Dorjelang/Story: Difference between revisions

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He came here for a reason... but he couldn't remember what.

|s3_title =

|s3_title =Dandelions on the Snowy Mountain

|s3_reward = 300

|s3_text =

|s3_text =It was the ninth day of Dorjelang's arduous journey across the endless mountains.

He had prepared himself for the inevitable solitude that came with leaving home, but as he woke from a dream, he found a figure basking under the moon.

Doggie, his childhood companion, had secretly followed him. It was grinning and lolling its tongue, as if to say, "Took you long enough to notice me."

The old herders used to tell the story of how a flood once swept little Dorjelang out of the shed where he'd been sunbathing. When they finally found him, Doggie was whimpering, and Dorjelang was crying even louder.

The two little ones had just opened their eyes and were wrestling each other under an ownerless hat. Everyone thought they'd go their separate ways, but some bonds, once formed, could only deepen.

As time passed, Dorjelang grew up to be the weakest in the tribe, while Doggie became the alpha of the canines. However, the herders had always suspected that Doggie was actually a grassland wolf.

Whenever it tried to howl, Dorjelang would gently hold its muzzle shut, worried that it might leave with a wolf pack that picked up the call.

Doggie's name was simply Doggie. It stayed by Dorjelang's side through everything like a faithful guardian — herding with him, wrestling with him, accompanying him on pilgrimages to mountain tops...

Even now, it wanted to keep him company on his journey away from home.

Unable to convince Doggie to leave, Dorjelang could only watch as it busied itself with scouting the path ahead, lagging behind, catching up again, and panting breathlessly with stalks of foxtail in its mouth, and even a rabbit... ''Wait, drop that right now!''

Strange, this was supposed to be a journey that took them farther and farther away from home, but with Doggie's company, every day, he felt blessed with luck like all the days before.

Still, danger and uncertainty drew ever closer, and when he picked up the dull cracking sounds echoing through the quiet mountains, he knew an avalanche was coming.

By the time he woke up between a slush of mud and snow, he had no idea how long he'd been buried. A wet tongue licked his eyes, blurring the moon in his vision, and under it, he saw Doggie whimpering and digging through the snow.

''So the deity has blessed me after all!'' he thought and smiled, not daring to make a sound for fear of stirring the mountain again.

Doggie had suffered a broken hind leg and a gash on its scalp. Dorjelang applied some medicinal herbs to the wound and grabbed some foxtail to weave a little hat, so as to keep Doggie from scratching its head.

Holding his companion, Dorjelang thought about turning back to their village, but the way back was even longer than continuing forward. Doggie barked furiously in protest, as if to say, "All my work would have been for nothing if you turned back now."

Man and dog then traveled even farther. Deep in the night by a stream, Dorjelang rested his head on his luggage and watched as Doggie snored beside him. He hadn't noticed the whites in its fur before, realizing just how old it had grown.

''.It's only minor iniuries, we'll heal soon.'' He told himself as he fell asleep.

Wolf howls came to Dorjelang's dreams, and he tried opening his eyes. Unsure if they were actually opened, Dorjelang believed he saw Doggie on a moonlit hill with head raised to the sky. Its graying fur seemed to glow as it let out the longest unfettered cry in its life, and the woods answered with an echoing chorus of wolfsong.

When he woke from the dream, the moonlit figure was gone, and next to him, there was only the foxtail hat.

His companion had kept watch under the moon, coming and departing in soft silence. No mountains or rivers, nor winds of the highlands could ever scatter the memories of its devoted silhouette.

Though years may pass, its form remains, timeless beneath the moonlight's glow. Though the permafrost before dawn may never melt, the warmth in his heart endures.

It was the thirty-ninth day of Dorjelang's arduous journey across the endless mountains.

He stood at a station in the Starsea and glanced back at the dawn-gilded peaks of his homeland. He tucked the little foxtail hat into his luggage and moved on.

The boy, once sheltered by so many, had finally made it over the mountains.

|s4_title =Over the Mountain Far From Home