Sleeping Dragon as the bone-wrench

A wild  (specifically a guardian) thread appears!

While Gyda was brimming with the pride she felt at the accomplishment that her and Thurin's followers had made, surely the biggest one to date: making their claim upon Sleeping Dragon official, the viking queen understood the simple knowledge that her work had only just begun. Settling on the familiar metaphorical throne was familiar, as was the responsibilities laid out before her paws. The elk they had taken down as their first official pack hunt had filled their bellies and their caches and with this, Gyda was deeply pleased. They were vastly different from one another, from what the shield-maiden could see and yet the fact that they seemed to work well as a cohesive unit did not escape the Scandinavian's notice. This was a very good thing. This made them strong, strong beyond their numbers. Ragnar had taught her that it was the strength of bond that held a pack together and in time Gyda hoped to aid in strengthening these with them. Thuringwethil, too, had her own things to tend too, and Gyda did not mind sharing the burden of leadership with the ebony woman. In fact, she was glad to have the woman by her side.

Her thoughts and thus her attention, shifted back to her patrol, eyes of icy caribbean scanning the land beyond their claim — the free territories that lay beyond for any signs of potential threats.

Maybe... we can.. have a friendly talk?

 For a wolf to travel far, he must be strong, physically and mentally. James.. well, James wasn't the best wolf for traveling. But, luckily, something kept him going, running his old pack. 
 
 James was trotting across this unfamiliar place with enthusiasm. At first, he was sprinting, then a jog, and now a trot. He hummed a cheerful tune as he made his way just like little red riding hood. He suddenly halted, winced at his stupidity, and backed away from the border as if it was armed with lasers. Well, it had something worse, a guard wolf at the borders. His muscles tensed with anticipation.

I just want to put out here that Gyda's actions/thoughts are purely her own and have no bearing how I feel OOCly. c: Feel free to pp if Gyda makes contact with him or not.

Would Gyda not have been right there when the lone male had traipsed right across the borders of Sleeping Dragon the digression might not have been known until it was too late to do much of anything about it. However, while Gyda was not right on top of that stretch of borders she had been in sight of it and had witnessed the trespass. It was unfortunate but it could not be taken back. Though he was quick to correct himself the territorial shield-maiden was already seeing red — as if she consumed the berserker mushrooms her male counterparts ate before battle. The snarl wrenched itself from her lips, resounding deep in her throat, a guttural noise that gave vocalization to her unbidden anger. His correction did nothing to soothe her, did not please her. Their borders were strong, quite freshly marked and the fact that he had ignored them made him either foolish or useless.

Her hackles bristled as her tail rose over her back, ears slicking back to her skull before she rushed at him, unable to believe the audacity he had to stand there and stare at her after he had committed a crime that she had no forgiveness for.  Ragnar had not taught his daughter to take trespassing lightly. It was a crime punishable by death or indentured servitude — the latter of which had been her father's favorite. 

She neared him, unafraid and furious with the intent to put him in his place and if he did not move or run away she intended to lunge herself at him, jaws parted.

save the James D:

   James had a second to move out of the way, and thank god he did. "Whoa, hey!", he began. He backed away from the female and the borders. "We- I didn't mean to come into your pack, I just..", James stopped, lost for words. Should he say that he was looking for a new pack? Well, he didn't know yet.  He glanced back at the wolf, careful not to look her in the eyes. "I don't know," he said, after some silence. He made sure he was ready to flee, just in case. His ears twitched nervously.

He moved suddenly, any later in his reaction and she would have plowed into him, but as it was her teeth snapped together viciously, closing around empty air and the force of her hurl had her skidding on her paws for a moment as she shot past him and scrambled to face him, snow and dirt flying as she let lose another snarl, holding herself up high, her lips quivering back from her teeth as he began to back up. She did not (yet) lunge for him again. She pushed forward, ghosting forward for every step back he took. She was backing him up, away from her borders. Away from her home. He was getting further from the borders but it was not far enough. Far enough was about the start of Whitebark Stream and even that was too close for her personal liking. His surprise at her reaction only made her more enraged. What was he raised by? Sheep? Because in her standards it had not been by wolves by any stretch of her imagination.

His misspeak went unnoticed by the shield-maiden as she continued to ghost him, obviously startled by her hostility, and offering her thin condolences that he didn't mean to do it. He stopped moving, and Gyda, for the moment, stopped as well. He was still too close for her liking but she intended to humor him, though not for long. There was nothing he could say that would make him look any better to the viking queen, though his fail of offering her a satisfactory explanation (not that there was truly any sort of satisfactory explanation to offer her) was weak. 

“Either your nose fails to work or you are entirely incapable,” The Scandinavian spat at him. She'd heard enough (even though she barely heard much of anything, admittedly). “Get away from my lands before I tear your lungs out of your body.” She threatened and as if to prove that she was morbidly quite serious she rushed at him again, with the full intention to attack. She would not let him go without something to remind him of the consequence of his actions...whether he meant to or not; even if it meant she would have to chase him.

last post! (It's on my iPad so I apologize if there are mistakes)

Clearly, now James has full proof (not really) that every goddamn wolf is bloodthirsty. He had a slight hope that maybe, just maybe, this wolf was different. But noooooo, the next wolf he met just had to attack him. 

A sudden burst of pain shot up his back, left leg as he turned to run. He instantly began running, fueled by the adrenaline of the pain. Despite the situation, James felt slightly guilty. "We're- I'm sorry, alpha!", he called to her as he tucked in his tail and ran for his life.

Now, he ran looking for shelter and somewhere to clean his wound. The harsh winter would push him onto look for a pack, preferably a less violent one.

I'll go ahead and archive this. c:

Would he not have trespassed — mistake or not — the viking queen would have seen no reason to chase him from her lands, nor to attack him. Yet any chance he might have had with joining their ranks ...if that had been what he'd been after was completely ruined. He had turned from her and she latched onto his leg, teeth sinking viciously into him, his blood beginning to pool in her mouth. She could have taken him down, or at least severely crippled him and then taking him down. She could have but she did not, instead releasing her grip upon him. Though running was undoubtedly the best thing he could have done, for Gyda would have tried to kill him would he have stayed and fought her, it also made him a coward to the shield-maiden whom had been raised by a harsh culture that did not run from fights. This was better, she decided as she watched him run like the fires of Hel was on his heels. Sleeping Dragon did not need, nor want cowards in their ranks. 

Letting him live and retreat instead of forcing him to stay and fight her would mean that he would surely spread the word of them, of what they did to those stupid enough to trespass on their lands. Though the damage she'd done to James was nothing compared to what the Scandinavian could and would do to the next trespasser she caught.