She had been born of Amun; she had known no other father. He alone had breathed life into her body, and for that she belonged for all eternity to Him. Amun had given her much, though from Hatshepsut he had also brazenly taken; first her father, fading quickly into the clutches of a malady the priests could not remedy. Her mother, beloved Ahmes, followed quickly; Thutmose had been the only man for whom her heart longed.
But Hatshepsut had not fallen. No, she had risen in their courts and in the hearts of their courtiers, their confidants, their priests. Even her plain, dull brother recognized the fire within his sister, and retreated into bitter plots against her. But their father had granted his savage daughter a blessing beyond the imagining of Karnak; he had elevated her beside him to Regent.
The woman did not smile as she made her way through the grass, choosing her steps with careful dignity. Muzzle lifted to taste the air, and her hackles leapt to attention along her proud, narrow shoulders; There were creatures here, wolves, and they served no god, if the lack of temples, even crude statues, were to be believed.
Presently she halted, sides heaving with an exertion that did not show itself upon her cool features; Hatshepsut raked the meadow with her eyes, and found it wanting.
With Tuwawi off on her adventure, it was up to Njal to protect their little family. Protect, and provide for - which he did happily. Today he gave Danica the opportunity to meet them, tasking her with guarding the rambunctious month-old pups while he ventured away. He wouldn't go far. The warden's interest lay in the meadow, perhaps the forest beyond it, scouring the territory for something to bring them; they could eat meat now, but only regurgitated meals. He mused to himself as he loped along, wondering what kind of toy he should seek out for them... A bone, a turtle shell, something less morbid perhaps --
And then a smell hit him. It wasn't a heavy scent; something airy and new. Very much not familiar, and not from around here. The male steadied his pace and changed direction, slowing when he caught sight of someone in the distance. Their gaze was directed away from him - and so he took that opportunity to stride closer. This was neutral land and the stranger was not from the mountains, so Njal felt little worry. There was a slight prickling to his spine that occurred out of his control, but aside from that he was genial. A chuff in the stranger's direction would serve to alert them to his presence, and then he stood and waited - watching carefully.
At once she paused, the low sound sending her body still and tense. Lapis gaze traveled toward the interloper, the disturber of her daydreaming; she appraised him silently, a hale man with the stamp of smoke and power upon him. The other had made no overtures of aggression toward her, and so Hatshepsut met his gaze and remained as she was, staring at him with a carefully neutral veil across her expression.
She wished to see what it was he would do; the delicate female held herself as Regent, as Amun had granted, and would not be easily swayed from her intentions. Nor would she be foolish. Careful scrutiny of the land before the man had arrived quickly taught the Egyptian of her paths away from pending danger, and her years of harsh training had remained with her.
The stranger did not flee, nor did she approach. They shared a brief glance during which moment Njal tried to discern her motives - but he was still unsure. She was a regal thing. Petite, compact, but with a proud bearing that caught his curiosity. As they sized one another up Njal was silent; however, he assumed a swaggering step in order to approach her. The stranger's scent was unlike anything he had come across so far. The warden thus assumed that she was far from home - wherever that may be. Perhaps she was in need of shelter.
With everything that had happened in the creeklands of late, Njal wasn't aware of how fit the pack was to take on another mouth to feed. So instead, he nodded solemnly to her and commented dryly, "There is a pack north of here that lives alongside the river, and another just west of that upon a mountain," If she was a traveler then this knowledge would be worthwhile to her, even if it was a bit sudden. If he couldn't aid this newcomer otherwise, he could at least give her knowledge of the area.
A small smile crept upon his face as he tried to appear friendly, but there was a steely quality to the gold of his gaze; careful, protective. "Your scent is very different from others I have encountered." Njal mentioned, as if it explained his strange passing of information. "Welcome to the Teekon Wilds."
The man chose the next moments in which to make his approach, and Hatshepsut held the small bit of ground she had claimed. Soon, close enough was he that she could see the temple-gold of his eyes, underlaid with a steel that she would do well to heed. The man spoke, and the Regent listened, pocketing away the information he proffered so freely.
