Some time ago, she had exceeded the furthest boundries of the home she once knew. There were grasses and gentle warm breezes here, it was so very different the the constant cold of ice and snow. Hunting was easy enough, atleast in the small game she could take by herself. She should be grateful that she had stumbled into such a place.
She was not.
She could not stop thinking of those who she had loved, birthed, and bred. Their voices still echoed in her ears, lost to time and lost to life. She missed her pack who had sought her out in times of sorrow. She always had the right and gentle expression that they needed to hear.
Who was there now, to bring comfort to herself?
She was a heavy female, but not unfit. She gave the impression of a bitch who carried cubs, though in truth - she had delivered her cubs three weeks prior. Curious, it seemed - that none now traveled with her. Her body ached from travel and her teets were engorged with milk as in her sorrow she had not begun to dry up.
She hesitated at the boundary of this new place. The scent of another clearly laying claim. She debated on leaving, not yet ready to seek the comfort of another's pack so soon after loosing her own. She shifted her weight, her tail resting calmly behind her. Her posture neither dominate nor excessively submissive.
Something in the moment caused her to linger. She was a wolf and by nature she instinctively sought the support and connections of her kindred. She wanted to reach other, to forge friendships and perhaps be of the same comfort and aid to others as she had once been to her own.
So, after a moment of indecision - she tilted her head back. Her pink tongue snaked over the deadly ivories that lay hidden behind her now parted maw...and she sang.
A call requesting permission to enter these lands, and if found suitable - to join them.
Björn, holding Pump’s proposition to counter his own in high regards - though the Viking could not truly pinpoint the moment in time that the hybrid woman had managed to catch him off guard by sowing the seeds of respect within him, it was there, regardless - worked on patrolling the borders, eyes and ears open for any potential stragglers whom had gotten lost from them during the landslide. Björn was not the type of man to come out and say she had his respect, more so it would be communicated through his actions. He had not came to this pack with the intention of holding respect for another, a superior no less, but Odinn had drawn him here for a reason and for the time being the Viking was contented to stay here and help the new leader gain her footing and help the pack raise to the glory it should be. The desire to prove that he was worthy of her trust despite that he was among other things dangerous, that he was worthy of being her enforcer, the second in command, yet it was not just her he needed to impress but the others as well.
The borders had been quiet, the silence of the Ridge calming compared to the clamor that vibrated the very core of the earth when the landslide had struck them, and the sun would peek out from beneath drifting clouds every now and then, warming the platinum silver tendrils of silken fur that lined his back, though sometimes the warmth would give cause for his wound under the wrappings Thistle took care of to itch and the Viking would pause and bite at the skin around it as it began to scab and heal. His fur was still matted with old blood from when he had torn it when it had been infected, for bathing would ruin the wrappings. Björn would be the first to admit he was not the best patient, not one for fussing, or healing voodoo but she worked hard and took good care of him, enduring him with a good nature. In a small manner, Björn admired Thistle’s patience.
A howl rose not too far from where he had paused to re-enforce the borders, and head rose, scarred and unscarred ears thrusting forth and swiveling atop his head to gauge the position before he pushed himself towards the stranger at the borders, subtly trying to hide the limp that marred his gait from his healing gash. Interestingly enough as Björn drew closer the female’s scent was overpowered by the sweet scent of a mother’s milk, and black leathery nostrils flared as he assumed that she was expecting. So many times he had expected to drink that scent in from one of his many wives or gifts but none of them had taken his seed, either from their young age or his own, the exception being Unnr whom had been to sickly to conceive. For a dark moment, Ragnar (the true name of the scarred Viking) considered many things, each more unsavory as the other as a wave of jealousy and possession stole over him, and the brutish and savage nature of his people came out with a feral vengeance as his darkened caribbean blue eyes took her in, lingering on the swell of her belly and the enlargement of her teats, assuming that she was pregnant before he locked such things away.
