Sleeping Dragon Here comes the future, it’s violent and bright

Not a shred of evidence had surfaced of anything he knew, and so he hadn’t stayed anywhere for long. He had the mountains where he roamed then, and with that his longing for the sea was sated. More often than not, the choice between one or the other had to be made, and Toxochelys was certain he would not be drawn any further east.

The tawny seabeast had only just begun to traverse the northern expanse of the Teekon Wilds when a scent drifted to him on the oppressive summer breeze. There was something so tantalizingly familiar about it that he stopped dead in his tracks, then proceeded to make his way towards the source and the mountain’s base by extension at a swift lope. The slightest wisp of dark smoke drifted up snakily from the peak of the Sleeping Dragon as he made his approach.

Drawing nearer more quickly than he had anticipated, he slowed and investigated with meticulous care to discover with a slow-forming grin that the scent he sought with fervour laced the territory beyond as a boundary. They had drawn their line in the mountain’s stone instead of the sand. He tossed his head with a coltish sort of revelry, then galloped away perhaps a mile in the direction he’d arrived. When he had placed enough distance between himself and their home, he paced once and loosed a strong, but very personal howl. It was meant for @Thuringwethil alone.

The howl comes from the northern borders and sets into an easy trot until she's able to zero in on her location. With Gyda having stepped down, and Thuringwethil taking the sole lead, hadn't changed much. She'd been out for the last few weeks anyway with the puppies and she finds it easy to settle into a routine that once mimicked her former reign. The tension built up over the last few months had begun the release and Drageda's glory it's meant for.

As she comes through a few trees at the base of the mountain, the scent of a stranger catches her attention. Recognition doesn't settle in yet as she follows it away from her borders. There's a pull she can't explain, that she only blames the drive to find the origin of her call—maybe that's all it is.

However, she's quickly given an answer upon her arrival and the gruff looking male standing in the distance.

"Unrequited love is awful, isn't it?"

The young interloper watched as the subject of his personal request trotted into view a generous distance away. She was a streak of wild darkness, rangy and angular, and she moved with fluid certainty reserved for Heda. Although largely unfamiliar with their language, he was as aware of the Commander’s title as he was aware of her renown. He gazed on, steadfast in his intensity, and she met him with a quip. There was little that could have pleased him more, but he didn’t answer it directly.
 
"I didn’t expect to find you here," he said instead, flicking one of his ears idly to remove an insect that had perched there. He had expected to find the Aloadae along the way, and he had hardly thought of Seageda’s inner turmoil and Thuringwethil’s proceeding exodus. He had never actually anticipated the eventuality of unearthing that past. Now that he had found her, however, nothing interested him more. Lose one thing, find another, he considered.
 
"I’m not disappointed," he clarified with a larkish glimmer of his eyes.

“I’ve been getting that a lot lately,” she says with a quirk of an eyebrow. Her tail lashes once—playfully—above her spine as she closes the step between them and eases up strain she has for a loner on her borders. “Guess I could say the same about you,” she throws back with one indifferent shrug.

Most days, Thuringwethil doesn't except seeing a wolf from her past to be a surprise--the call to former Seageda wolves had been made should they wish to return to her direct reign, but wolves that don’t have the affiliation they do causes a little concern. The wolves that caused corruption with Seageda hadn’t necessarily been found, but taken care of—from her understanding—but had all of them fallen? Who better to get to her than someone she knows and could trust?

Toxochelys doesn’t necessarily give her that feeling, and neither had Kierkegaard.

“Seageda succumbed to corruption and I had to cleanse it. A whole new location seemed to be the best idea and we have survived despite the odds,” she tells him, though his story still remains a mystery. “We are in communication with Trigeda still but our alliance is weak due to distance. But you,” she pauses, and tries to fish for what she wants to ask, “why are you here?”

Had he gotten news of their new claim upon Vercingetorix’s returning message? Trigeda would have spread the information to those necessary, to those concerned, that Heda’s reign remains strong, even if weeks of travel away.

