Name Seeker: The Grave of Crowns

Chapter 2: The Fire Pools

Swift Wings stood atop a dune of snow, her broad cleft hooves splayed wide to keep her balance in the snow. She gazed across the coming path her herd was to take, her broad, thick-furred ears flicking back every now and then to catch the sounds of the coming herd behind her. Ahead, a small mountain hunched on the horizon, only half a journey's worth away - glancing up at the sun, which was already half completed in its journey, Swift Wings knew they would reach the fire pools by nightfall. At least, if the rest of this journey went without incident. Her brother had warned her that even though they were several journeys ahead of the usual migration pace, wolves were always to be found around the fire pools. The heat of the burning pools meant some greenery was always growing even through the harsh winters, and there were other hoofbeasts and scuttlers that never left the place. It made it a prime hunting ground for her people's worst enemies.
Her twitching ears caught the sound of a familiar uneven gait a ways behind her.
Swift Wings gave the plains ahead one last scan with her eyes before turning back to face the distant shape of a fellow caribou hobbling towards her. She smiled, and trotted to meet him.
"How did you even get this far ahead of the herd?" The young filly caribou asked the approaching male.
Little Birds Dancing ducked his head, scuffing a hollow in the snow with a hoof and depositing what looked like a whole bush worth of calf-tails. He kicked a bit of snow back over it to keep the occasional sharp gust from blowing them away.
"I came to give you your fill of calf tails," he said, lifting his head as he leaned weight onto his good side. If he was settling in he meant to talk for a while.
Swift Wings twitches her ears towards him, pricked with interest.
"As for how I got ahead, well, everyone is dragging their hooves today," he said with a shrug. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you. Your brother has a message for you."
"He does?" Swift Wings blinked in surprise, her tail swishing. "Is something wrong?"
"No, not at all," Little Bird assured her. "It's...well, don't let on I told you anything, but...it's to do with your third naming."
"Yes!" Swift Wings exclaimed, rearing up and kicking the air with excitement. "I knew it! I knew they were going to assign me once we reached the fire pools!"
"I...well," Little Birds Dancing said awkwardly, looking away and scuffing the snow with a hoof.
Swift Wings fell back to all four hooves, eyeing him.
"What?" She asked warily. "What is it?"
"I...you should really talk to your brother," Little Bird mumbled.
"About what, Little Bird?" She demanded, taking a step forward.
His gaze snapped around and his eyes narrowed.
"Little Birds Dancing," he snapped in response. Swift Wing rolled her eyes and chuffed impatiently, the hot air exploding into a white cloud around her mouth.
"Whatever! Just tell me what's going on!"
"Your brother is worried about the ceremony and whether they'll actually do it," Little Bird snapped, laying his ears back. "There, are you happy?"
Little Bird regretted the harsh relaying of the news as soon as he said it. The young doe stared at him slack-jawed and her eyes were showing white with horror.
"What?" She asked softly.
Little Bird sighed.
"I don't know why, Swift," he said. "But...whatever it is, I'm sure if you take it to the King, he'll see reason -"
"The King hates me as much as the rest of the herd does!" Swift Wings snorted hard, tossing her head from side to side. Her antlers were large for a female, and it had been clear from the day she'd been born - after she'd recovered from her close brush with death - that she was going to be built like her mother. Larger than a Lowlands caribou, built heavier with thicker fur, and with a fearsome crown set on her head. She did take after her father in some ways - her fur wasn't shaggy like her mother's was, and she had a trimmer body and was lighter on her feet thanks to Quick Hooves Running.
Where her difference really stood out was the pale cream and white patches colouring along her back which marked her clearly of the Highlands. No Lowlands caribou had cream in their coats, only brown, darken brown, and occasional white patterns. This was earned her suspicious eyes from all the herd - that, and the fact her mother had abandoned Swift Wings and her brother to return to the Highlanders after their father's death.
"No, Swift," Little Bird urged her, limping across the space between them to give her a friendly nuzzle on the shoulder. "The King doesn't hate you, and neither does the herd. You just hear a few of the loudest voices over the rest."
"Some of those happen to be Elders," Swift complained.