Thinking those sorts of things would ruin what he was attempting to build here, even a feral and savage beast needed a home.
“I am Björn,” The savage spoke his moniker, his tail raised over his back in a dominate position over his back to show that he was the wolf of rank here, for the moment. The ranks were in a unclear disorder as of the moment as Horizon Ridge struggled to find their footing again on the unstable ground the disaster had left them with, but Björn had a clear goal in his mind besides the Beta rank, figuring that gaining the co-rank of Warden couldn’t hurt, besides it being suited well to him. “What do you seek at our borders?” Of course, Björn had a fairly clear idea, however, he wanted to hear her say it for herself, just in case.
The stocky female had only just lowered her head and ended that sacred melody as the other's scent reached her nostrils. She slid her tongue over her snout tasting the scent as much as smelling it. It wasn't long until she saw to whom the scent belonged.
She was not put off by the appearance of the clearly battle laden wolf; Nor his dominate approach. Instead, she remained calm. Her tail flagging slowly and kept low though not tucked. She was no coward or weakling, but she was however - respectful.
She would not have taken kindly to one entering her lands in a rude or brash fashion and there for had no intentions of entering the lands of another in the same way.
Her dial was hoisted, not proud but alert - while her dished ears turned toward him. The only noticeable injury to the female was a small bald patch on her shoulder that seemed as though it had been shaved as there was no visible injury.
"Hello, Björn. Your name is similar to one used by my kindred, in the noble north. I am called Nuka."
She let the introduction hang for a moment in the air before responding to the rest of his questions.
"I seek a place to heal, and to call home. My family has been taken from me, and with it my direction in life. I had hoped to be of use here and in time - perhaps find that direction once more."
She was well spoken, with a gentle tone. It was easy to see how the soft spoken and broad female could be mistaken as a weakling in combat. In-fact, her size made her formidable, and her quiet and caring nature made her fiercely loyal and a tank in combat.
Björn noticed that her stare did not linger upon the scars that marred the left ear and half of his face, diminishing what had once been strikingly handsome. He still was - handsome that was - so long as he kept the destroyed left half of his face hidden. Most were repulsed by the pink patches of smooth skin that fur had never grew to conceal but Björn was proud of them - the symbolism of Odinn’s Cove, his accomplishments on display for everyone to see even if they appeared to be nothing more than scars. “I was born among the ice and harshness of the far North,” He told her simply, not because she had asked, but because she had already made the connection likely from his name and accent alone. Idly, he wondered if she was Viking, maybe a shieldmaiden or a slave, though he had a tough time deciding if she was either. Perhaps she was not of his people, but just on the knowledge of them. Their reputation was infamous, the term ‘Vikings’ feared for their habits of raiding - food, lands, treasures, and most assuredly, woman. He tucked her name into his mind, attempting to place it with her scent which, realistically, would not be that hard for him to remember so long as she was still producing the sweet milk for her young that Björn assumed still lived within her rounded sides.
“We have a healer,” Björn informed simply, mind’s eyes flickering to Thistle Cloud briefly. “but we have known a great disaster very recently. A landslide has made part of our territory inaccessible and there are many injured,” Such as Björn himself, though as far as he was concerned he was one of the luckier ones. “There may still be some trapped on the other side, injured. We do not know,” Some went mysteriously missing, and when Thistle ‘discharged’ him from her care he planned to go on a search on the other side of the landslide. “I am sure Pump, the Alpha, will find a second healer to be useful.” Björn mused, despite that in truth he really couldn’t speak for her.
“She should be here soon,” Björn informed the woman - Nuka - contented with keeping her company until Pump appeared. Björn had not turned a deaf ear to the fact that Nuka had spoken of losing her family, and while Björn did not feel pity - it would seem that pity was not in a Viking’s blood - he eyed her up again, eyeing lingering once more upon her swollen teats and rounded sides figuring that she couldn’t be that far off from giving birth (unknowing in his assumption that she already had). “You are expecting,” Björn inquired aloud, stating his assumption to the woman in an unabashed fashion that was typical for the Savage.
