Private Side Adventure Completed The Urk Expidition: A Quiet Night Under Serene Starlight

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Closed thread with @SwifttailTheFox

A crescent moon lay nestled amongst a blanket of stars dotting the night sky, nary a cloud in sight as far as the eye could see. The waves gently rocked the Hide to and fro. Most of the crew were asleep, save for those who had night duties. One of these beasts was Silvertongue. He had essentially two jobs due to him speaking out on Morgan's behalf, and he was just now getting some time to relax.

He considered going to bed, but he knew he wouldn't get much sleep. He pondered to himself for a moment before he walked over and started climbing the rigging. Reaching the crow's nest, he expected to have it to himself, only to see Swifttail standing and staring out at the endless expanse of the sea.

"Oh- mind if I join you?" Silvertongue asked softly. "I wanted to take a look at the stars, seeing how clear it is out tonight."

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail jumped, claws tightening on the edge of the crow’s nest as the voice broke the quiet. He hadn’t heard anybeast climbing. He certainly hadn’t expected anybeast, really.

But when he turned and saw who it was, his tension loosened like a sail caught in a breeze.

“Oh! Oh, yeah. Sure,” he said, shifting his weight and brushing down the fur on his arms. His voice wavered from the start he had received, but he was visibly relieved and already starting to relax again. “It’s a good night for stars.”

He stepped aside, giving Silvertongue more space...not that there was much in the small wooden ring above the ship. The other fox moved with a kind of elegance Swift always felt a little clumsy next to. His light blue coat glowed in the moonlight, soft and silken like a sky before dawn. It suited him. Charming, deliberate, a little bit unreal.

Swifttail rubbed the back of his neck.

“I come up here sometimes,” he offered quietly. “Not always for the watch duty. The stars keep me company. Makes things feel smaller. Simpler.”

He looked out again, tail swaying gently.

“You ever think they’re lookin’ back?”

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

"Of course they are." Silvertongue nodded, saddling up besides Swifttail and leaning on the rail. "My godmother once told me that each star is the soul of someone who has passed on, and they're watching over us. She's a very eccentric and spiritual old beast, but I'd like to think she's right."

Silvertongue stared out at the stars, a slight smile on his face as he reached his paw out skyward, as if trying to catch one of those glimmering lights in his paws. "There is such beauty in this world, if only one takes the time to appreciate it."

He turned towards Swifttail. He appreciated being able to speak to another fox as an equal. Talinn is the captain, and not to mention his elder. Finn is always so full of energy, but he's a kit, and Kaii- well, he's a genius, but far too socially awkward. The rest of the foxes on the crew didn't seem interested in making friends, either. So, Silvertongue was glad that he could at least find some companionship with Swifttail.

"Do you have anyone up there? Watching over you?" He asked, not really realizing in the moment it might be a sensitive question.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail kept his eyes skyward, shoulders gently rising with a slow breath. The moonlight caught the faint shimmer in his gaze.

“Aye.” His voice was low, steady, but threaded with something tender. “Some days it feels like more than can fill the sky.”

His tail drooped behind him from the weight of memory settling into fur and bone. When he turned to look at Silvertongue, his eyes were glistening, the tears there not yet spilled. But he smiled, soft and true.

“Knowing they're up there is everything to me.”

Just then, one faint star slipped across the sky. A quiet streak of silver that vanished as quickly as it came, like a secret whispered by the heavens.

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

"Oh, look!" Silvertongue exclaimed, pointing out the star as it raced across the night sky. "A shooting star, did you see it? They say if you make a wish on a shooting star, it's bound to come true."

He turned to Swifttail. "You ought to make a wish. It seems like you may need one." Silvertongue noticed the faintest trace of tears in Swifttails' eyes, making his heart feel heavy.

Silently, Silvertongue closed his eyes, paws grasped in prayer as he made his own wish. He just wanted to finally be able to stop running. For years he had been chased across the sea, and now he felt like he was safe. He just hoped that it would stay that way.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail gasped, ears flicking upward as the streak of light danced across the sky.

“I saw it!” he whispered, breath catching just slightly.

His tail wagged instinctive, before curling back around his legs. He stared at the sky a moment longer, then, quietly... almost as if speaking to the stars themselves, he gave voice to the wish tugging at his heart.

“I wish... I just… I want things to stop changin’ so fast. I want to stop runnin’... and just... be somewhere I belong.”

His voice faded into the stillness.

When he turned to glance at Silvertongue, his smile returned. Not wide, but real. And for the first time all night, he didn’t feel so alone under the stars.

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue turned to Swifttail. “I know what it feels like. To constantly be running, to feel like no matter where you go- you just don’t belong. You’re not alone in experiencing that pain.”

