News of Skillege’s gathering had traveled north.
The wind whipped as she trekked along the shore, the wind tugging her coast every which way as she trekked through the low tide. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the woman found herself looking to the horizon momentarily. No emotions overcame her in this brief moment. Instead, she only found herself breaking her attention to focus her attention towards the mainland. Her gaze remained unwavering even as the water crept up along her ankles.
Despite the overwhelming smell of salt, she could smell him here. His scent lingered in the air like an unwanted cigar, And yet, it only caused her to linger and remain as she was. With her head lifted high, and a steady drumming in her chest, the warrior lifted a song into the air, beckoning for the one who she had traveled all this way for.
The other calls that had sounded near his borders had made sense to the wraith. He had known their voices and had not found himself altogether surprised to hear their song being sung to beckon him – Jagoda, Leokadia, and even catching sight of Ishild. While he had not imagined the Cairns would have traveled far from Warsaw, he did not reel as heavily as he had when the Ryba’s steady howl struck the length of his inky ears. The great leviathan turned his crown in the direction of the border where she sat and he found his limbs quivering for a moment before carrying him dutifully to the edge of the bay. Once his gaze caught sight of the female, all doubts were removed from his mind, and he found a curiosity had settled there instead.
“I would not have imagined a Ryba on my bay,” he drawled in a rumbling timbre. The darkness of his eyes swallowed her pale form whole and he sniffed the scents that her coat carried. She had traveled for some time, he noted internally. Skellige had made the trek himself, from the shores of the Warsaw islands to the depths of the Teekon Wilds, and he knew that it was dangerous and long, but what perplexed him was the idea that this woman had made it though she bore no blood relation to him.
So he waited with an intense patience for the girl to speak.
Anticipation crept through her being as her song faded into nothingness. And yet, her expression remained stoic. The storm was gathering power in the distance, pulling from its nearby resources in an attempt to gain power. One could say that Skellige was a storm as well, gathering resources just beyond the coast. Keto knew that she would be a resource in this attempt of power-- a Carin no less. And yet, she was ready for the storm to pull her in at a full force. She did not fear the storm, only her previous actions. But those were all in the past.
His lumber form eventually emerged in the distance and she found herself coming to a stand in that moment, droplets rolling on her pale gorm as she awaited his arrival. He was much larger than she had remember, but then again many of his relatives bore strength that was often unmatched upon her own ranks. She had to keep this in mind, despite everything.
“And I would have never anticipated traveling for days upon days to follow a Carin,” She replied cooly, her eyes meeting his in that moment. “But here we are.” She felt no shame in admitting this. Time had a fickle way of changing things and this was one of it’s endless examples. Cutting to the chase, she addressed the white elephant in the room, cutting the bullshit of attempting to gain his pity. She would not go on about her journey or how rugged it was-- that was all irrelevant now. “I have come to join your ranks,” she confessed, eyes diverting only out of respect.
At once, the pale creature met his words with a snap of her own, and the brute’s lips curled wayward to expose yellowed canines that glinted against the small light that shone on them. The fur along his neck and spine bristled irritably and, though he had to find himself impressed by her gumption, Skellige would not stand for such words. “The Cairn family has treated you well on the islands. Do not forget that,” came the lash of his tongue against the girl. They were not on the islands, though, and she had traveled a great stretch of land and sea in order to find him there… but he did not understand why. The Ryba family had done well enough on the shores of the islands; he had recalled their numbers had grown greatly, but they had never held any claim over the territory in the same manner as the Cairn wolves.
Lifting his tail upward and drawing his crown so that he towered over her form, the brute eyed her with his brows furrowed tightly over his dark eyes. She was there to join his ranks, but he could not help but think that she had been sent from the islands in search of him. Drawing a single brow upward, the great sea king leered at her for a second longer before allowing words to fall from his leathery lips.
“You leave behind the islands, after most of my family – the family you spoke so highly of only moments before – has abandoned it. Why? Would the Ryba clan not have a higher chance with most of the Cairn children out here?” he inquired of her, and though his voice was level, there was a sharpness to his words that suggested she keep her wit and good will on lockdown. Skellige was not a foolish creature; he was wary of this pale form, though she brought a flood of memories from his past. He could recall the woman standing beside him during raids. He remembered training her for attack parties. Now she stood on the edge of his territory asking for a place among his ranks. “Why?”
She had rattled his cage and she knew it. Though his intimidation bore down upon her, she remained as she was, tail waving behind her to meet his irritation. There had always been a rivalry between the houses, despite their alliances. The humor had come from what was clawing within her and tearing her apart, it was coming for the desperation that drove her to his borders. But, in hindsight, she knew that it wasn’t the moment for such jabs, especially as she stood at his border with her back to the sea.