The large female watched as the other spoke of the cold north. It was a place she remembered fondly. Ears were twisted toward him and focused as he explained the tragedy that had befallen the area. She whined softly for the loss of lives and land, even though they shared no connection to her. It seemed, she unlike him - did openly mourn for the struggle of others.
She folded her hunched and brought the heavy tail around her paws. It was an old habit to keep her pads and paws warm in though snow. While it seemed unneeded here, it was a habit - and a habit it remained.
"I am sorry for your losses, and would do what I can to help. I can aid in the healing but by herbs grow in the highlands...and do not know this land well enough to use what it offers yet."
She hesitated, looking south as a bird flew skyward. Once more she looked back at him when he presumed she would whelp soon. She held his eyes for a long moment. It was not meant as a challenge, and after a moment those gentle eyes dropped away.
"No. My young were lost to me in the passing of the great moon. . . . My body just has yet to accept it."
While the woman settled upon her haunches, the Viking remained standing, though had relaxed his pointedly dominate position slightly. She had shown him respect, and had not made any moves to challenge his authority of the situation, nor to cross over the scent markers that kept them divided. The temperatures seemed to be in a constant, enigmatic flux here, varying from a teasing of spring the way a woman might tempt with her body in heat, back to the barren cold. Nevertheless, Spring was on it’s way and with it the thought of procreation. Idly, Björn could not help of think the intoxication of a female in her season, the primitive urges to possess and plant his seed, the desire to take what was given to him and spread the Lothbrok genetics to many sons (and daughters). Björn was not partial even to the title of ‘mate’ in truth. He would offer stud services where they were wanted - to reproduce or just for recreation - so long as if it was for reproduction permission had been granted because he certainly wasn’t going to jeopardize what he was working for the sake of a night of wanton passion.
“I am sure Thistle Cloud would be more than willing to assist you,” Björn had not pegged her for the type of girl to turn away someone who needed her help be it with an injury or knowledge. This was solidified by her prevailing patience with him. Björn watched as the woman hesitated at his question, and he thought that it meant she was reluctant to confirm it though he could see and smell the evidence for himself, but her eyes met his and the Savage waited, holding her gaze until she dropped it with the admittance that her children had been aborted, or killed shortly after their birth. Björn remained silent, thinking that it was a waste for a fertile female to lose her young. Perhaps there was a small measure of pity if only because her body still either thought she was pregnant or was still producing for ghost children.
Neither of which Nuka could control.
Going to draw
@Pump towards this, since it is technically a joining thread. :p
The female watched him. She was indeed not troubled by his injuries. Any male with out them among her people would have been seen as having an incomplete life, and unworthy of family on this place, or the feast at the tables of the father.
"No, I will not take a healers talents - my body has delivered three healthy litters. It will respond to what is missing in the time it needs. Until then, I will simply have to wait. My mind will be much longer in the healing then my body - so their is no great rush. I will celebrate their passing on the next great moon. Until then, I do not think I have the mind for it."
Yes, celebration. It was how her kindred looked upon death.
Her heart was yet to heavy for the proper response. Another challenge which would linger in her future was as most females - she would cycle into season in the weeks after giving birth. She had no intention of having another liter and would challenge any brute who tried to test her boundaries.
She was gentle, but by no means weak. As were the women of her kind, so often required. She tolerated the boorish men of her people, with a passive fondness. She admired their strength, and respected their ability to protect their own. She would also be equally as quick to challenge them if they doubted their own strength as a female and life bringer.
