When they made sure the wolves left the bolder, she hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly where they’d gone. At first, it didn’t bother her. At first, she wasn’t going to let herself care. They were gone from Sleeping Dragon’s front yard and at the time, it had been all she could ask for. However, the longer she went, she couldn’t help the level of curiosity that had risen within her to find out exactly where they’d gone. The security patrols around the border hadn’t given them on any insight and territories that surrounded Drageda were not inhabit by anyone other than her own wolves that ventured out.
How she’d gotten all the way to the March had been on a whim, thinking she caught a scent of one of the wolves she met at the face of the bolder. Thuringwethil isn’t able to hold it long as she trotted through wet soil and puddles, stepping over large branches and climbing the width of tree trunks that had fallen in the wake of something terrible. Perhaps the storm Wildfire had mentioned had been the cause but she doesn’t have a reason to think about it when she has no one to answer the potential question.
The smell isn’t terribly pleasant, either; it’s musty and wet. Humidity weighs her fur down and even though she shakes it out every so often, it still feels heavy against her skin. Irritation builds up and she stiffens, pushing herself over another trunk onto ground that seems a little sturdier than wet soil that sucks at her paw pads, and perhaps she’s finally getting to the other side.
Maybe it was the want to go beyond the cage-like borders of the sanctuary, or perhaps just sheer foolishness. Whatever the case might have been, the result remained the same; Sen had ventured out into the open, only to find herself entering the very same marsh she had swore to high hell she would never even smell, let alone see, again. What really pissed her off was the fact that she was not senseless when it came to exploration. Sen had been traveling during more of her life than she'd ever spent settled somewhere, and by doing so had mastered it to a T. There were hardly any terrains she'd never set foot across, and little things of interest that she'd never seen. It was because of that little tidbit of information that she was damn near ready to tear into someone when the first little squelch of the muck underfoot met her ears.
As far as she was consciously aware, there was naught a single reason for her to have trekked to the outer reaches of the marsh, and there definitely wasn't a real reason for her having then proceeded to move further into the revolting patch of land. Subconsciously, perhaps her mind wished for her to see something, but Sen was in no way a believer of spiritual impulses. She believed solely in logic, in that which could be explained by natural occurrences. The sudden urge to enter a domain her stomach practically churned at the mere thought of? Well, that just didn't fall into such categories. Even still, in spite of all that, the serpent had not ceased in her wanderings, pressing forward instead with a scowl etched deeply into her features.
It was by a stroke of pure luck that the woman had been able to pluck a wolfish scent from the oncoming breeze, though it was mixed heavily with the gases and musk of the murky land. No matter, she'd followed it, picking her way through the sickening paths and hoping for the chance to step up onto drier land—a hope that was, of course, never answered. When she had finally wandered enough to catch sight of the scent's owner, her immediate thought was something along the lines of a complaint over her valuable time having been wasted. It was not a mere loner that had wandered in, but a face she had assumed would never be seen by her eyes again. Of course, Sen gave no greeting, nor did she even announce her presence. She simply stood there, still as a statue, watching the other female and wondering what had dragged her so far from her home.
The scent comes to her before she sees her and it is unmistakable. She stiffens and resists the urge to lift her head above her shoulders and arch her tail; she’s not near Drageda and she doesn’t have intentions of trying to chase out anyone. The scent is far enough she doesn’t have to worry about a threat to her home, however, it doesn’t quite settle well within her. They weren’t likely to be on the friendliest of terms, either, having forced them out of their choice of a home.
It was the best thing for the both of them, in the long run.
Thuringwethil turns her head, slowly, to find the dark woman in the distance. Dark slate eyes watch from where she stands and at first she doesn’t make a move to advance, hesitant she might be walking into something that could put her in trouble. The other may be smaller than her but she isn’t dumb enough to underestimate a warrior, whether or not that is the case here. She can’t afford to make assumptions.
“I am here in peace,” she explains, taking a careful step forward to find ground a little sturdier. The wet soil suctions between her toes and if the other advances, there isn’t an easy escape when the terrain will hold her down.
There came words of peace, but the woman was not so quick to trust the authenticity of them. It was the type of ploy she would act out, claim peace and then weasel her way into the enemies bearings, which made it difficult to find the necessary grounds that permitted trust to form. Though she reminded herself that not all were the same as she was, it did not simplify the situation in even the slightest. The other leader was still the very same that had insisted upon their relocation and, though Sen really had no trouble doing so in the past, the memory had stuck. "I'm trying to wrap my head around why you're here at all, even if it is in peace," she'd called back, making no move to further lessen the space left between them.