Little Birds sighed and stepped back, shaking his head.
"Just do what you can, and all you can, Swift," he urged as some final words of encouragement. "You'd make a strong outlier, just like your brother, you excel at your tasks, and you're quick to answer commands. We need outliers right now, and if the Elders refuse you for what you are...I can't believe that they would be so foolish. Now go and talk to your brother."
Little Birds Dancing returned to his pile of calf tails.
"Thank you, Little Birds Dancing," Swift Wings said, huffing in thanks and dipping her head. He stretched his neck out to her to give her a small mouthful of branches with calf-tails on them.
With a farewell flick of his tail, Little Birds Dancing trotted away with the rest of his calf-tails.
Swift Wings munched her calf tails as she took a long canter around the border of the herd, careful not to bite into the stems of the branches the calf tails grew on. Too much of the branch stems could turn a caribou drowsy and sluggish. Swift Wings paused now and then to bury the stems once she'd stripped them between her nimble lips and thick, powerful tongue.
When she'd finished them and buried the last stem, Swift Wings kicked up her hooves and galloped across the outlying space left between the inner ring of patrols and the core of the herd.
She trotted the edge of the gathered dams, bucks, yearlings, and Elders, until she spotted her brother's antlers near the tail end of the herd. He was deep in discussion with Tall Crown Jumping, the oldest of the outlier wardens.
Swift Wings stopped a few leaps away from them and stood where her brother would see her. The wind changed just as the two older bucks came within earshot. Broad Wings Flashing's nostrils flared and he cut himself short before Swift could make out any words. His head snapped up, and his eyes grew warm as they lit upon his sister.
"Let us talk later, Tall Crown," he said to the older buck. Tall Crown Jumping ducked his head in agreement, then trotted past them, flashing his tail in farewell.
"Little Birds Dancing said you had something to tell me?" Swift Wings said, though her belly was already churning with dread. Perhaps the decision to deny her her third name had already been made, and that was what her brother and Tall Crown Jumping had been talking about.
"Yes," her brother said solemnly. Now that Tall Crown Jumping had moved on and they were alone, he nuzzled Swift Wings's cheek in a more relaxed greetings, lipping at her ear like he had when she was a small calf. The tickling made her snort and smile as she pulled away.
"So what is it?" she asked.
Broad Wings Flashing sighed and nodded after the herd as it pulled ahead of them, signaling that they should keep moving. Swift Wings fell in step next to her brother as they trotted along.
Broad Wings Flashing was silent for a time, his head level with his shoulders as he was deep in thought. Finally, he took a breath and raised his head to speak.
"You know the tradition of the fire pools," he began. "It's always been your favourite legend. And you've been excited to see them since long before you knew they were the place our herd bestows the third naming ceremony. And now..."
Broad Wings took another slow breath.
"Please, Swift Wings," he said, looking at her with a deep urgency in his gaze. "Whatever happens tomorrow, don't let it taint your love for this place. The fire pools should never be a place of...of sorrow."
Swift Wings inhaled sharply and stopped short.
"They aren't doing it, are they?" She demanded in a trembling voice. "They aren't giving me my third name."
"Nothing is final yet," Broad Wings said quickly, butting her shoulder gently with his snout. "I just...want you to be prepared, for whatever -"
"If you weren't sure of it, you wouldn't be warning me!" Swift Wings wailed, wheeling away from him. "This is - this is so wrong! I can't believe this! I've worked so hard!"
"It's not your fault," Broads Wings exclaimed, his ears laying back in distress for his sister.
"No, it's not!" Swift Wings snarled, whirling to face him. She snorted angrily and pawed the snowy ground, stamping hard. "It's her fault! That - that coward! That traitor!"
"Swift!" Broad Wings bellowed, rearing up angrily. "Do not speak of our mother like that!"
"Why not? Everyone else does!" Swift Wings sneered, then spun around and galloped off along the edge of the herd before he could say anything else.
Her brother resisted the urge to go after her, and with his sister gone, his anger deflated. Broad Wings stood staring after where his sister had disappeared. Then, ears drooping and head low, he picked up his pace after the herd once more.