Björn waited until she was finished speaking before correcting her on what she had misunderstood from him. “I meant she could help you learn of the plants from these lands,” Björn spoke to clarify, and then added, “but she likely help with that even though you do not want it.” In truth, Björn was not sure what exactly it meant for her to let her body figure out the absence of the children within her on it’s own. Would she still go through ‘birth’? Björn did not ask. In truth, he supposed it mattered little in the grand scheme of things. She was not pregnant, as he had first assumed, as her body round and teats swollen with milk had first told him. “Is it not more torturous to let your body think it still carries when it doesn’t?” The Viking asked finally, if only because he could not understand. Perhaps he was incapable of understanding because he was a man - the creation of life ended for him with planting of his seed while women carried them and felt them grow within for the course of their pregnancy from the days after conception to their birthing.
As a libertine, Björn did not grow attached to his lovers, his interest in them as fleeting and spontaneous as it came, thusly he could not understand the other possible attachments beyond the young that Nuka might have had. In the ways of love, the Viking was clueless because he had never been in love. He had nourished lust many times than he cared to count, but that was all it had ever been. All it likely would ever be, for him.
[OCC - sorry, got carried away on the thread about a newsletter. To many ideas lol]
The female watched him, she noted his confusion but waited until he openly voiced that confusion rather then to point it out herself. She shook her head in that paitent way before standing once more. It seemed staying idle was a difficult thing for a creature so often on the move.
"I mean, Bjorn - that I have already delivered my litter. They lived, and they were lost. With out them to suckle, my body will in it's wisdom dry the milk created for them. I will be as I was once more."
She bowed at the back to stretch out before righting herself once more. She studied him in silence for a long moment, a tilt of her head in thought.
"Tell me, am I correct in thinking you come from the northlands and live as my fathers have? What has brought you so far south ... you seem as out of place in this warmer and kinder climate as I."
It's ok. :p
She corrected his, yet again, wrong assumption, and Björn’s eyes took in her rounded sides once more, thoughtful. If she had delivered, shouldn’t the weight have been dropped with each child as they were pushed from her body? “I see,” Björn said simply, ready to move on from the topic of her ghost children and the fact that she could have deceived easily if she had wanted too - though the fault in that would have been found when she did not give birth. Nevertheless, it mattered little. They were her burdens to bear, not his. Each carried their own troubles, their own pasts like weights upon the shoulders; and if it was children she desired there was always another season, and plenty of males to see the desire seeded. “I hail from the North, yes,” Came the Viking’s response to her question, though he was not sure exactly what she meant by ‘as my father’s have’. There were several cultures to the North, though Björn would boast the Vikings the most feared among them. It may not have been something most felt to take pride in but he took pride in it nevertheless. They had made their marks with their raids, their brutality, their lack of moral compasses, and sometimes being feared was better than being loved. Love could weaken, could falter and fail but fear…fear was prevalent. Fear endured and lingered. “Odinn has seen me here.” Came a second, simple answer, with no intentions of elaborating upon the vision that had inspired it all, or just how much of a kinship and connection the Viking felt with the God.
Her maw parted softly into a characteristic wolven smile when the other spoke of what had led him here. She gave a soft nod of understanding. There came none of the questions of which he had grown accustom. No "who is odinn" followed instead a simply nod of understanding marred with the contemplative look behind her gentle eyes.
"Then you have come in noble company, I hope you prove yourself worth to his attentions."
It might have been a challenge, and perhaps - maybe it still was. More then challenge it was a statement of fact. To be gifted by guide of the all father was of the highest importance. It was likely she didn't say anything he had not thought upon himself.
"It is my lady Freya which leads me.I do not know, for what reason she has seen me here - but I must trust that her wisdom exceeds my own."
Few days had passed, since Pump's last conversation with the white beast. She hadn't forgotten his proposition, as well as her own promise to grow, to change, in order to be a good leader, in order to become a queen. It was not easy to overcome the reserved manner she was used to harbor to any wolf. It also took time and a lot of effort to form relationships that could remotely be called a something like friendships, but she tried. Still not well enough to organize hunts, she contributed to the pack, doing frequent scavenger hunts along the shore and bringing back whatever scraps of food she could find. Odd, but it had become important for her to share with her gains - the old Pump would have scoffed at this kind of generosity.