Toxochelys leaned forward with a stretch of his long, powerful limbs as Thuringwethil closed the distance between them. With just a step or two forward, he touched the scarred bridge of his muzzle to the Commander’s chin out of deep respect and as a nod to shared interactions of the past. He was not near to her as those of her enclave were, but there was a degree of understanding between them, if not tepid familiarity. Once he had acknowledged this, he collected his weight a little more evenly beneath him, causing him to shift back ever so slightly.
 
Without being asked, Thuringwethil accommodated his voracious curiosity by briefly describing the events that had transpired the previous year. At most, the tawny male had heard fleeting murmurs, and he had certainly not asked for information from the mouth of anyone he didn’t trust. He’d known few of Seageda and even fewer of Trigeda whom he felt would confide to the extent his lofty expectations desired.
 
"I returned from training in the north to find both the greenery and the Aloadae gone," he explained, "so I travelled south." His half of the unspoken information bargain was delivered about as concisely as hers had been. He had never been convinced one way or another, and so he said nothing more, but the reasoning had weighed on his mind in the beginning. Had the locusts actually driven them out, or had their unattached natures led them elsewhere after generations of caring for that swath of coast? Perhaps, having known them even on an essential level, Thuringwethil would assume the latter.
 
"I’m here because your scent on these borders diverged with my path," he rumbled roguishly. With no ties to speak of, his "path" had become a labyrinth.

For a wolf that knows her, her way of life, the wolves she reigns over, giving information isn’t a far stretch. It’s all information, if he knew where to go, that he can easily get for himself. Around Trigeda, it’s likely common knowledge at this point. Heda Thuringwethil hasn’t been defeated and, instead, rebirthing their capital away from the corruption. If successful, another branch would open up somewhere between where they are and Trigeda themselves, to make communication even quicker, but for now she focuses on the Wilds and the land beneath her paws.

“I am sorry to hear. Any sign of a fight?” she asks, curious—enemies weren’t hard to come by there, Thuringwethil quickly learned.

Thuringwethil quickly becomes more interested in the rest of what he has to say, having been drawn to the mountain. Not because he’d been searching for her, not to begin with, but she simply happen to be in his way. Fate or free will aren’t topics she considers much, nor is it embedded into her future, for the debate is useless—regardless of the answer, they continue to live.

“You found me.”

Heda expressed interest in what had happened in the north, but the tawny male had very little to convey. "Nothing," he affirmed resolutely. "But I may have arrived too late to know," he added, leaving ample room for doubt. It was possible that either Trigeda, Seageda, or one of the other clans who controlled the region could have enlightened him. If the answer was foul play, however, he felt sure he had made the correct decision: keep things quiet for the time being.

While the Whalesbone wolves had not been inclined to outward displays of aggression, they had been battle-ready since the very beginning. Simply because they had not provoked conflict did not meant that enemies had not come knocking on their coastal hold. Toxochelys, having no proof one way or another, was not to know the transpired events for certain. He was either a lousy tracker or the Aloadae had meant to be elusive. Even to their own.
 
He let silence creep between them when she overtly recognized their chance encounter, taking the moment to watch her carefully as she stood before him. Despite not being one for nostalgia or sentimentalities, it all came flooding back to him.

"Is my life useful to you?" he finally asked. He perceived more benefits on his side of a loyalty promise than he could count on hers, but perhaps she had lost the once great strength of her guard along the way and new blood would bolster them. He didn’t wait for her to answer. "You can have it," he proposed. Better the devil you know.

The situation remains a mystery to the both of them but he doesn’t seem terribly torn up about it and she doesn’t linger on it for much longer. On to the next thing, it seems, because she’s not given the chance to extend an invitation. Her brows quips upward and she slowly nods her head.

“Welcome home,” she then says and closes the distance between them to bump her nose against his muzzle and inspect the rest of him that she hadn’t been able to standing so far back. She comes back around to his front once everything seems okay for a travel weary man and her scent his on him in return. “Come with me,” she encourages, bumping his shoulder as she leads the way back to her borders.

