Wolf RPG

Gavriel felt confident enough to leave @Vercingetorix alone for a little while, a few hours at most. He had been trained like that all had and the older brother had faith he could hold his own, at least enough to get away. He didn’t go too far but Gavriel knew he needed a few hours to himself. The trek between Trigeda and these new lands had been long and with more reprimand on the kid’s attitude than he thought he’d run into. Perhaps he would have brought Llyr along, instead, if the boy had insisted.

He doesn’t quite know what he’d been looking for as he moved through the valley. There are no particular smells that stand out among the rest and the one he’d been following through the woods—as faint as it were—eventually eluded him. Blind luck was all he had to go on and for now, he doesn’t have any intention of giving up. If he and his little brother could separate for a while, perhaps they could cover more distance, but giving each other their space is the only thing he currently cared about.

The south was as uninteresting as the mountain to the north, but in doubling back through the chasm of cliffs and foreign fields, she found her way back to it. The girl picked her way north carefully, as she was aware now of a proliferation of rogues — it was not mindless travel now, but cautiously optimistic wandering. Instead of heading straight north to the mountain, the girl's path arced towards the east once more. 

After some hours of this, she came to a rest in a narrow valley. The wind had started blustering through the grassland, sending eddies of heavy cloud cover across the sky as well as pulsing against her copper pelt; it was chilly, but not so harsh as to undo her. Seregryn ducked in to the wind and continued to slink along, eyes half-closed against the force of it, but only got a few feet before halting and flattening herself among the grass. It was far too strong, that wind — she did not like the feeling of her slight body being pulled and pushed so easily.

When the air was calmer, she decided to brave any further wrath of the strange spring weather. In standing, she felt an awkward lightness to her body; and when she resumed her stalking, Seregryn's confidence grew strong again. She only went a few more steps before noticing a subtle shift in the wind - nothing like the heady pulse of stormy air, but rather, a scent. It was thin but familiar, prompting her to stand at attention and peer across her surroundings without further thought; she even went so far as to bark sharply, letting her voice carry beyond the whistle of the rising winds. If it was a friend, then they would be well met — but if it were an enemy, she would protect herself.

Most of the time, families remained in tact. They grew up together, they bonded with their parents and siblings, and the entire pack helped in their growth. However, once in a while, a child was born that was blessed—or cursed, depending on how it's looked upon—for something greater. A singular child in a litter spends time with their family until they are weaned but even then there's a disconnect. They aren't treated the same and they try not to become attached to one another.

A good majority of the families didn't experience having one of their children taken away. Gavriel had two: one sister, one niece.

And so when the scent of another crossed his nose, he slowly turned his head until he noticed the unmistakable pattern of his niece.

Gavriel's brows burrow between whatever color his brown eyes are as he searched the girl's expression. It takes a few seconds before he shifted his posture, slightly more submissive than he would with any stranger, but a smile formed on his features. Seregrýn had been the only Fos Goufa in Seageda at the time and when they merged with Trigeda, had equally been pampered their for her future. Wherever Thuringwehil went, perhaps to restructure their home, left the girl in some weird limbo of unknown. Even Gavriel's concern for their future hadn't gone unspoken. The expedition with his younger brother would be the only thing to try and reconcile his leaders decisions. What would she think if a future heda had been away without a guard.

"Seregrýn," he called once he had taken a few steps forward to close the distance. "Where is your guard?"

The sight of a long unseen member of her family - an uncle, who reminded her immediately of Trigeda, and even further, of Seageda - brought a level of elation to Seregryn that coursed through her entire body. She resisted the urge to leap for him, to get close and find comfort in the familiarity of him, but only just. When he spoke her name she cast him a wolfish grin; then, at mention of her guard, she seemed to wither.

Perhaps not so much wither, but falter. Yes - because she needed no guard. She was destined for great things, and her skills had to be honed. There was no way to sculpt herself, craft her skills, if she had an entourage of lessers on her tail. To compensate for the slight withdrawal, Seregryn chuffed softly; she looked away from her uncle with disinterest, no longer desiring his affection or care. If he doubted her ability, she had no use for him.

A thought did occur, though. If he was here — Thuringwethil? her tone implored him, but she did not elucidate once the name was spoken. Seregryn was not mistaking her uncle for the heda; she was merely asking about her, and was intent on gathering information. To meet the heda would be a great honor — there was much to learn from the woman.

