After the quake, Freyja had found herself with a sense of duty. This feeling was one that had driven her to
@Thuringwethil’s side. She knew there was much to be done in the wake of the mountain’s protest-- an act that still left the child baffled-- and she would do everything that she could to pitch in. The two had been drawn to the borders and Freyja felt that this was an opportunity for her to see if any of their non-wolf neighbors had migrated. Freyja, grimly, assumed that they had.
But it was as they walked the borders that Freyja caught a whiff of elk and quickly excused herself to go and see where exactly the prey was. The trail lead her from the border and to the geyser field. Some damage had been done-- that much was obvious by merely looking at the field. But, this was overshadowed by Freyja’s discovery. Somehow, in the midst of the chaos, an elk had gone astray Frejya lingered and smiled; it was almost as if the mountain was apologizing for the ruckus it had made.
She threw her attention over her shoulder and called to the Heda with a soft chuff, hoping to notify the dark-furred leader and anybody who happened to be around of what she had discovered.
During the day, Thuringwethil has the chance to really inspect the mountain and find out the extent of damage—if any—before they move forward. If it occurs again, or there is more danger in their future, she knows they may have to make some decisions. Their home to be threatened by their own location may cause a rift but Thuringwethil plans to keep them together. Naturally, Freyja tags along and she is here and there as they both do their own things, inspecting as they move along, but she’s distracted when Freyja calls from up the bend.
There is no fear in Freyja’s call and so Thuringwethil does not rush to her side but she does direct her course a little and comes up nearby so they are working their way into the geyser field. Her ears swivel forward with a slight head tilt as she sees the elk wandering around as if lost. Her brows knit together as she takes a few steps but she does not cut Freyja off yet from exploring with her. She attempts to keep quiet upon her approach, not wanting to get too close to a confused elk of that size but the opportunity seems a little left to chance. Thuringwethil can’t help but wonder if last night’s earth rattling, and then moon, have something to do with the gift wrapped up before them.
However, something—or someone—makes a sound that snaps the elk’s attention right in their direction but she takes a step back with a gasp at what she sees. It doesn’t appear to see either of them as its attention turns and the extent of the damage can be seen: skin ulcerated and angry, as if melted from its face, and likely damage done to both eyes if it can’t find its way around. Thuringwethil’s jaw tightens and a flutter in her chest rises, for the coincidence is not overlooked.
Soon enough Thuringwethil fell into line alongside. Turning towards the leader, she dipped her head and smiled. Her sight would have lingered on the leader for longer, but her attention was drawn away when a snap directed her attention elsewhere. Her expression grew worried as she looked from the leader, to the general area in which the snap came from, and then, finally, towards the wandering elk. All of this occurred so quickly that Freyja caught the horrific sight before them.
She flinched, her ears flattening quickly as she turned back to Thuringwethil. She had never seen anything like this before and, honestly, it was not the sweetest of sights. Looking to the Heda, Freyja looked up, as if she were looking for some comfort in that moment.
Freyja doesn’t speak but she can feel the tension in the air. Thuringwethil holds her breath for a moment longer without moving, for if the elk could see her it will surely charge. Uncertain if it has any sight left, Thuringwethil isn’t willing to risk a scared, in pain, and strong creature on either of them. Eventually, it makes a low, bellowed cry and begins hesitant steps in the opposite direction, away from the geyser opening into the outside world.
“We need to keep him here,” she then says to the girl, turning down to glance at her but her gaze returns quickly to the hoofed beast. “Wintam Dina will be soon and the mountain has rewarded us,” she says, no longer suspecting the mountain may be a danger for them.
This sign of peace, perhaps an offering, for their winter feast has been handed to her in no other perfect timing. Her ears shift and she looks to the girl with a brow lifting.
“We always have a feast before winter, a sign of hope for a fruitful winter, and a feast once winter is over, to be thankful for surviving it,” she explains though she finds herself drifting back to the elk for a moment longer before she nudges the girl back the way they’d came. “I have not been through a whole winter here so I do not know the extent of what we will face but they were harsh in Seageda.”
Clearly the pair was at an advantage in this situation. The elk had been stripped of it’s ability to successfully save itself from the looming predators. Turning to Thuringwethil, Freyja nodded. “I can help keep it here,” she volunteered with a bob of her head. Her ears perked in her interest as the leader mentioned Wintam Dina and she tilted her head in her curiousity.
She did not speak a word until Thuringwethil had spoken. But, when she did, she met the leader’s facts with a question that was laced with suspicion. “Does the land always bless us with food for Wintam Dina?” It seemed quite peculiar to her that the mountain would bless them. But, then again, perhaps this elk was merely an apology for the havoc it had wrecked, as she had expected.