Sen did not fear the other, confident in her own ability of evasion. If it came down to a chase, she felt she'd be better equipped to flee and head for safer grounds, though the tension in the air wasn't even the sort to truly inspire such plans of flight. "Why are you here?" That was all that really mattered, not whether or not the Gorgon would be capable of an escape if need be. It was doubtful the girl had trekked so far out of her way just to check up on them, or to bring them a congratulatory basket of treats. Which left her intentions as being unknown, something Sen was not a fan of.
Thuringwethil doesn’t expect the other woman to believe her words but she doesn’t leave her behind, doesn’t advance quickly upon her. Even though she took a step forward a few seconds ago, she doesn’t continue. “You cannot blame me for taking care of my wolves,” she explains. It would always be her wolves; they came first. Should an alliance ever form between Drageda and another, the safety of her own would always come first.
“I did not come, at first, searching for you. I caught a scent and followed it,” she explains. She lost it somewhere in the marsh and even her current scent is a little difficult to find in some waves. Why she followed it, she doesn’t have a solid answer. She’d wanted to know the end result of where they settled only to know how far away they were. If they were further in the direction she’d been going, they were more than safe, but room for a potential relationship is there.
She doesn’t bring up her thoughts for the future, whatever benefit they could use for another. For now, she just needs Sen to understand she holds no hostility for the last time they’d seen one another.
It was true, her words. Sen could not blame her for wishing to take care of her own, lest she wish to earn the title of a hypocrite. Though, really, she'd yet to form a bond strong enough with her present home that would incite the need to look out for the lot of those within it... some, yes, but all, no. Nevertheless, it didn't really matter, since the other hadn't a clue as to what the serpent's relations were with her pack. "You're not wrong there," she'd returned, monotone and sporting a somewhat disinterested expression. For her to admit such was saying a lot, for it meant she'd been able to push past her own arrogance and admit that another's decision had been better than her own. Every detail of her thoughts in regard to the previous situation might never be shared, of course, but the notion was there.
"And who's scent was it? Do you even know?" A single, undefined eyebrow was quirked, though it would most likely have gone unnoticed even if it was identifiable. "Was it the scent of one of mine?" Ours, her mind had silently reminded her, not allowing Depp to drift far from her thoughts. It was troubling usually, but not so much so this time around. It felt almost necessary to make sure she wasn't thought of as the only leading figure, perhaps to better their image in the eyes of outsiders. In this case, though, it was to ensure that Thuringwethil did not forget that Sen was not alone, just in case any foul moves were attempted.
Thuringwethil watches her expression change, just a little, when she makes her admission. A slight twitch of her own lips form but she hides the smile that threatens an appearance. The other woman acts first based on her emotions before logic sets in and it can be a dangerous trait to have but so far, every logical thing the younger leader has presented had been taken well. Perhaps her actions are for show, a way to bully someone into what she wants, but Thuringwethil doesn’t push further into it to find out.
“Yours,” she finally answers. It had caught her attention before the marsh. Faint, but hers nonetheless. It vaguely reminded her of the bolder and the dull scents left behind and as she stands near her, it proves to be stronger and what she had been looking for.
Sen had been expecting a simple answer like, "Yeah, it was one of your followers.", or something else along those lines. The actual reply had taken her a bit off guard, and such had shown for a split second when shock flickered through her gaze. The emotion was quickly swiped away, however, leaving behind the clean, stoic slate that was her usual demeanor. "And why's that?" Of course, Sen could think only of reasons that were, in some way, related to their encounter prior to the relocation. Since she'd been the one to question the younger's words, then maybe it was the Gorgon in particular that she had wanted to ensure was gone for good. It was a fitting thought, as far as the darkling was concerned.
"Whatever your reasoning, you've accomplished whatever you set out to do by finding me," she'd continued, unconsciously rolling her shoulder in the process—a habit she'd picked up recently. "So you can probably leave now. Head back to your wolves." Someday, maybe she'd actually develop basic social skills. But, of course, today was not the day for that.
Depp had been on the look out—once again—for booze. Knowing Spring had come, this was now the time for expired fruits and gourds to present themselves, most decaying to nothing, while some meet the lips of this alcoholic. Eating them simply for the release of stress and capacity of his own thoughts. Others might find this strange, but being raised around such tendencies he'd grown to enjoy the ugly taste. It had officially been an hour, and he was becoming aggravated, luckily before he could fuel this anger the smell of Sen and another wolf filled his nose. Stopping in his tracks and taking a moment to identify the other he'd come to the conclusion that it was...the alpha of Sleeping Dragon? He furrowed his nonexistent brow, what was she doing so close to their borders? They had traveled far enough away, have they not? He swore under his breath, not wanting anymore unneeded drama to come his way.