Silvertongue stepped forward, and he pulled Swifttail into an embrace, holding him tightly against his chest. He didn’t say a word, letting the sea breeze blow around them as he hugged Swifttail.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail's fur tingled as he felt the warmth of Silvertongue's embrace soak into his body like a the first sips from a cool crisp spring after working the hot forge all day. He instinctively returned the embrace, letting out a soft purr.

A purr!? He hadn't purred since he had left Iskatyut!

As he held the silent embrace, his eyes glanced skyward, and he finally saw what he had been up on the mast searching for the past few nights.

Faint on the horizon, but still present, ungulated ribbons of greens and blues. The tendrils of the aurora curled out silently out before the Hide, beaconing the hallowed vessel nearer.

Swifttail began wagging and excitedly pointed at them.

"Oh, Silvie look! They ARE here!" Swifttail eased out of the cozy embrace beaconed Silvertongue to see. "I never thought I'd see them ever again!"

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue looked up at the sky. He was in complete awe, for he had never seen such natural beauty before. He took his hat off and held it close to his chest. "It's... beautiful." He turned to Swifttail, tears forming in his eyes.

"Spirits, dancing across the sky... you must have such a powerful connection to your family if they can reach out to you like this. It's a wonderful thing." He wiped his eyes a bit, but the tears kept flowing.

He turned back to look at the lights in the sky, his tail swaying gently behind him. "Do you miss them?" He asked softly.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail was quiet for a long time.

The aurora shimmered above them in endless sheets of blue and green, ribbons twisting on unseen winds. Somewhere out in the darkness, the sea lapped gently against the hull. Beneath that, the ship’s engine gave a distant, contented hum.

Swifttail's ears flicked at Silvertongue’s voice, his gaze still locked on the sky. His expression was unreadable, but his tail curled slowly around his legs in quiet reverence. He finally breathed out through his nose, slow and steady.

“Aye,” he said. “They always told us the spirits danced in the sky. The old ones would bring out the younger ones, bundle us up real tight and sit us on the ridge, tellin' us stories while we watched.”

His voice carried that gentle hush, the kind that settled over campfires and mourning stones. He tilted his head a bit, his silver fur aglow in the aurora’s light.

“My village… Iskatyut... it’s gone now.” His brow creased faintly. “Burned. I was about twenty when they came. Fire everywhere. Screamin’.”

He looked down at his paws, tracing a circle on the deck with one claw.

“I never got to bury 'em. My family. My neighbors. Even the blacksmith.” A small, dry laugh. “He was a cranky old pine marten, but he used to sneak me warm bread when my folks weren’t lookin’.” He looked back to the sky then, his voice barely above the breeze.

“Do I miss them?” he echoed. “Every day. Sometimes it’s sharp. Sometimes it’s just... there. Like a weight in your satchel.”

Swifttail turned to Silvertongue, his gaze softer now, touched with something fragile but warm.

“Most beasts just see lights.” He smiled faintly. “You saw family. That means so much.”

He shifted, eyes returning to the dancing glow.

“We can sit here a while longer, if you like. Let the sky speak. I think... I think they’re glad I’m not watchin’ alone tonight.”

@Silvertongue Songfox

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue smiled and nodded. "Of course."

He stood in silence next to Swifttail, staring up at the stars and lights that danced across the sky.

Time passed, and still Silvertongue said nothing. The truth was, he was so exhausted he had fallen asleep standing up, clinging tightly to the rails of the Crow's Nest

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail stayed quiet, letting the silence breathe between them.

The aurora shimmered on, its ribbons stretching from one end of the heavens to the other. The cold didn’t feel as sharp now. Not with company.

For a while, he thought Silvertongue was simply lost in the view. But then he caught the faint droop of his ears, the slow sway of his body with the rhythm of the ship, and the way his paws gripped the rail like a kit clinging to a blanket.

Swifttail smiled, soft and knowing.

“C’mon,” he whispered.

Careful not to jostle him too hard, Swifttail guided the drowsy fox away from the rail. Silvertongue murmured something, too soft to catch, but didn’t resist as they made their slow way down the rigging.

The deck was quiet as they touched down. A few lanterns flickered. The ocean whispered.

Swifttail helped him down the passage, paws steady, every step slower than his usual pace. He held open the curtain to the bunks and nudged Silvertongue inside, guiding him with a paw beneath the elbow and a quiet patience that never needed words.

He helped ease the sleepy fox into his hammock, tucking a corner of the blanket around him with practiced motion. Silvertongue was already halfway to sleep, his breathing slow and even, his face turned toward some gentler dream.

Swifttail looked at him a moment longer, then reached out and gave the edge of the hammock the smallest, fondest sway.

“Goodnight, Silvie,” he said softly.

Then he turned, climbed into his own bunk, and nestled in with a long exhale.

Above them, the aurora still danced.

And below, two foxes slept soundly beneath the serene starlight.