She had also kept an eye on Bjorn, occasionally observing him from afar, trying to figure him out and looking for solid reasons to trust him. He was a strong and experienced wolf, no doubt, but it was also clear that he was a bit "too stiff" to bow to anyone. She was no fool either and sensed a possible competition for the crown in the future. Not yet, of course, since all of their fates were yet unclear, however... he didn't seem like a person, who would be happy being Beta for long and Pump knew already that she would not be willing to give up her current rank without a fight.
Pump had been hiding some scraps of meat, when she heard a melodious call. She had got quite used to being summoned to borders, because all of a sudden this place had become appealing in stranger's eyes and they were willing to join. She finished her job and then padded to the exact location and was pleased to see that Bjorn was doing his job and had already taken matters in his hands. The only thing left to do here was to join. "Bjorn, what do we have here?" she called out to the white wolf from afar and approached the two in a confident manner. She regarded the she-wolf with a careful look, but did not speak to her yet, waiting for the warden's verdict.
As was a nice change of what had become regular to Björn she did not ask him who Odinn was for she already knew. Björn offered her a small nod when she spoke, speaking of her hope that he was worthy of Odinn’s company. There was no need for Björn to speak but silently in the confines of his mind he confirmed that he did everything in his mortal power to be worthy of the Allfather’s attention, and favor. A seer had once told him that the Gods’ favor could change but Björn had no intention of letting himself slip off of their radar. “I have done everything the Allfather has asked of me,” Björn responded after a bit, feeling that there might have been a challenge in her words, but he did not allow himself to feel overtly threatened. He did not need to compete for Odinn’s favor having had ever since he could remember - when he had been a small pup suckling as his mother’s teat. The woman spoke of Freya, and for a moment Björn reflected upon the soft irony of that - both of them being lead by one another’s counterpart, but if she saw the irony in it as well, Nuka did not mention it and therefore neither did Björn. Likely, it was not of much importance, a sheer coincidence in a world that was strikingly full of them - coincidences.
Soon after Nuka had spoken of Freya Pump had arrived on the scene and Björn showed her the proper submission, brushing aside the strangeness of it. He had submitted before his time as Jarl, and this was no different. Pump addressed him and Björn spared a glimpse to Nuka briefly before his eyes settled back upon his dróttning, lips parting to respond to her inquiry. “This is Nuka,” Björn made the introduction before glimpsing back to Nuka, “Nuka, this is Pump, the Alpha.” Björn stated the obvious simply because it was what he felt compelled to do, before his eyes fell back upon the ebony hybrid. “She seeks a home with us for hers has been destroyed. I informed her that we have recently suffered a pack wide tragedy with the landslide and she informed me that she, like Thistle, is too a healer. Her talents will no doubt come in handy if you choose to accept her. I think Thistle has been running a little ragged to tend to everyone.” Likely not helped by Björn’s own stubbornness and dismissive take on the gash in his shoulder. As he thought about it, the muscles beneath the split skin jumped and his shoulders rolled as the urge to sate the itch with his teeth surged but was for the time being, ignored. With most of the information that Nuka had given to him passed on, the Viking fell silent, allowing Nuka to add anything she thought might assist her in her case, or for Pump to decide the ultimate verdict.
Which ever came first.
[OOC: I really do not recommend getting food poisoning the day after you join a new game...it is no fun.]
The heavily bodied she-wolf remained seated a few feet outside of the boarders. Her pelt was thicker than most wolves who lived in this region. This no doubt came from her kindred's preference for the cold and unyeilding lands to the north. Her lush tail was coiled calmly around her wide paws, a trait which was best used on the snow banks of her home.
She watched Bjorn with a calculating and quiet gaze. There was nothing about her that seemed all that impressive in regards to being a potential threat. She was neither aggressive nor excessively submissive. Her posture was one of quiet contentment, which made one wonder what all she had seen before arriving here.
