She slowed her stride only when near to the other, but she did not stop then. Her intent was clear as she drove toward the other with erect ears and a half-mast plume. Sangilak had always been her own master, who responded only to the Issumatar and her equal, who was the alpha male. The present man was her father; and he was also the longest male to keep his title for the second consecutive season. No doubt Siku had found forever in him, but there was no love in it, only power. Sangilak veritably reeked of that power, dripped it, but wore it loosely, let it slip from her shoulders only to adjust it squarely there when necessary.
Sangilak moved to draw in beside the other, but thought better of it at the last and faced the woman head on. She could not know if Tartok had sought to displace Thuringwethil and hers, too, but she doubted that unless resources were questionable. If that were the case, it was a wonder Thuringwethil lived at all... but then, Sangilak had never questioned her strength. Never had a chance to see it for herself, either. Sangilak, ever inarticulate, did not know how to begin. So she waited, feeling sure that the question was evident as her ears perked and she watched the other with marked interest. No (recent) injuries to be seen that told of battles lost, or battles won for that matter... she knew too little of the other to know her purpose in this place.
The wolf is given reassurance. She knows the woman standing off in the distance; the other, shes unsure, but she doesn’t question it when that speck in the sky doesn’t advance. A lookout, perhaps, and Thuringwethil feels a shiver down her spine. She’d yet to appoint anyone to that task yet, yet to find anyone to trust, but it will happen when it does. Thuringwethil can’t force someone into a trusted position so easily if she didn’t trust them. The exact reason Magpie had yet to become her advisor and the pack’s beta, even if she desired to have her cabinet complete.
Sangilak’s approach slows and her own brow quirks, watching. Thuringwethil doesn’t make an advance until their distance is minute compared to where they stood. The large woman steps forward and dips her head with a slight smile. She’d only met her once, maybe twice, in her reign of Seageda. Neighbors being a loose title between them but close enough Thuringwethil felt the need to offer an arm of peace between them that never came to fruition. Before Seageda became no more, before Sangilak took down her own enemy, they idea had been little enough of a concern she had been okay putting on a back burner.
“Takunahaarnakuni,” she offers to break the silence, using what little of the language Thuringwethil had learned in her time as commander.
As the other spoke in her tongue, Sangilak blinked. It was not spoken as one of their tongue would have spoken it, and she wondered if the wolf before her meant any sentiment behind it. Whether Thuringwethil meant it or not, Sangilak was at once wary and yet glad for the familiarity the other brought on by the single word. All the same, she would not repay her in kind. What little Sangilak knew of the tongue of the others wolves was kept to herself.
She had deduced many things in the others greeting. One: violence was undesired, which meant her brethren had not come against her fellow foreigner. Two: she did not speak in her own tongue, but spoke in the tongue of Tartok. The word was not a hidden one, a token of their culture; it was well meaning, and when said it was oft used in a companionable manner. Were it a Tartok wolf speaking to her, Sangilak might have truly been at ease; as it was, she was not, and so she remained stalwart and stoic. Sangilak only grunted in turn, and then spoke clearly for Thuringwethil to understand. A nod in greeting, to return the others, and then onto business: What has brought you here?
Brusque as ever, but not disappointed, or cold. Sangilak had been intrigued, so to speak, by the other warriors well beyond them. Far enough to never be a cause for worry when it came to resources, but close enough for Tartok's ever watchful-eye, hungry for dispersal wolves they could bring into their fold. Sangilak had met this one before her eyes, and her interest had never been so evident up until this point. Again, she had found herself in the same place as the other. Their lands had mutually not been so far from here, so it was nothing more than coincidence she was here, Sangilak only wondered why.
Thuringwethil doesn’t know the woman well enough to know how she’d react but comfort in her own words isn’t it. The dark leader doesn’t dwell on it long enough; she’s acknowledged and spoken to and she can’t ask for more than that, she supposes, and so she simply nods her head at their new predicament. “Starting over. Seageda is gone,” she tells her. Drageda is their new beginning, away from the threat as long as she can keep them at bay, and she can reconstruct their ways to suit their new genesis.
“And you? You are far from home,” she adds with a quirk of her brow. Sangilak’s home hadn’t exactly been close to her own but enough that made her presence in these new wilds a strange one, sticking out like a sore thumb. However, the comfort of their old ways in the way the other dark woman holds herself makes her miss the threat of battle looming over their heads. Bloodshed and war had never been Thuringwethil’s goal but the challenge of peace between the surrounding nations. She had much more to accomplish ruling over Sleeping Dragon than she had before but a challenge she was more than welcoming.