A slow nod was all he needed from her, and he stood still to allow her to inspect him as comprehensively as she cared. His journey had been long, from Boneshaker Bluff even further north to the Teekon Wilds where he stood, but it was nothing he hadn’t endured before. His weight would return with the assurance of a pack and he was young and fit enough to withstand nearly anything. Thuringwethil bumped his shoulder, and with that he was at hers.
 
He would walk with her now to the very end of the earth, should she decide to lead him there.

"Who did you bring with you?" he asked, thoroughly curious. Since her departure, he had not had much contact with Seageda. Part of him had steered clear so as not to bring unnecessary attention to Whalesbone Sound, and another part of him had simply lacked interest. He had assumed that anyone worth a mention had left with the dark Heda.

He slips up beside her and there’s nothing unnatural about it. Toxochelys had never been apart of Seageda, or one of it’s branches, but close enough that she’d run into him a time or two. He’d proven himself to her without realizing it and thus nothing else had been needed upon the borders. She moves with him in tow, moving toward one of the spots he will need to know in the future. Now that things had changed, to an extent, it would be easier, rather than throwing a new wolves into the mix of the unknown.

“I came here alone and found a friend of mine, from Odinn’s Cove. South of Seageda,” she explains, uncertain if he’s aware of the viking neighbors. “We took claim of this mountain and the invitation for the others followed. Those from home,” she pauses, glancing toward him, realizing she doesn’t know exactly who else he might know, “Gavriel, Rebekka, and Saria.” The list is short these days without the former wolves that had once been apart of their ranks. “Gyda stepped down recently and Drageda can properly grow, but there are things you’ll need to know.”

A tree blocks their way, to her surprise, and she examines it in her pause. A recent storm had likely taken it down but it’s new to her, roots freshly ripped from the ground. Before advancing over the trunk, she hesitates back for the time being. “There is a pack north west of us we do not have good relations with. They are not tolerated anywhere close to our borders and so far they’ve obeyed. They have an earth, sweet scent to them,” she explains the best she could, remembering the last grotto wolf she’d been with—Jhala—and what she’d carried on her coat.

He had devoted himself, no questions asked. It had been that fast. Toxochelys had moments ago been a dangerously unfettered predator with only his own will to go by. Thuringwethil had remedied his ailment simply by showing up, and she wasted no time in filling him in, for which he was appreciative. The tawny seabeast was loathe to be caught unaware under any circumstances. He would need the details she offered to keep to their best interests.

She began with names, with the famous Odinn’s Cove first to receive a mention. He recognized Gavriel of her own wolves, and was not surprised to learn that he would find him there. Of the other two, he was ultimately uncertain. He knew to attach Gyda’s name to the previous note regarding Odinn’s Cove despite the fact that he had never met her. He was an aggressive guardian, first and foremost, but Toxochelys knew his facts.

The Commander stopped at a fallen tree on their route, and appeared as though she was noting it for the first time. His violently orange gaze shifted to observe her as she explained their relations with a pack to the northwest. This, perhaps, was one of the most important details to him personally. The fact that they had obeyed orders thus far only meant that they hadn’t been given enough time to disobey, in his experience. There would always be one who would.

"What else can you tell me?" he pressed her, hungry for further intelligence.

The one thing consistent with their enemies, however grand, her wolves have kept themselves out of trouble. They never crossed the river with the tension between them and the maplewood and so far the grotto wolves have been kept at bay. She wouldn't risk their safety without educating all their new members, unlike Reek whose miscommunication gets him into trouble every time. It's a matter of time before he slips up again.

"When we were making out claim, the leader of the maplewood to the south of us set up an agreement. Neither of us would hunt opposite side of the river," she begins as she advances upon on tree and makes an easy climb until she's on the other side. As she lands, she turns to face Toxochelys again as he makes the cross. "One of their wolves crossed over after a rabbit. Things changed after that, we were threatened with war, but the leader that made the agreement was forced from the maplewood into the grotto where he had tried to betray me. We've since chased off the pack to the south and only have the other to worry about."

