Dragoncrest Cliffs in a circle there they stand

She's looking for @Thuringwethil.

She was glad that the universe had brought her brother to her, for their reunion and chat had given Emaleth the tools she needed to cut through her own emotions and sort through what she truly wanted for herself. For so long, her identity had been tied to the Mayfair name and to the wood known as Donnelaith— and she wished to discover who she would be without them, standing on her own. She would remain ever loyal to her family, but the dark witch knew old patterns would haunt her if she were to live amongst them. Perhaps someday she would return; for now, she wished to be self-made.

Losing both of her parents had thrust adulthood on shoulders too young for it, and though the idea of a grand adventure across the Wilds to discover herself was appealing, Emaleth desired to lean on experience and stability. She had been tested, certainly, but she did not yet possess the wisdom of experience and age— it was why leadership had been so uncomfortable and undesirable to her. She had lived her life in peace, with no reason to learn to defend herself or to fight to keep it. It would pain Deirdre to learn of it, but the warrior's life appealed to her.

Perhaps she was in a rebellious phase, or perhaps this was who she was meant to be. Regardless of the reason, it felt more right than anything else ever had.

There was only one option in Emaleth's mind that would provide her with all she desired.

She had gone to the Sleeping Dragon, where Thuringwethil had said she made her home— but it seemed abandoned, and the rumbling and clouds of smoke made it seem as though it were actually a Waking Dragon. Emaleth had watched it for a time, but when her efforts to find the fierce woman that led Drageda proved fruitless, the yearling returned to the place where they had met. It seemed a slim chance, but she moved tentatively along the cliffside, mismatched eyes scouring the place for any sign of that dark silhouette.

Having a home base helped, even if it would take ages for this randomly chosen spot to feel like home, if it ever did. Wildfire refused to dwell on it, just as she wouldn't let herself drown in her sorrow over the missing pups. There was so much to be done to establish the pack here. She would leave the marking and patrolling to the pack's guardianship and work on keeping them fed and stocked.

She planned to head inland, though before she could take more than a few steps from her perch on the cliffs, a black figure caught her eye. Wildfire turned toward it, squinting, her fur beginning to bristle a little when she realized it was a stranger. Although she was no guardian, a quick glance around told her that she was otherwise alone, so she would have to intercept the interloper herself.

Then again, Wildfire caught herself thinking as she trotted toward the other wolf, is it really trespassing at this point? They had barely staked a claim here. All the same, she approached with her head and tail high, looking the part of a territorial wolf but stopping short of any authentic aggression. There was even a diplomatic lilt to her voice when she said, "These lands are claimed now."

It didn't take long for a figure to enter her vision, though the fur was a fiery red— not the dark shade of the woman she had met mere days ago. Emaleth paused in her movements, allowing the other to come to her upon reading the dominance in the other's stand. She shrank appropriately, casting her mismatched eyes to look at the ground off to the side. It was strange and different to be standing on this side of the situation; it was oddly freeing. "Oh," the yearling said softly, not quite masking the tone of disappointment. "I'm sorry; I thought the smell of wolves was a hunt passing through."

"I'm looking for someone that was here a few days ago," Emaleth continued carefully and a bit hopefully. "She was from Sleeping Dragon, but when I went there it sounded... angry. No one was there."

"You thought wrong," Wildfire said smoothly, though there was no particular malice in her voice. Although she maintained her dominant posture, she was not inclined toward a physical altercation of any kind. Besides, the other she-wolf willingly submitted and that was enough for her, though she had every intention of escorting her to the borders, even if Wildfire herself wasn't clear on their location just yet...

Before the Bandrona could say anything on the subject, the stranger mentioned that she was looking for someone. Although this did pique her curiosity—and twanged her heart strings as well—Wildfire made no immediate reply. Instead, she motioned for the black stranger to follow her and began moving inland.

She winced slightly at the other's words— not because they were spoken with any aggression, but for the clear gap in her worldly experience— and then nodded her acceptance of their truth. It solidified her decision all the more, to be somewhere that the Mayfair name meant nothing. To be somewhere that would break her of a sheltered life and of naivety. When the fiery woman refused to answer her question, Emaleth fell into a dejected silence and dutifully followed the escort. She supposed she was lucky that she hadn't been killed outright for her error, but she was distressed at the thought of losing something she had set her heart upon.

