trust doesn't always come easily, Børre. Not when you grew up the way she did... and you, dear brother, can be intimidating to begin with, especially to an outsider."

Børre sighed heavily, and dropped his head into his hands, as he finally gave up what prompted this entire concentrated effort. "Dad... told me to rein her in, or he would."

Bjørn cringed and hissed through his teeth, "Ouch." Børre’s only response to this was a pained groan. "And I suppose you panicked." Børre’s head moved up and down in his hands after a moment. Bjørn rubbed his chin. "Here's a thought. She's Lupo, undoubtedly, you've seen it with your own eyes... but when you talk to her next? Well, apologise first..."

Børre lifted his head, hands rubbing over his face as he did so, "I'm not an idiot." But in his own domain, these things didn’t immediately occur to him.

"...mmhmm, and talk to her like she isn't Lupo. Surely you've done that before."

Børre’s brow knit faintly, his thoughts going back a good handful of years; his next word came through quieter, moments later. "Yes."

"And you can use that experience. Let it help you."

Børre sighed again. "Thanks, Bjørn."

"Anytime, Børre. Anytime."