Finland doesn't enjoy that night's festivities, even though the drink flows like blood of a stuck bird, in that it is plentiful and life-giving, but it's all utterly lost on him. He thinks only of the wolf, his poor wolf friend, and the way he screamed as he transformed. It's embedded into Finland's mind, the image branded through his eyes and ears.
More than once he tries to find a way to leave the party and excuse himself for an hour, just to check on the wolf. Every single time his escape is thwarted.
At midnight, he gives up trying. Wolves have thick coats, they're used to winters, he tells himself.
But not winters like these. The Eastern sea actually formed ice bridges this year, suppose the wolf is from the south, somewhere slightly warmer, and walked up? And then, there is the plain and simple fact that his wolf lacks a coat.
He can't drink with the wolf on his mind like that, can't properly lose himself in the fuzzy mindlessness, and hours later finds him lying awake next to Norway, snoring softly. Finland wishes he had that kind of peace.
He waits until they are all asleep and dresses as quietly as he can. Denmark and Norway are oblivious; Sweden stirs in his sleep but rolls over with a mumble when Finland whispers he's only going out to relieve himself and will be back shortly. He creeps out to see the wolf, armed with an extra blanket and a few furs. It isn't enough, it's not shelter, but it'll do.
When he arrives he finds the fire has died to a quiet ember. He kicks it alive again and places a log on top of it to catch.
His wolf has wrapped himself up in Finland's cloak and shirt though he has donned neither in any conventional way - he doesn't appear to know what to do with things like armholes and sleeves. His lips are blueish, and his skin is frozen, but he's alive. Supernatural beings like him must be a little more tenacious. Still, Finland tuts and shakes his head, then prods the wolf-man awake.
Blearily, the wolf-man blinks but recognises him and smiles. Finland feels his stomach flip and smiles back.
"Come on, you," he says, "up you get." The wolfman emits an unhappy grunt and clutches Finland's cloak harder. "No, I'm going to make you a bed with it. Come on." His wolf refuses to let it go.
"Fine, be that way," Finland says finally, and spreads the blanket he's brought over a bed of evergreen needles. Not the choicest mattress, but they'll keep some of the wet off. "Now you," Finland says, but the wolfman doesn't move.
He rolls his eyes. What to do with a stubborn wolf you can't communicate with? He figures maybe it's best to lead by example and lies on top of the makeshift mattress himself, then pulls some of the furs over him. "Like this, see?" He pats the space next to him. "Now you, over here."
The wolf-man smiles again, widely and toothily, and crawls over to Finland. He plants himself in the middle, taking up half of Finland's personal space, and nestles next to him, snuggled up close to his side. "You're freezing, you damn stupid wolf!" Finland exclaims.
"Mmm," the wolf-man murmurs, into Finland's neck.
"And I really have to get back," he adds.
The wolf-man hugs him tighter.
Finland gives him a greater share of the furs and pulls the cloak that he left the wolf-man earlier over them both. He has every intention of waiting for the wolf-man to fall asleep so that he can return to his friends, but alas for Finland, he falls asleep first.
Subsets of sets (3a/4)
Finland doesn't enjoy that night's festivities, even though the drink flows like blood of a stuck bird, in that it is plentiful and life-giving, but it's all utterly lost on him. He thinks only of the wolf, his poor wolf friend, and the way he screamed as he transformed. It's embedded into Finland's mind, the image branded through his eyes and ears.
More than once he tries to find a way to leave the party and excuse himself for an hour, just to check on the wolf. Every single time his escape is thwarted.
At midnight, he gives up trying. Wolves have thick coats, they're used to winters, he tells himself.
But not winters like these. The Eastern sea actually formed ice bridges this year, suppose the wolf is from the south, somewhere slightly warmer, and walked up? And then, there is the plain and simple fact that his wolf lacks a coat.
He can't drink with the wolf on his mind like that, can't properly lose himself in the fuzzy mindlessness, and hours later finds him lying awake next to Norway, snoring softly. Finland wishes he had that kind of peace.
He waits until they are all asleep and dresses as quietly as he can. Denmark and Norway are oblivious; Sweden stirs in his sleep but rolls over with a mumble when Finland whispers he's only going out to relieve himself and will be back shortly. He creeps out to see the wolf, armed with an extra blanket and a few furs. It isn't enough, it's not shelter, but it'll do.
When he arrives he finds the fire has died to a quiet ember. He kicks it alive again and places a log on top of it to catch.
His wolf has wrapped himself up in Finland's cloak and shirt though he has donned neither in any conventional way - he doesn't appear to know what to do with things like armholes and sleeves. His lips are blueish, and his skin is frozen, but he's alive. Supernatural beings like him must be a little more tenacious. Still, Finland tuts and shakes his head, then prods the wolf-man awake.
Blearily, the wolf-man blinks but recognises him and smiles. Finland feels his stomach flip and smiles back.
"Come on, you," he says, "up you get." The wolfman emits an unhappy grunt and clutches Finland's cloak harder. "No, I'm going to make you a bed with it. Come on." His wolf refuses to let it go.
"Fine, be that way," Finland says finally, and spreads the blanket he's brought over a bed of evergreen needles. Not the choicest mattress, but they'll keep some of the wet off. "Now you," Finland says, but the wolfman doesn't move.
He rolls his eyes. What to do with a stubborn wolf you can't communicate with? He figures maybe it's best to lead by example and lies on top of the makeshift mattress himself, then pulls some of the furs over him. "Like this, see?" He pats the space next to him. "Now you, over here."
The wolf-man smiles again, widely and toothily, and crawls over to Finland. He plants himself in the middle, taking up half of Finland's personal space, and nestles next to him, snuggled up close to his side. "You're freezing, you damn stupid wolf!" Finland exclaims.
"Mmm," the wolf-man murmurs, into Finland's neck.
"And I really have to get back," he adds.
The wolf-man hugs him tighter.
Finland gives him a greater share of the furs and pulls the cloak that he left the wolf-man earlier over them both. He has every intention of waiting for the wolf-man to fall asleep so that he can return to his friends, but alas for Finland, he falls asleep first.
--