"I am very different," the bantam creature informed her much larger counterpart, by way of response to his comment upon her scent, but said no more. Her eyes drifted over the scars visible upon his face; he surely wore more beneath the thick melding of his plush coat. "Thank you. What I have seen of these Wilds thus far is very beautiful indeed."
Loveliness meant little to Hatshepsut, however; she had been birthed and reared in a constant state of worshipful enchantment. Her place was in the field, as her commander might have laughed.
I am very different, the stranger replied, succinct and confident. There was a very faint lilt to the way the female spoke, but Njal was neither attentive enough or intelligent enough to recognize the slight accent; he only reflected upon the curiosity within the voice for a moment, and moved on. She was sizing him up in a demure manner - and in return he watched her, traced the outline of her face, and committed her smell to memory despite lacking a name.
A passing remark slipped from her lips, but it brought a sense of pride to Njal. The wilds were beautiful indeed. They held an allure which had, thus far, brought only good things to the creek pack. Their numbers seemed to always be growing - but the male paused in his reflection. He thought of what little room there truly was and reminded himself that the Sveijarn brood could not sustain themselves for much longer.
I would advise, if you are looking for a place to rest... To keep moving. It wasn't a threat exactly, but the words held a foreboding aura to them that Njal regretted. He hadn't quite let go of the issues between the creek and the mountain pack, and wasn't about to hand them a possible addition to their ranks. "The wolves on the mountain are led by... A rather unhinged individual," That was putting it lightly (and far too nicely according to the gamma); "And the river pack is overflowing with strong bodies."
The river pack. He couldn't even say its name, the mere thought of Swiftcurrent causing guilt to flood his heart - and potentially show upon his face. Njal was good at hiding his emotions, but perhaps not that good.
He spoke again, and she was quickly becoming accustomed to the sound of his voice, and the information he proffered with each passing word. He spoke vaguely of the mountain pack, and the river pack. Had Hatshepsut been in search of a home, she would have considered this more closely, but as it was, she took the gold-eyed male's words at their face value.
Her small paws moved the Regent closer to the man; she gazed up at him, nares flared to take his scent. "And you? from where do you hail?" Having been raised in a court webbed with conspiracies, with lies, with deceit — there was an undercurrent to the male's words that did not make sense to the Egyptian, not with the scent of the lands heavily upon him. He would know the names of these packs, their leaders.
And so she was silent, perhaps at an impasse with this handsome denzien of the Teekon Wilds, but determined to draw what information she so needed from him.
She picked up on his conflicted emotions swiftly, but made little mention of them; instead asking a question that made him all the more thoughtful: "And you? From where do you hail?" Njal instantly began to shrug, but caught himself mid-motion. He was a creek wolf, thoroughly devoted to the survival of the wolves by the river. But he was also a Sveijarn, and that trumped his loyalties - meaning that he was without a home.
He didn't know what to say, and thus a disquiet fell between them. Njal was thoughtful for a moment longer, and then declared: "I hail from the river pack.. But it will not be my home for much longer." Was she really interested in his plans, or was she after something else? He couldn't tell -- the mindless mountain, that was Njal -- but after stating that ominous bit of detail, he had to do something to prevent further questions; therefore, he moved on swiftly.
"I suppose that means Swiftcurrent Creek will be after more able bodies soon." He turned then, and looked behind him at the horizon. Somewhere over there, his children slept. Perhaps, since the Sveijarn family were leaving, they could put the rivalry between river and mountain behind them.
Hatshepsut was silent. The man was defecting, and there was sure to be an important reason behind his choice. The woman watched him quietly, mulling over what he had spoken. Swiftcurrent Creek. And the mountain pack, which she would avoid. His golden eyes had traveled in the direction of his current home, and she found the treeline easily with her own gaze, a dark shadow from this distance. "Swiftcurrent must be a country of fools if they would drive a one such as you away."
Her words were not intended to flatter, and she expected that the man would understand this. Hatshepsut was not a creature fashioned for fawning, for groveling; no. Egypt had belonged to her, at least for the time before her half-brother had found his testicles at last and driven her away on pain of death.