His question of her guard was dismissed and he felt his own fur bristle. A wolf for great things in the future, should she outlive Thuringwethil, was a given, but the very reason she needed someone to keep an eye out. With the demise of Seageda, the attempt to get too close to their heda for whatever reason, might find Seregrýn to be the next biggest threat. Without proof of the current commander’s death, and not enough time to come to pass, the young female was the next in line to replace her and rebuild. Her death would only entice those that had done their damage to Thuringwethil.

“Have you found her?” he asked in his own tonguewith a sudden hopefulness coming from him. He closed the distance between himself and the younger wolf, his nose lifting to bump the underside of her chin.

When he speaks in their native tongue, her ears are thankful for it. Yet there isn't an answer for him - she has not found the woman, and evidently neither had he. A subtle movement of her head is all that indicates a negative response — and then he is intercepting her, brushing the underside of her chin in the manner of a subordinate to something far greater. Seregryn's jaw sets tightly, allowing the connection, but then she pulls aside from him and begins to march away. There is no use speaking with him if he has not found the heda, for it only means Seregryn must complete the job herself.

The young wolf had been ripped away from her family the moment she could, their contact limited, but their focus on her teaching and training had become their first priority. Their closeness—or lack thereof—doesn’t surprise him. The girl was as much related to him as Thuringwethil and he knew one day he might lead beneath her and for that he doesn’t blame the fact she turns away from him. However, it’s obvious she doesn’t understand the severity of the situation.

“No,” he barked, bouncing forward a few steps to get in front of her. “If they knew you were here, you could be in danger,” he told her, finding comfort in his own tongue but he hadn’t been exposed to the common language as much as she might have been. “Heda would want you protected. We can find her together.”

Thinking she is free to roam, she is surprised when he cuts her off. His bounding steps are loud and garish behind her, and she is swiftly overtaken by Gavriel's imposing figure. Even as a potential heda she is small, far more compact than himself. Seregryn stiffens on his approach, standing tall as he begins to speak. Of course, he is right — but the girl sees him as a lesser being, having been trained well in the ways of their people. Seregryn is briefly offended that he would dare raise his voice against her, but - he is right.

Still, Seregryn does not give in so easily. Her understanding of the world has been skewed by many tutors; she sees no threat in the world around her. If anyone is in danger, it is you. She is an impetuous child, her tongue eager to lash at him. Yet she resists, knowing that there is safety in numbers and as an outsider in this place, she is indeed at the mercy of outsiders. Raise your voice to me again and I will feed you your own tongue. The fur along her spine bristles, and her tail waves a little higher than the height of her hips, but then she looks away — petulant, yes, but also accepting of his terms.

Gavriel’s time around his niece had always been limited, as it had been with his older sister, and when she snapped at him, it doesn’t exactly surprise him. The large wolf knew he couldn’t get a free pass with their relation, the job as commander wouldn’t allow the separation from one subordinate to the next, and those in line as the next couldn’t either. When she barked back at his demand, he shrunk back rather quickly, putting a step between them. His ears fall against his head but he kept his gaze hardened. 

If Heda knew he would let the young girl slip away, his punishment might be even worse than the caramel-colored girl. “I will be your guard until we find her and then she can decide. If something happened to you,” he began but trails off. His voice softened in her demand and she gave her a little space but he couldn’t let her slip away.

He was right to want her protected and safe, seeing as she was the future - inevitably, Thuringwethil would die, and she would rise up to take her place. Or another of the Fos Goufa, if there were any. Seregryn would do her best to keep them away from the position though, as was her right. Still, the girl was not keen on being followed around by adults - or anyone - when she had been raised with such views. In her mind, she was free to do as she pleased, whenever she willed herself to do it. The fact that Gavriel buckled to her sharp tongue was evidence enough of this. If she truly wished, she could remove herself from any situation she disliked. But for now, Seregryn knew that she needed to find Thuringwethil. Even if it meant being watched by a lesser being such as Gavriel.

Nothing will happen to me, she coldly cut through his own words, finishing the sentence he had left hanging. Seregryn was a warrior of Seageda, even if Seageda was no more. She was a future Commander, and believed firmly in her abilities. It would be wise to do as the man heeded, though. So after a moment of gritted teeth and painfully contained frustration, she turned an impassive expression upon Gavriel and added, Let us go.

If he knew where the heda was, they would seek her together.