If there was no other choice, perhaps she could find Freyja again— or, failing that, swallow her pride and find her brother's pack. It wasn't such a bad idea, to live secure somewhere for the winter and strike out again when the weather was less likely to kill her. Still...

"Her name was Thuringwethil," she continued with a sharp intake of breath, feeling as though she was going against protocol once again, but desperately wishing for some sort of answer she could use. Even if it was that the mysterious, dark woman was no longer here. "I'm looking for her because I want to join her."

Although Wildfire listened—the twitch of her large ears gave her away—she did not deign to speak until they reached the area she perceived as the territory's outskirts. Her fellows had already begun lying down scent marks and they were a little more faded by the time she drew to a stop. Still maintaining her posture, she swiveled to face the darker she-wolf more fully, then nodded as if to herself.

"I'm Wildfire, the Bandrona of Drageda," she introduced, "and Thuringwethil's mate. You say you want to join us but you should know that we've recently lost our home. Sleeping Dragon became too dangerous." She bobbed her head again, as if to acknowledge the other woman's earlier words about the angry volcano. "We're establishing ourselves here," she continued, looking around with a sort of blank expression on her face before facing forward again. "You never said who you were."

Although Emaleth was frustrated by the woman's lack of interaction, she remained quiet after her final outburst and followed obediently, halting only when her escort did. She bowed her head closer to the ground and inhaled deeply as if to catalog and note the scent; she wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Before she could even shift awkwardly— was she supposed to leave?— Wildfire introduced herself and acknowledged Emaleth's purpose for (accidentally) trespassing in the first place. She was relieved, at least, that the dark woman she sought was here, though it didn't seem like the other was particularly interested in reintroducing them.

"My name is Emaleth," she answered simply. "I was born in Donnelaith— a week's journey down the coast— but I no longer call it home."

Her name did not strike Wildfire as familiar, though she felt like she'd heard of Donnelaith before. She paused for a long moment, trying to place it, but found herself unable to focus on the niggling thread and pull it closer for inspection. She gave up after a moment, too tired and strained to concern herself with it, shelving the brief feeling of frustration it brought her.

"Can I ask why?" she questioned, the warmth leeching from her voice so that there was an entirely businesslike feel to the entire interaction. Wildfire was aware of it but couldn't bring herself to feel bad for more than a fleeting moment. There was so much going on in her head, heart and life right now, could she really fault herself for being a little stiff with a perfect stranger?

"It's complicated," she explained softly and a bit sadly, her breath a slow exhale. "My father died, and eventually leadership was passed to my twin. I was her second, but I felt more like her shadow. We're too young, and—" Emaleth struggled to explain it all to a perfect stranger, to someone that knew nothing of Donnelaith or the Mayfairs. "I need to figure out what it means to be me, on my own. I can't do that there." She shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably, wondering if that explanation would be adequate. It was a lot to ask, that a strange pack take her in... but Thuringwethil had hinted at the offer, and Emaleth was distressed by the thought of being turned away.

She listened closely, though instead of making a reply to anything Emaleth said, Wildfire's mouth opened to drop a random, "Oh!" on both of them. Catching herself, she cleared her throat and said, "I actually know of Donnelaith. I'm not sure if I know your father or your sister..." She paused, glancing at Emaleth's face. "But my aunt and uncle live there. Do you know Dante and Osprey?" she wondered, cool tone thawing again.

She hadn't expected the other's response and gave her a bit of a bewildered look— at least until Wildfire elaborated. Emaleth, of course, recognized the names of Dante and Osprey and noticed that the fiery woman seemed to be warming to her at least slightly. "Yes," she responded, "for my whole life, until they left with their pups when Deirdre— my sister— took over." She winced to herself, recalling how angry she had been at all that had left with her sister's ascension; here she was, doing the same, for similar reasons. "My father was the druid, Lasher."

Although Wildfire was warming to the conversation, Emaleth was feeling more and more uncomfortable as she was forced to bring up all that she so desperately wished to leave behind. "I really want to start fresh somewhere," she emphasized, "and know the world beyond Donnelaith's borders." She couldn't begin to describe the sheltered life she had within the forest, nor the oddities of her upbringing.