When Bjorn expressed that he had done all that the All Father had asked of him, and let the silence stretch between them, she was content to nod. It was not her business to question or presume the wisdom of the Gods. While she reached out to the mother, Freya, she doubted he would spout off such claims if they were untrue. Odinn has no such patience for fools.
"Then, I wish you the best luck on your journey...and may your progress continue."
The arrival of the female ended any further conversations. She watched the posturing of the male, as he made way for the new commer. She knew that she was looking at the Alpha female, long before he gave such an introductions. A quiet and passive eye looked over the she-wolf, though she never quiet made eye contact. Respect, was forever important.
Instead, she used those powerful hindquarters, to rise silently. Her tail flagging softly and low behind her. Not the posture of a fearful and skittish new commer - but all the posture of a respectful and calm mature wolf, who had played this game before. She let the others speak before taking her turn.
"I thank you for your audience and I am truly sorry for the losses you must have suffered during such a troubling time. I would like to offer my assistance if you will have it."
For some reason others thought that Pump's emotional state had been affected in any way because of the rockslide. That she cared for those, who had disappeared without a trace, Akhlut included. No such thing - she hadn't known most of them before - and her attitude towards death and loss was very down to earth. It happened, you couldn't do anything about it and life went on. There were tasks to be done, goals to achieve and quests to conquer.
Therefore she acknowledged Nuka's condolences with a curt nod and then gave her a very similar speech she had said to Gavriil. Honesty first and better to warn of the bad than to give false hopes. "I have always considered that home is a place, where you belong and where you are needed," she began, "However, I have had my share of disappointment in this field, therefore I warn beforehand - you might or might not find here, what you are looking for."
"I am not nice and I do not promise friendship," she went on, "But I believe that the person's character is reflected on how hard and dedicated they are to their work. Therefore - do your best and I promise to you that I as your alpha will help and stand by you in good and bad times." Pump cast a serious glance at the she-wolf: "We need strong wolves here - are you going to be one of them?" Here was her part of the deal. Whether Nuka took it or not was for her to decide.
[OOC- Bjorn, asked me to post ahead of him]
The large she-wolf watched as the Alpha spoke her terms. She regarded her with a calm and even gaze, her eyes holding a gentle wisdom and paitence which was impossible to miss. She did not posture or throw flattery as the female - instead, she simply waited.
Once the female finished speaking her terms, Nuka folded her haunches and sat. The heavy bristled tail which had been waving behind her, now came to settle over her broad feet.
Gentle brown eyes blinked before responding to her question.
"A strong wolf? I survived my lifetime in the barren lands to the north. This has made me both effective at lasting with out, and a gifted huntress. I lead my pack for three years, and with that came responsibility of strength and a wisdom of leadership. Now, I come to you - the only survivor of my kindred - and it is the strength of my lady that brings me before you. I leave you to judge my merit, but can swear that I do nothing in this world with half my heart. My hunts, my loyalties and my friendships come complete, and once I have a home - I will defend it with my life."
She watched the female evenly, there was no challenge in how she was addressing her - instead, her voice came soft but with a hardened edge of resolve.
Pump was impressed by Nuka's bold speech and at the end of it, a small smile was tugging at the corners of her lips. It wasn't often that the wolf-dog's first impression of a person was very good, she was very guarded about making judgements of character and yet she couldn't find a single thing that would make her distrust the she-wolf. Maybe it was her calm-demeanor and the fact that she spoke from experience that made her want to have her in the ranks.
"Very well then," Pump said. "I will be honored to have you in the Horizon ridge ranks," she stepped back and then cast a glance at Bjorn. "I can take it from here - I will show Nuka around," she told him. "You can come with us, if you wish so." If not he was free to go and do, whatever he thought was useful.
ooc: fading out the thread. And Nuka - I would love to have one with you - so that Pump gets to know your girl better.