Fortunately, pups don't take a lot of care, especially in the first few fortnights when their eyes aren't even open yet and they can't do much more than waddle and nurse. But that's also unfortunate, because tending the pups was the best part of Heriwulf's day.
Of course, tending pups would be the best part of anyone's day, because who doesn't love pups? Roly-poly and eager, waddling so clumsily, trying to explore and play even though they can't yet stand or see, huddling together for warmth, clinging to anyone who touches them with such affection. Other than Brunan's guarding stares, pup-tending is nothing but joy. Heriwulf idly imagined bringing them to town and charging people a penny just to look at the pups. He figured he'd come away with a full pouch.
But for Heriwulf tending the pups meant so much more, because it was the one time, the only time, when he felt like he was in his right place, he knew what was to be done, and was able to do it. Training Maddoct in how to train his new puppy (not from Cutleaf, but he wasn't sure where it had come from) had been a similarly heart-healing break from the strains of the rest of his life. When he was a hound-friend, he was himself; but these last few fortnights, he had been himself less and less of the time.
Faron had just left. Left the settlement, as far as he knew, or perhaps she had more farewells to say first, or preparations to make, he wasn't sure. Either way, she was gone from his life. He was surprised she'd even said a farewell to him. Probably she'd really been saying farewell to Scorn, the runt of the litter who she had claimed, and he'd blundered into it and she'd felt obligated. It was an awkward farewell, and though he'd tried to insist that he would miss her, and not just for her skill at hunting, she didn't seem to believe him, and it all felt futile. Like most things involving her.
In fact, as he wondered if, despite her announced plans, she might choose not to return at all, amongst the many regrets that came with that idea (most of which he'd been over and over in his head practically since the first day he'd locked horns with her) was that he had agreed to offer himself as chieftain specifically as part of the deal he'd made with her that convinced her to stay. Every day now, pretty nearly everything he did that wasn't about tending the hounds, was an abyss of loneliness, of feeling incapable and lost, because of that decision. He was a terrible chieftain, he knew it, and the harder he tried to set the right tone, the more he made a mess of things. When he thought Far-Scout would have projected calm and confidence, everyone thought he was being dismissive; but when he tried to embody urgency, people thought he was being demanding. And it was the same with everything else. He hadn't contributed a single idea yet that the clan hadn't shot down (except maybe the one about message sticks, though Hildegund seemed dubious about not just using fletched arrows). He never seemed to be able to tell what they were thinking or feeling; every moot, especially the larger ones (they'd had ten people at the last one!) was just a sea of significant glances he couldn't divine the meaning of. He could never tell when he should mind his own business and leave people their privacy (especially since most of the clan had paired off, Ljota with Hildegund, and Faron with Gelvira), and when he should intervene to protect his clanmates from some unintended hurt.
So every day was the twin pains of feeling trapped in a position he couldn't live up to, and feeling isolated and lonely (and trying to hide it, but Ljota at least could sense it). All that, for an agreement to keep Faron from leaving, and she was leaving anyway. Ostensibly to guard her sister's road to the Vales, and to ask Radagast for aid as they passed (since he couldn't yet send Brunan), and then to return, perhaps with aid. Another dozen hardy men and women from the Vales to spend a season (or longer, if they wished) driving off the orcs, and the clan would be saved. But even if they came, would she return with them? And if she didn't, how long would he have to continue playing at being a chieftain? For that matter, how long, if she did return?
So, back to tending the pups even when there was nothing really they needed, because it kept him busy. He was mostly waiting for Gelvira to be ready to go into town, to show her around, and make inquiries about selling some of her crafts. Though they were doing well on pennies again; he'd made six silver pennies teaching Maddoct and would make the same again teaching Ellie Cutleaf how to train a dog to help a sightless girl he'd met in Bree. And Faron had left a great deal more of her earnings before she left. Still, a source of more pennies from Gelvira's skillful craftsmanship would go a long way to ensuring they could hire sellswords if needed, and buy supplies like healing salves (Leohna was now staying at the lodge to serve as a healer, so they'd need to keep her stocked, without Faron to make salves), and still have enough to buy livestock after this was all over. Going into town was his other escape from the pressure of pretending to be a chieftain, so he was looking forward to it; yet at the same time dreading it, because as much as Heriwulf worried Faron might not return, and would miss her, Gelvira must be feeling twice as much hurt and uncertainty, He wondered if she blamed him for Faron's departure. He certainly did. So the journey wouldn't feel nearly as much of an escape as tending the pups.
Breon, Hildegund's new pup, had already opened his eyes. He was the biggest, the first born, and sure to be the first to do everything. He had even managed to get himself up onto his legs and walk a few steps. The others should open their eyes within a day or two, and be ready to walk within a sennight, about the same day Aelfrida would be finishing the stockade (with help from Jessandra of the trapper's camp in adding traps to it). Once they were walking, he would be spending most of his time on training, for a few fortnights, and he couldn't be happier about that. Something he knew, something he was good at, something he had no reason to be uncertain about. If only he could put aside everything else and just be a hound-friend again.