I can help keep it here.
Thuringwethil looks down at Freyja and there’s a part of her that wants to object. Seageda rarely regarded children as incapable once they’d proven themselves and Freyja is no obsession. She has surged beyond her siblings (not to say they aren’t far behind, either) but she has goals and aspirations and far be it for Thuringwethil to stand in her way. The need to protect, however, sits in the pack of her mind and she can’t help but feel Wildfire has been rubbing off on her. The desire for children has been dormant within her, even after going through her own maturity, but the idea that she may have her own to look after has struck an odd chord.
She bites back the urge to coddle the girl and keep her from her job and, instead, she nods.
“Good,” she says against the words that sit on the tip of her tongue. “Arrange shifts to block the opening and scare him back—it doesn’t appear that he can see very well.” And, most of all, a silent be careful hangs upon her tone.
When Freyja mentions the course of Wintam Dina, Thuringwethil shakes her head but does not explain right away. Instead she moves a little further in to watch the large elk stumble to get around. A geyser shoots up not far from him, startling him back several steps, but ultimately he falls still in one place as if he’s given up.
“It does not but I do think this is a sign. I thought last night was the commanders before me trying to tell me something but… I think this is it. That Drageda’s first full winter will be a good one,” she explains. Coincidence, maybe, but Thuringwethil knows better. Her dreams are few and far between and while the former Heda’s have been quiet, she knows she’s not completely alone.
Freyja nods to the Heda’s commands and takes a moment longer to survey the area before them. Though dangerous, Freyja has been able to navigate these fields before without a problem. But, given the nature of her prey, she was unsure of what trouble such a creature would bring.
Her attention shifted momentarily at the mention of Wintam Dina and Freyja nodded. “I’m sure it will be,” she replied, confidence brimming in her voice as she spoke. Her attention turned back to the meandering elk and she frowned. “Are we going to keep it alive until Wintam Dina?” How long would that be? “Or catch it when we can get some help?” It was all up to the Heda to decide.
“We will keep it alive until Wintam Dina. It won’t be long,” she explains. It will come soon, when she announces it, but it is in the air as the days grow colder. As it will be Freyja’s first, Thuringwethil realizes as Heda, it will be her first. Seageda had one when she was young but Seageda’s fall had occurred before they got a chance. It is only right Drageda have one to surpass the fruition of all others. “It will be a good winter,” she tells Freyja, tells herself. Tanja’s disapproval, as well as a handful of others, will turn around—she’s sure of it.
Freyja nods, her attention lingering on the elk as questions began to rise about Wintam Dina. “How do we know when Wintam Dina will happen?” she asked suddenly, her eyes turning towards the Heda as her characteristic sense of curiosity overtook her. “And when it does happen, what do we do?”
“It happens before winter hits,” she explains. There is no hard and fast rule on a date. Now that they’ve been presented with the elk, it will happen soon (only to be delayed by specific events), but they will have someone monitor their prey for days to come until they are ready. “We will bring the elk down and we will have a feast. Sometimes others will bring berries and if the main kill is not enough, there are other small games around. No one goes to sleep on an empty stomach,” she says with a slight grin, excited for their first dina.
A smile formed upon her lips as Thuringwethil went on to explain their custom of Wintam Dina and soon enough, her tail began to wag slowly at the thought of it all. “I cannot wait for it,” she admitted. “Has Drageda always done this?” she asked after a pause of though, as questions began to form fue to her wanting to learn more about thier custom.
Freyja announces her excitement and Thuringwethil nods, feeling the same. She’d been young, too, when she’d gone through hers, close to Freyja’s age, and it had been a wonder. With the elk having fallen in their lap, she hopes to feel a repeat of that once more. It’ll unite all of them and hopefully the Seageda born and bred will grow a little fonder of those that have made up Drageda for so long. “This will be Drageda’s first. But my wolves, from Seageda, have always done this. Trigeda will celebrate it, too,” she says. The opportunities they have are would be endless if they were closer to one another but their distance, for the moment, has meant little.
She took in the information with a nod, her eyes shining at the aspect of the entire pack coming together. It would be a time for them to eat at once and catch up with one another before Winter officially settled. Looking from the Heda to the elk, Freyja knew that she would have to stay blocking in the prey. “Should I go and begin to block in the elk? I don't want it wandering too far.” She asked, turning her eyes back to the commander as she waited for her approval. When the command was given, Freyja dipped her head and made her way to the elk. It would take some time, but soon enough, the argent-colored child had secured the prey's spot in the geysery field until it was needed for Wintam Dina.