Once Toxochelys is on the other side of the tree, she begins the ascent back toward the meeting spot.

She went on to explain, pausing only briefly as she proficiently traversed the fallen tree. He pricked his ears as he leapt to gain purchase and stand on the trunk in what appeared to be an awkward display for a wolf of his size. His dull claws flexed to grip the bark beneath his splayed toes, but there was no sign of exertion to keep his hold written tellingly in his expression. Perfectly balanced by a strenuously trained physique, he made a cat-like descent a moment later and was at Thuringwethil’s shoulder again as she finished speaking and continued on. He glanced side-long at her then, trying to judge how long it might have been since their last encounter. He couldn’t be sure, and so he let his train of thought go.
 
"One pack to worry about is enough," he acknowledged, letting her know she hadn’t lost his ears along the way. His easily rolling shoulders kept him in stride with her, something he would never have done if others had come to join them. In such a case, Toxochelys would have taken a rightful place somewhere to the rear, but here, alone with the Commander, he was a comrade and a long-time acquaintance. Formalities had their place. He did, however, tag along at her side in utter submission.
 
"What do you call this branch of Seageda?" he asked, knowing he was potentially interrupting the flow of information.

Once Toxochelys is on this side of the fallen tree, she falls into a normal strut in the direction they’d been going. They make the rest of the trip fairly easily and their exchange is brief in that moment. When she comes to a stop to an overhand, upon the edge, she peers over. A deathly fall, should one tip over, and a solid tree to the left and one barely hanging on to the right. It is then she finally turns away from the view over the valley and the river and back to him.

“Drageda.” A name suiting them and the legacy they are creating. “Trigeda is still apart of us but their distance makes it difficult. I imagine another branch will show up between us and them to make communication easier. And perhaps another one here in these lands as we continue to grow,” she says, musing. The information isn’t known much through the mountain but an inevitable future she plans to uphold. “This is where we meet. We met just a few days ago when Gyda decided to step down.”

Thuringwethil takes a deep breath and offers him a smile, comforting on her own features and often few and far between. Sleeping Dragon felt much more like Drageda in a matter of days and the changes set in place and a tension in her shoulders she’d been unable to shake since the beginning had eased up. The spirits she houses gives her a break and, once more, she can properly rule her wolves.

The initiate’s powerful shoulders rolled with every sauntering stride as he followed his newly accepted commander. He passed alongside the perilous overhang with a long, hard glance at the view, committing its place in their course ahead to memory as he followed closely. A slight instinctive tingle worked its way down the length of his spine to remind him of the sheer vulnerability of such a height, but the picturesque panorama was impressive enough that he didn’t look away until Heda spoke. He remained relaxed and attentive, and Thuringwethil’s voice in his ear had his attention locked down in seconds.
 
She noted the distance between the clans as an obstacle they could overcome, and Toxochelys nodded. Their strength, if not forged in the fires of physically onerous training, was in intimidating numbers, and the idea that they might one day be able to effectively pass information on to the others in the north resonated with him. The mention of a leader stepping down, however, piqued his curiosity, and he did not hold back the obvious question on his mind. "Why did Gyda step down?" He cast his gaze in her direction, plainly searching for the answer. Supposing she had needed the secondary support in the beginning, he watched her intently with every doubt that she needed it now.

"She decided to put her attention to motherhood," she explains. There isn't much loss in her voice but she wonders if it had been delayed a season, if Gyda would remain at her side. Thuringwethil felt it to be the right decision when it had been made and hadn't forced her to keep the title of Queen. The shift in their dynamic had changed little but Sleeping Dragon had encompassed Drageda life easily. Gyda remains special to the foundation of their claim, that much won't change, but the young leader can only move forward with their growth.

They spend a little more time together, Thuringwethil shows him around a little more, before she ultimately leaves him to his own devices.