The next thing to pass his lips was what she was expecting, a lash accompanying his concern. She understood this concern and she aided these feelings by softening her expression in that moment. “The North has not fared well since the Carins departed…” she confided in him, her eyes dropping for a moment before reaching up to meet his once more. “Tradition has taken over everything and our battles have turned internal.” She was not proud to admit this, but it had to be said. Despite the fact that she was being groomed for leadership her life was very much in danger up north. There was upset within their lower ranks and the Ryba’s had found themselves divided on the island. “I have killed many of my own blood to be here today.”
“I didn’t know what to do until we got word of your reign down here,” she admitted, the dark line of her lips falling straight. “But when I got word, I knew it was my time to move on.” The weight of the situation crashed upon her like a wave upon a shoreline, and yet she stood strong despite it all. “Faith in you guided me here. I mourn for my family and mourn for what they have become, but I refuse to partake in it anymore.” She dipped her chin in that moment in respect, her tail waving as she lowered herself. “I believe that you offer a better future than the Ryba’s could ever offer and that is why I am here today.” She grew silent after, waiting for what he had to say.
Their home was faring well since the Cairn children had departed from the shores, and while this should have been something of good news for the inky brute, he found himself feeling ill at the thought of his home falling to the hands of one of the surrounding packs. It did not show on his face, but the thick muscles beneath his pitch cloak seemed to tighten. If the battles were turning internal, there was no need to worry about the packs on the outside of the islands; they would destroy the empire from within. How long before the other Cairn wolves would begin coming to the wilds in search of him? How long would it be before even his own mother came to find the new empire he had created and they attempted to overthrow him? No, Serafiem would not part with Warsaw; not while she was alive. They would have to take her cold body away from those islands.
To know that Keto had killed many of her own was a small triumph for the dark brute. Skellige’s own attempt at taking down his sister had been botched, but that did not mean it was difficult to murder family. Nevertheless, he continued to listen to the pale girl as she wove a tale that spoke of tragedy on the sands of their home, and he wondered still if she was a spy sent from the islands in search of him. Forcing himself to cast the image aside, the leviathan peered at her with scrutiny in his gaze. She had hoped that he would give her a better future than Warsaw could. The brute could not deny this was true, but his wariness was enough to hold him back for a moment.
Breathing deeply, the great inky brute stepped forward and tilted his head to breathe in the scents that had gathered along the fur of her neck. “We still practice many of the old rituals here, Keto,” he spoke, recalling the name of the young dredge who had fought alongside him. “Our lands will not be too different from those of home, but you would not have to fear for your life if you would obey.” The intensity in which he spoke had been absent for the other recruits, and even his own siblings. This was a wolf who had come to him without the tug of blood relation to pull her, and she had hoped that he could give her something better than she had had before. Skellige would not disappoint her, but Keto would need to know that the wolves of Blackrock Depths would be just a vile as those of Warsaw.
A shiver coursed along the length of her spine as he took in the scent that she bore. Her scent, that she once proudly, was only a reminder of the lives that she had taken. As he spoke, her eyes lifted. The words that he said registered instantly and she nodded. Though, she grew curious. “What traditions have you carried with you?” She lifted her head in this moment, her head tilting as curiosity overtook her. She did not worry for this, though, she cared deeply in the traditions that their clans upheld. In the right paws, these followings could do great things.
As he promised safety, a smile crossed her lips and she nodded. “Skellige,” she said, her eyes looking to his as she resumed her natural resting bitch face. “I will follow your lead, wherever you take me and your pack.” She rarely bowed to others, but the was a clearly a different situation. “If you’ll have me,” her formality promised as she dropped herself.
The pale female inquired about the traditions that Skellige had carried from their homelands, and he narrowed his brows on her, wondering if she was merely digging for information to carry back with her. The rituals and culture of the Warsaw wolves were deeply coveted and his only reason for humoring her inquiry was that she had been raised with them just as he had. “Most of them,” was his quick response, though he was willing to elaborate somewhat. “The drop, the blessings, the ritual of the guides. We will do well to honor the ceremonies of our home,” he spoke in a level tone, but there was an inkling of pride in the rumble of his voice. The leviathan was tied very closely to the way they had been taught.
But it did not do well to simply offer her any information that she requested. He was still wary of her intentions, and though she spoke with a strangely genuine tone, the titan was not convinced. The cold frown still lingered on his lips as the wraith drew his coral-colored tongue across his muzzle and swiveled a single ear atop his crown. The waves lapped at the shoreline and he felt himself calming to the quiet ambience. Just then, a though struck him and he realized it would be his only way of trusting her. “Prove yourself to me, Keto. Go into the waters and retrieve a string of kelp for me; the longest you can find,” he demanded of her, gesturing with the length of his inky muzzle toward the waters.