2k!!!

Wildfire's ears bent backward at the news that Dante and Osprey no longer lived among the sentinels. She wondered where they'd gone after leaving Donnelaith. For a split second, she wondered if they might have found their way to the caldera. But then she dismissed the thought nearly out of hand. It didn't make sense, logistically or temporally.

In any event, Emaleth's mention of Lasher snared Wildfire's attention anew. "Lasher as in Taltos?" she asked, eyes brightening. "How—" she began to ask when a little red flag began waving in her head. If her father was dead and Lasher was her father, that meant Lasher was dead. Wildfire swallowed, deciding against probing there.

Thinking over Emaleth's last few words, the Bandrona barked out a hollow laugh. "It won't get much fresher than this," she replied, sweeping out a foreleg to indicate the newness of their claim. "But I know what you mean, Emaleth. Let me call @Thuringwethil for you, as it's her decision." Without further delay, the Bandrona raised her smudged snout into the wintry air and summoned the commander.

The last several day days have easily turned into a blur. She doesn’t know where she is most of the time and the world seems out of place. The home she’d once claimed may be no more for them and no one has voiced their disappointment but she still can’t help but feel she’s already failed them, failed Seageda and the other commanders, as she continues to go wayward.

The sea helps.

Her jaws tighten as a call is made and she immediately turns from her spot to rush toward her mate before she realizes the lack of urgency. Her sprint turns into a gallop and then to a slow trot when she finally spots her mate. It is the presence of another that has her attention and her ears drop as she looks between the two. The closer she gets, she recognizes the other and her postures shifts to something more alert. Her ears return upon her crown, cupped forward, and her shoulders squared.

“Emaleth,” she says softly, surprised. She’d told the girl where she’d be should her interest turn in their favor but glad to see her here upon their makeshift border.

Though her ears twitched and burned at the Bandrona's strangled word— How—, the child was glad that the woman caught herself and ceased that line of questioning. How he was, or how he died were not things Emaleth wished to dwell upon with a perfect stranger. She was already haunted by those questions and his lack of presence in her dreams. She lapsed into a silence that was comfortable (for her), merely nodding after Wildfire's words while they waited for Thuringwethil to arrive.

Thankfully, they didn't need to stand idle for long. The pack's commander stood before them, and the dark witch adjusted her posture lower— though she respected Wildfire's position, it was for the dark woman that Emaleth had the utmost respect, and it was her that she wished to impress the most. "Hello," she responded, a bit lamely. She was young, and this was a position she never thought she would be in. "I've decided. I'd like to join you, if you'd have me. I'll do whatever is required of me."

Their time had been brief but the desired information had gotten across or else the woman may not be standing here before her. She proves to be a good scout, able to get her way around and she suspects she can easily be of some use. Her head nods once in silence acceptance and a hint of a smile upon her features. In light of Gyda and Gavriel departing, their home lost, she is sure they will eventually regain their footing and continue on.

“We have lost our home,” she says then, glancing toward Wildfire but her gaze returns. “We are trying to regain our footing. Hunting, marking, we are all working hard right now.” It is certainly not that they don't always work hard but it is times like these she really gets to see it.

Her heart fluttered in anticipation as she waited for the fierce woman's answer, and she felt it swell as Thuringwethil seemed agreeable to the idea. Unsure if it was the right thing to do, or even welcome, the yearling moved to bump her muzzle beneath the commander's chin— a sign of respect and deference to the woman, sealing her fate upon these cliffs. "I understand," she responded, doing her best to stifle the excitement and joy in her voice— to remain mature and measured. "I will defend these borders to the death," she swore, briefly trying on a warrior's skin. "I will earn my keep."

The commander didn't make them wait, arriving within moments of her mate's soft summons. Wildfire noticed Thuringwethil's look of mild surprise, though she made no comment. In fact, she stepped aside and remained quiet, letting her superior take point. Within minutes, Emaleth was welcomed into their fold by the Heda.

"Well, I'm heading out to hunt," the Bandrona announced, exchanging a brief smile with the other two that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Either of you is welcome to join me, of course," she added, taking a tentative step forward and then hustling inland once she knew whether this would be a solo, duo or trio hunting party.