Maiken had fought until she couldn't anymore. She had watched as Fury had crumbled and died. Then she had watched as Adlartok had died. His body on the ground, bloodied and broken. A man stronger than she.
She had deep wounds across her chest, and back, a sharp pain in her muzzle where teeth had connected. She had fought until she had realized it would be her death and then she had run. Two against one, was not a fair fight, especially when both were bigger than she.
She would return and slowly move the herbs out, but for now. She found the deepest darkest corner she could and curled up as tightly as she could and she realized with a sharp pain in her chest. She had no one.
Not even
@Jörmungandr was near, at least she didn't think so. She had put what herbs and dressings she had managed to gather into the wounds, and cobwebbed them tightly, but they still hurt and they still leaked. But at least they were free of infection.
The dark wolf had not found a place that suited him. He had traversed the wilds with interested glances at each unmarked mountain slope, each frost-touched forest. They all had appealing features. He merely did not have followers. The healer had said that she would join him, if he could find others. Jörmungandr had struggled in this. Everywhere he went, he saw those tainted by Kvit. Even still, he seethed to know that the woman was beneath the pale ruler – the way she had spoken to him had been disgusting.
Padding confidently through the forest, the dark wolf paused on a familiar scent. His wine stare flicked, one way, then another. Lifting his snout into the air, Jörmungandr drank in the smells of the wild. Maiken could be scented, he knew. The distinct aroma of herbs and the stench of the tainted ones she shared a home with. The man followed the scent until he had found her.
Jörmungandr was not a kind man.
Maiken.
The black wolf’s voice was rough against the cold air. He could smell the freshness of her wounds. This was why the pale-furred ones could not be trusted. Jörmungandr’s stare was grim.
What happened?
Maiken had promised Jörmungandr that she would join him, if he found a place. Now she had no other options. Though she had fought for her home, because it was what was expected of her. She had not enjoyed it. And she bore the newest wounds for it.
Maiken lifted brown eyes, and met his red eyed gaze. She tilted her head. Jörmungandr. Krig skjedde.
Maiken moved so that her wounds were closer to see. The tear in her chest, in her side. The teeth upon her muzzle.
New scars to add to my collection of broken promises. The warcheif's daughter took a life, and when the wolves came to collect. They did not get what they wanted, which was a life for a life, because Fury took her own life. And since their revenge was not given. They attacked. I fought because it was what was expected of me, but I left when i knew I would die. I won't die on foreign soul, for a crime I didn't commit.
Maiken had gone to war for that abomination?
A flicker of rage danced like fire in his single eye.
The pale-furred wench had gone to war and her horrid offspring had taken a life. Retaliation was the only answer for those who had suffered at the fangs of the pale wolves. Jörmungandr felt bile rise in the back of his throat. He had known from the moment the woman had interrupted his conversation with the healer. The dark man had known that she was a vile thing. He could not believe that Maiken had allowed herself to suffer, by that monster’s orders.
This is why the pale-furred ones are not to be trusted. Svart blessed you only by keeping you alive, Maiken. To fight for that- that filth…
Jörmungandr huffed a breath into the cold air.
The man would not allow himself to lose his temper. He held his emotions in an impenetrable cage. There would be no sniveling, no show of concern. It was the way of the berserker.
Did they get their payment?
Had the wolves taken the life that was owed to them?
Maiken shifted and stretched her aching muscles. A small purl of her tongue as she gave a soft snort of pain. She didn't cry out or whine. This was not the way of a Svart and she had learned early on that silence was better. It kept you alive. And this wolf reminded her of one who would hate sniveling anyway.
Yes Svart did.
She murmured. Though one could argue that I was taught a lesson for my life.
Her tone was dry, but that was probably what this was. Some sort of lesson. Of what she didn't know.
Maiken shook her head. They wanted the daughter, but one of the other warriors died to give her time to escape.