Wolf RPG

Night had stolen over the Wilds quickly, sooner than Gyda had initially anticipated coupled by the light snow that had begun to fall at some point in the day. She had spoken her goodbyes to Krypton though she did not believe it to be the last time she would see the Silvertip female. For now, though, it could be some time for Gyda believed that once Sleeping Dragon was established and Thurin and her staked their claim upon the land that her time traveling would be limited. She hadn't seen Ragnar travel outside of Stavanger Bay's borders, unless it was an exception. There were some things that her father preferred to handle on his own than let it to a messenger. Gyda had admired this about him the most: he stood by his actions and accepted the consequences of them; and when he felt it was a matter that a leader should handle he went into the fray alone and wholly unafraid. Perhaps this absence of fear had made him seem to be invincible as she'd always believed him to be as a child. He had survived many fights, won many battles, had endured the pain of the intentional scars to prove his devotion to the Gods. These laws she held to when she had claimed her title as Drottning in Odinn's Cove and it was these that she would uphold in Sleeping Dragon. He inspired her still, always. 

The Scandinavian had sought the shelter of Neverwinter Forest, shielded from the biting wind and snowfall by the towering wintergreen's that stood like a fortress against the harsher elements. She did not know if she would linger here through the night. She wished to return to Thurin and Sleeping Dragon but she had to weigh if that choice was wise. The snowfall was light yet and these woods offered some shelter from the elements but it could pick up and strand her. Her decision was up in the air as she made her way through the forest, towards it's heart, pausing only when she heard a strange noise. Ears of silver velveteen cupped forth as the guard hairs along her spine bristled with unbidden caution. Curious, she followed the noise and soon came across what was, initially a comical scene to her. A wolf — the scent told her that he was a mix but it mattered little to her — had his head in what appeared to be a hollowed out log and the scent of raccoon told her that it was not a vacant one. A soft laugh escaped the viking queen's lips, amused.

“Do you need help?” The shield-maiden teased ever so slightly in her accented voice, letting her presence be known if her chuckle hadn't given her away; though her request had, in and of itself been serious.

She had caught the hybrid's attention, claiming it away from the raccoon he had been previously sparring with. His head withdrew from the hollowed log, thin scratches across the black leather of his nose. Absently, Gyda considered that she could probably scrounge up something for the pain it no doubt caused him and keep it from getting infected. Before she'd left with Nerian she had taken a particular interest in ritualistic plants and medicines — though one she had to see Ragnar for and the other she had to glean Thistle's knowledge for. Since her first departure from Stavanger Bay, however, she had not pursued it further. Her focus had been on her fighting and leading skills, strictly. He did not speak instead letting out a strange rattling sort of bark. Gyda understood well enough what he meant: he was admitting that he did, indeed, need her aid.

For a moment she was unsure of just how she could have any further luck getting it out than he did. She drew nearer, elegant and pretty plains of her face set in contemplation, her steps slow and calculated. Her neck craned ever so slightly to see if the log was hollow the entire way through. If it was, she could sneak up on the behind and force it towards his waiting grasp. “We give it no option of escape,” She began to speak her plan aloud to him. “I will come at it from the other side and force it towards you and when it is close enough you make your move.” One of them was bound to get it, at least. She looked at him once, naturally expecting her plan to be followed before he lowered to her belly and crawled into the spacious opening opposite of the hybrid.

The plan was simple enough, though they had to account for the hostility of the animal currently making what would surely be it's last stand in the hollowed out trunk. For what reason her hybrid companion wanted it Gyda did not know and for all intents and purposes it truly did not matter. She assumed it was to be his meal for that was generally the reason she bothered other animals. For meals ...and sacrifices to the Gods she dutifully worshiped as Ragnar had done. It had became aware of their plan the moment Gyda had began to crawl into it's hiding place. It snarled at her and she let out a low snarl of her own, her lips curling back from her teeth, ears pinned to her skull.

Her companion snapped at it, stealing its attention away from her and she moved closer snapping her teeth at it's back while it was to her, sharp canines grazing the fur. It panicked and pushed itself further away from her — though with little else to go this put the raccoon within the hybrid's reach. Unwilling to back down Gyda continued to creep towards it, hoping that the hybrid would make his move soon, though the shield-maiden was sure the raccoon only had a small matter of time before it's life was ended regardless.

Between the two of them it did not take long for the hybrid to accomplish what Gyda assumed to be his original goal. As the Scandinavian pushed the raccoon closer to her companion he was able to grab a hold of it. The woodland creature let out a scream of pain ...and perhaps of terror. Perhaps it was a contradiction to Gyda's slight size and beauty but such a noise did not bother her in the slightest. She'd heard bigger creatures let out a similar noise — most notably her uncle in their death match. That had not bothered her, either. She was a shield-maiden, and a Viking. To her people death was the ultimate goal. She embraced death as she embraced life.

As the hybrid yanked the raccoon from the log Gyda backed herself out of it, shaking her fur free of mossy debris when she was able to stand clear of the hollowed log as Hush ended the woodland creature's life. Gyda was contemplative as she studied the hybrid, free of the distractions. He appeared to be strong, the quiet type by far, and clearly capable of taking down prey. Her help was diminutive in the long run, besides, packs hunted together as a cohesive unit most of the time. Aid or not having aid was not something she weighed heavily upon.

The offer of the meal was acknowledged by the viking queen but ultimately rejected with a small smile. “It is your kill,” She protested albeit with kindness. “besides I am not hungry,” She gestured with her muzzle in a small nod: that it was okay that he took it for himself. “Fill your belly. You will need it,” Winter was not kind, especially not to those who wandered alone. “You do not belong to a pack?” It was a rhetorical question as the viking queen mused it out loud. She could not smell any pack upon him, so she assumed her observation to be true. “I lead as Viking Queen of a pack called Sleeping Dragon with my partner Thuringwethil,” They were not official yet but Gyda sensed they were close, besides, she saw no reason to speak of “soons” when upon her return she intended to make it a reality. “We could use another able body like you in our ranks. If you would join us you are welcome.” Gyda would wager that offers for a home and stability directly from a leader did not happen often ...at least not when recruitment no longer was necessary to bolster their numbers. The shield-maiden fell to silence as she awaited his response to her offer, wondering if he would take it or if he would turn away from it.

Gyda saw no current point in making him bow before her ...until moments ago he had not even been aware of her status, and there was nothing in his posture that spoke of a challenge. He ate his meal in the silence the shield-maiden had quickly came to expect from him, coming to the rough conclusion that either he could not speak or simply wished not too. It didn't matter much, in the long run. Wolves were adept at reading body language and she had been taught from a very young age to trust in body language more than she trusted in words. Words could be deceptive ...she had become well versed in the art when learning of her tyrannical uncle's weaknesses. Of course, one could also deceive with body language but more often than not the body posture spoke the truth.

“Good,” Gyda mused when he barked his acceptance of her offer. “I had thought to travel through the night,” She began and then let out a soft sigh. As much as she desired nothing more than to return home to Sleeping Dragon she knew that with Hush's recruitment into their ranks she would have to be courteous of him. She would not be making the trip home alone, after all. “but we should rest tonight. We have a long trip ahead of us tomorrow.” With that she settled down near the log, taking to a position that resembled the great sphinx of Giza, Caribbean gaze studying him before she laid her head upon her paws and closed her eyes intent on getting her rest and hoping that he did the same so that they could set out come morning.