She was surprised by the words that came from the other, but only due to the fact that she was so openly told why it was the other was here. Tartok had taken over many nations, and it was strange to look in the face of what a wolf who had been enabled to live and know what they would do. Gone, the other had said. Such finality it was spoken with, that Sangilak did not wonder if the other would return to see it return to that place. No revenge. No speaking of those that had forced her from that place to here, in any manner. Sangilak understood it well enough.
The question was asked in turn. While it ought to have been anticipated, Sangilak was slow with social graces. It was not for the other to know of Tartok and the secretive nation 'twas, and Tartok thrived; that was why she had come. But the wolves of Tartok were reclusive, quiet. Warmongering beings when it was demanded in expansion, and savage protectors of what they deemed their own, soldiers devoted to the cause of their survival and growth. Apex predators were produced and molded by Tartok, who understood better than any the laws of the wild.
It was time,
she responded without any measure of eloquence. Her mother had produced more children; Tonravik had, too. Of course Sangilak would be a threat to them; she was no sweet big sister, but rough and cruel and intolerant, perhaps moreso than her mother. At her age, there was no maternal bone within her. Her impatience with cubs had been something expected by Siku, who had kept some of her (presently) unambitious children in the ranks. So it was time for her to go her own way, and it had led her to this place.
There is little Thuringwethil can remember about the woman standing in front of her but the simple reply to her question doesn’t surprise her. She has a way that answers her questions enough, only to leave her with less information than she started with. A brow raises but she doesn’t push for more; Thuringwethil wouldn’t give more than she already had about Seageda, just as much as she expected Sangilak to do the same.
“My empire is not gone,” she assures, even though it hasn’t been pressed for, “if you need refuge, for a time.”
With little room in her ranks as they stand, space for Sangilak and her companion in the distance is limited for a temporary stay. Opening Drageda up to a bigger populous isn’t possible but the comfort of a small hierarchy has been refreshing, but setting ground for something with more potential with Sangilak remains in the back of her mind.
The other elaborated, and Sangilak listened with interest. The assurance and the weight of it is not lost on her, and Sangilak is appreciative of the words, though for her they lacked sentimental value. The wolf before her eyes was one she had seen from time to time, and though Sangilak knew little of her culture what had been deduced was that these wolves were warriors themselves. That had been enough to cause her thoughts on them to never err on the negative side; they kept their distance, as she and hers kept their own in turn. It had not been Seageda who had fought their arriving and sought to displace them. Those wolves were no more.
And then came the offer. Sangilak did not miss a beat before responding, speaking in her own tongue, the response succinct and complemented with a nod,
Î
, she responded, and then turned back and chuffed to
@Tatkret. A place to rest and a place to eat meant much to Sangilak; she looks again to Thuringwethil and speaks deeply again in her accented voice,
We will provide.
They would not inhabit space and loiter within it; they would contribute, and fight alongside the raven wolf as need be.
It takes a second to register the word the other speaks to her, twitching an ear once she turns back to call for her companion. Slate-grey eyes lift, looking over the dark shoulder at the wolf that has been standing by. She’d forgotten about him in the last few minutes but once things have settled, agreeing upon their stay, Thuringwethil nods her head: “Of course, it is over a half day’s travel from here,” she explains, glancing back the way she’d originally been going. “We can hunt during our return, if you need.”
The suggestion was well-met, and she nodded. To exercise her legs in the hunt would be good to do, now that she could exert the energy. Sangilak was not made for the chase, but for the kill. Her hefty build did her swiftness little favors, but she had been taught and increased her endurance. For speed, there was nothing to do for that. She knew Tatkret would be approaching them now that she had called to him; he would ask no questions, he would simply join her. Sangilak shifted her weight, and waited for Thuringwethil to guide them to where they would find their refuge.
When the male comes upon them, she jerks her head to move in the direction of Sleeping Dragon. In the meantime, she informs their conditions as guests: replace what you take and then some, their service, how to refer to her. Functioning members among their community for their refuge, until they find their purpose or Thuringwethil can find a use for them. With the information of Gyda and the others, she offers warning against the river and the pack below them.
I don't remember if you wanted
@Tatkret to make a cameo for this?