"You will need strong bodies as well," the Regent murmured, training her cool lapis eyes upon his own confidently. She needed not the rigidity of a long-established pack, nor one with a leader who might very well exhort his wolves into danger. The seed of a new order had been sown within her mind, and Hatshepsut would not easily forget it.
The barest of smiles crept across his face when she spoke. There was little feeling behind the expression though. A sort of numbness had begun to seep in to him ever since the pack meeting, where his wife had announced their departure. Now, with the prospect of leaving so tangible, Njal was unsure of how to feel. Any remarks made against the creek and its wolves would have elicited hostility from him on any other day... But he wouldn't deny her statement.
"You will need strong bodies as well," the woman commented next, and Njal found his interest piqued. Here was this stranger - this absolute, complete stranger - making implications of potential loyalty. His brow furrowed in the next moment, for he was curious about her motives and unsure. She was a fresh face in the valley which was good in some ways; however, he knew nothing about her. How could he invite her along to their budding family if she was so... Foreign.
"Yes," he finally responded - agreeing with the statement but nothing more. Not yet. The warden drew in a soft breath and drifted in his thoughts for a moment. "But not yet." Maybe in the future when the children had been moved and he had allies he could count on, then the stranger could be trusted. He wasn't about to put his faith in a total stranger from another land, someone as exotic as the regal beauty before him. "Perhaps when we have finally been ousted from the creek, I can call on you?"
Hatshepsut was silent. She nodded, appreciating the care he sought to take with his transition from packwolf to leader. Hatshepsut would not have trusted him had he taken her easily into the fold; the Egyptian suspected he was not alone in his endeavours. The scarring across his face, the confidence with which he held himself, the coldness of his gilded eyes — such men were not without families. The Regent would have been surprised had he not been possessed of a mate and children.
A wan smile curved her lips. "Yes. In the interim, I will continue my travels. It seems this part of the country holds nothing for me." In Karnak, Hatshepsut would have taken this moment to dismiss the man, but here she ruled nothing, and it was his prerogative to send her upon her way.
"I am Ma'at-ka-Ra Hatshepsut," the Egyptian lilted in the singsong cadence of her native tongue. "But Hatshepsut will suffice," the desert creature added with a mischievous spark alighting her lazuli gaze.
So an agreement was made. He thought to warn her about the packs across the mountains, the prolific wolves of the west, but decided against it. Part of the enjoyment in wandering was the exploration and Njal wasn't about to divulge every little secret; although, she seemed far too proper to be a vagrant. And then, as she spoke her name, Njal was made further aware of how foreign she was. (Ma'at-ka-Ra? What sort of thing is that to call a child?) Again the warden looked disgruntled, but the expression was momentary. "But Hatshepsut will suffice," All awkwardness aside, he gave a nod of acquiescence.
"I am Njal Sveijarn, and my wife is Tuwawi Sveijarn," A warmth sparked within him as he spoke her name, but it was guarded just the same. "Our plan is to head in to the north or the east from the creek. If you tire of your travels in the future, you may find us there." Unless their plans went awry of course. He had no way of knowing if Bazi would refuse them their departure or if some other catastrophe lay in wait. The beast had such thoughts on his mind as he turned away from her, sparing one fleeting glance across her face and filigreed coat; "Goodbye, Hatshepsut. Good luck to you in your travels."
Hatshepsut was silent. "Sveijarn," she repeated, though her desert accent perhaps emphasized the word incorrectly. No mind; it was a name she would remember. Accepting his departure with a dip of her slim muzzle, the Egyptian blessed his travels: "May Ra warm your back and Nut keep you safe if you walk beneath the stars, Njal."
A wife. Tuwawi, Hatshepsut pondered to herself, wondering in what tongue the man and his mate had been raised. She watched him go with cool gaze, and stance that had somewhat relaxed now guarded itself against unseen eyes.
The Egyptian would depart this place and its spire of mountains; there was nothing for her here. And thus, when Njal had disappeared from view, the bantam Regent trotted forth and began her own trek away from the creek pack and the river pack.