The Storm Wolf: Gathering Clouds - chapter 6 Priestess - 6.7
Surprise! Here's an extra update!
Since the recent paragraphs are a bit short, I’ve decided to finish off the remaining part of this chapter today. We’re now approaching the end of the first half of Book 2. Expect some intriguing developments to wrap up this section of the story!
I licked the tip of my nose, savoring the salty warmth carried by the wind. The sand beneath my feet had been heated by the sun and felt pleasantly warm. Extending my consciousness, I focused on cleansing myself—now I could distinctly sense every grain of sand. Without sufficient concentration, it was easy to get lost in the vastness of the sandscape.
“... Your treat!” Piqsirpoq suddenly raised his voice, pulling my attention back from the expansive sea of sand.
“Alright, fine.” I shook my head, trying to catch up with the conversation. “How do you manage to eat so much every time?” I slipped my boots back on, grabbed my clothes from the palm tree trunk, and gave them a firm shake, ensuring no unwelcome guests were hiding inside—last time, an unknown sting had caused my neck to swell for three days.
“Food bought by others goes into a separate stomach.” Piqsirpoq pulled his head through his shirt’s neckline, ignoring my skeptical glance at his logic. “Will you come to this year’s party? Hunter said he’s preparing a surprise.”
“Maybe I’ll make an appearance if nothing unexpected happens,” I answered cautiously, not wanting to sound too disinterested.
“We’re going to be a senior mentor. Feels like we just got here at the Academy yesterday!” Piqsirpoq exclaimed, his excitement unshaken by my reserved response.
“It really has flown by,” I agreed, scratching my chin as memories of jumping into the wormhole resurfaced.
While waiting in the transport pod, Piqsirpoq hummed a tune softly, his tail and ears swaying subtly to the rhythm.
“Do you think there’ll be any Snow among the freshmen?” he asked lightly, his words carrying a distinct rhythm. Was it from spending too much time with dragon?
“Probably not,” I replied. I didn’t recall sensing any psychic-related waves from others, though I rarely interacted with them anyway. “The list comes out next week. We’ll see then.”
“And there’s still the finals…” Piqsirpoq’s tone carried a hint of frustration, though it didn’t disrupt his overall upbeat demeanor.
“Why are you talking like that?” While I’d grown accustomed to the dragons’ sing-song cadence, hearing Piqsirpoq adopt it felt peculiar. Perhaps I hadn’t noticed earlier because it was too noisy, but when did he start doing this?
“Ah, you noticed!” he said excitedly, his tail wagging rapidly. “Isn’t it cool? Adds a mysterious exotic flair!”
“Uh…” I scratched my ear, unsure how the Master Field would react to such a statement. “You’re actually pretty spot-on—the tone and rhythm are correct—but it feels forced if you think of it that way.”
“You just don’t appreciate it,” Piqsirpoq barked, punching my upper arm. “Plenty of wolves think it’s elegant. I got compliments at the last gathering.”
Noticing a certain emotion in his tone, I tilted my head toward Piqsirpoq, folding my right ear down.
Dawn had mentioned that individuals with prototype bloodlines were often attracted to those from other factions, likely a genetic mechanism to encourage diversity.
“W-What are you doing?” Piqsirpoq punched my arm again, turning his head away with his arms crossed, staring at the transport pod wall. The tips of his ears, however, were so flushed they glowed through his fur.
I wanted to joke about “like father, like son,” but the weight of “Not everyone enjoys the same 'privilege' as you.” hit me hard.
His reaction not only confirmed my suspicions but revealed how Piqsirpoq viewed his feelings. I finally understood what Qana meant. Regardless of fairness or the complex political systems behind it, the sense of relative deprivation was very real.
And I, of all people, knew exactly what it felt like to be a Wolf whose mere existence was deemed wrong.
So I stepped closer, letting our shoulders brush, and lightly draped my tail over his.
“Knock it off…” he muttered in a half-complaining tone, though his body gradually relaxed, and his ears flattened against his head. “I know the rule, no plans to screw up.” His voice was barely audible, but the waves emanating from him conveyed those silent words clearly. “Haven’t made them all eat shit yet…”
We stayed like that, leaning against each other, until the transport pod neared its destination.
“I need your help with something.” Remembering my earlier decision, I straightened up and stepped back slightly, pulling my terminal from my arm. “Help me find someone—a Snow.”
I opened the album and displayed a photo of that Snow I had taken earlier, handing the terminal to Piqsirpoq.
Senior cadets typically spent most of their time in their mentors’ research rooms and rarely mingled with others. I wasn’t one to attend gatherings like those hosted by Snow or the Senate. After several unsuccessful attempts to spot that Snow in the cafeteria, Piqsirpoq seemed like my best bet for a lead.
At least figuring out who he was would be a good first step, right?
But no matter how much I tried to rationalize my jumbled thoughts, I wasn’t prepared for Piqsirpoq to freeze completely, staring at the screen in silence.
“Uh…” I cleared my throat to prompt a response, hoping to get some reaction, but he remained motionless. “Is something wrong?”
I forced myself to appear patient, waiting for Piqsirpoq to speak.
“Why…” When he finally moved and began to speak, I exhaled a huge sigh of relief, momentarily worried he might have had a heart attack.
But, like Piqsirpoq, I wasn’t prepared for the words he was about to say.
“... Why do you have a photo of Dad?”