Changing his stop to a trot the alpha moved his way towards the two, only to come across the annoying surface of Felltree Marsh. The Sparrow looked at the brown gunk covering his paws, shaking his head with irritation, but continuing on towards the fellow alpha's. Not stopping until reaching Sen's side, his tail flicked back and forth and a judging look covered his face. His almond eyes moved left and right in a confused motion, before presenting a question."Why are you here?"
Thuringwethil doesn’t quite realize how close she is to their territory, the place they’ve claimed, and so when the other dark female asks why she follows, she can’t help but burrow her brows. Her jaws tighten and before she answers, she’s given the suggestion of going back home. The marsh is far enough, she supposes, but the exact distance is still yearning within her. The safety of her wolves matter and letting them know where the ones that threatened them so close are far enough away is information she wishes to return with. If they won’t give it to her, then she can settle the barrier in this land.
Before she’s given the chance to respond, or leave, the other wolf shows up and stands next to his pack mate. Her own eyes narrow and she resists the urge to lift her head in his presence. Thuringwethil keeps her actions in check; two wolves against one isn’t a situation she likes to be in, but when he demands an answer—on neutral ground at that—she feels the bristling of her fur.
“Unless you’ve claimed this marsh,” she begins and looks around, doubting it to be the case, “then there is no harm in my presence. I will not advance past it.” Her compromise is given and she glances between the two. “I was only following it to determine the space between my home and yours. So I can tell my wolves to avoid your area,” she tells them, hoping it will be enough to satisfy the both of them with boundaries set.
Before the other woman had the chance to respond to any of her words, another presence had appeared. It'd drawn up next to Sen, causing her head to turn so that she could investigate who it was. Upon realizing that it was only Depp, her gaze had been returned to the yearling once more. A single, obsidian ear turned in her companion's direction, catching his words just as they were said. She'd needed to fend off a smirk from encroaching upon her features, for he'd asked the very same thing as she had just moments prior. Of course, she did not tell that to him, deciding to leave him go and see where the conversation went. It was also answers that she sought, however, and so her main point of focus was the younger female.
"The marsh doesn't belong to us, but our claim is close enough for your showing up here to raise red flags," the eldest of the three stated, not bothered by the notion of revealing such information. "What happens if one of yours goes against your word and shows up here anyways?" Personally, Sen would do nothing. Physical punishments, especially when dished out to those unwilling to receive them, posed a risk to her personal being. Besides, it was against Seadog's ways to act so rash... or did that apply only to it's members? She wasn't sure, nor would she bother with asking. For a moment, though, her gaze had drifted towards Depp, wondering of his thoughts on the other leader's words.
Depp looked down at his fellow Alpha, he was aware of her antics and it was obvious she would prefer Thuringwethil as far away from Seadog as possible, seeing as she "chased" them out of their original territory. He was the type to hold grudges, but not for something so simple. It made complete sense as to why they had to move, or it would have resulted in one or more deaths in either pack. The pirate didn't mind Sleeping Dragon's alpha nor their wolves in Felltree, as long as they didn't trek farther than they should. Seeing the two alpha's preferred coexistence over war, he didn't want to start up anything.
"As long as your wolves don't harm us, I don't mind you venturing this far." The male expressed, perhaps the two packs could form an alliance of some sort? Backup in case any other packs decide to harm the other, of course, he wouldn't enjoy having to fight a war for another pack, as war was dumb in his opinion, but if Seadog had a potential threat it would be beneficial to have them on their side. "Just keep your wolves in line."
She’s given mixed signals from both of the wolves, just as she had the time they met, and her skin scrawls with irritation. One ear flicks on her head and she regrets following the scent as far as she had. If she’d just taken the hint that they were close, she could have determined the line where her wolves should not cross. Her tongue slips out of her muzzle as she gives them a moment to figure out how they’d like to handle it, but either way she knows the answer.
However, the male speaks up—she realizes their names are still unknown—and her fur bristles around her neck to broaden her shoulders. It takes a considerable amount of effort not to straighten up her posture.
“Do not worry about how I handle my wolves,” she tells him, eyes narrowing, before glancing back to the female. “They will not come this far,” she assures with a hardened voice. Until whatever tension between them clears up, she’ll advise them from coming this far, but wolves disobeying her command are not her wolves. Thuringwethil jerks her nose upward before she takes a step back from the wet soil beneath her feet, turning to take her leave.