Thuringwethil considers hunting down the wolf Gyda brought home, putting him under her own scrutinization, she gives him a day or so to get rest. A tired wolf, even if she’d taken in a few exhausted stragglers, wouldn’t make it too far. Gyda had seen promise in him but something caused her to question it and she couldn’t put a finger on why and shoves it away for another time.

When she returns from her own short trip at nightfall, she moves along the borders until she’s able to catch the wolf’s scent. She’d noticed the familiarity from Gyda’s fur and it didn’t belong to the others so pinning him down would be easy. Where it crossed with another, she’d find the direction and move and she doesn’t give up until she finds him.

She’s able to lock on to his scent, making one final turn as she comes across a smaller wolf, barely more than a ball of fluff on the ground, Thuringwethil lifts a brow. He hadn’t gotten up in her approach and she feels the fur on the back of her neck bristle. It takes a little more effort to ease herself, giving the wolf a chance. He’d just gotten in from a long trek with Gyda—he deserves a rest.

“You came with Gyda?” she asks for confirmation, feeling a sudden gust of wind blow through her dark fur. Her companion hadn’t given her much information about the silent wolf she brought back and Thuringwethil’s eager to learn for herself what had been the spark. Able bodied, could provide, the easy things can be crossed off the list otherwise he wouldn’t be here before her.

He’s on his feet in a matter of seconds and Thuringwethil’s tension eases a few degrees. She’s given a quick answer, as well, and she’s able to allow herself to relax even more. Gyda wouldn’t have brought the wolf if he’d been a threat and in return, heda nods her own head. Grey eyes search his figure, unable to see the span of his neck for scars that might have been explanation preventing his speech. 

Questions linger on the tip of her tongue but all with answers already obvious or answered by Gyda earlier. She wants to ask them again, a compulsion to put the wolf through her own inspection since he doesn’t look like much. Thuringwethil stops herself, exhaling a long breath she’d been unaware of, and looks past the smaller canine.

“Do you have a name?” she asks, turning her attention back to him. It’s one thing Gyda had been unable to produce, whether or not she’d asked. She doesn’t expect much of an answer, or a way for him to tell her. She’s not the guessing game type. “Or I can give you one,” she offers. The wolf that can’t speak isn’t exactly how she’d like to refer to the canine.

It takes a few seconds but the wolf manages a mangled sound, over and over, and Thuringwethil listens closely. The common language of wolves is not her native tongue and while she does not struggle most the time, it takes several tries on the other’s behalf for her to finally hear the word. “Hush?” she questions, ears twitching forward on her head. It seems to be a fitting name; perhaps instead of a later injury, a birth defect not big enough to warrant his death. They could get along just fine without speech.

“Thuringwethil,” she introduces, though sure Gyda informed the new recruit of his new heda. The tail above her spine offers a slight twitch in an official greeting and her nose extends far enough to offer her chin for him to greet.

The wolf takes up the spot beneath her chin, gives her an easy lick, and returns to his spot in front of her. Thuringwethil nods her head, satisfied with the display. It reminds her more of home, in ways Eli and Snacha held themselves, but they know her and her power. She does not expect Hush to understand but that doesn’t mean he won’t, one day. In the wake of their new claim, the loyalty of her wolves will be tested.

“Welcome,” she tells him with a twitch of her own tail, still stiff in the arch above her spine. “I’m sure you will get to meet the others in due time,” she says, “I will bring everyone together soon.” As much as she would spread matters to the other wolves, rather finding them directly or a howl, they needed to see together all at once. They’d get used to each others faces and scents. 

Thuringwethil turns her head slightly, jerking in the direction she’d wish to move and the other to follow.

The smaller wolf falls in stride next to her and she casts a quick glance to her side to watch the briefest of moments. Her attention returns ahead of her as she follows a trail with she’s been making herself comfortable with. She’d worked quickly to memorize the layout of the territory, remembering easily where the best spots are and where they’d come together. A lethal ledge south east of the mountain--that after a few changes in direction—Thuringwethil brings Hush.

From where she stands, she can see the closest portion of the river Reek calls the Qeya. A tree to her left is barely hanging by the roots over the ledge that strong push might send barreling over. The stony ground beneath her feet give her a little security in where she stands that it’s not going to fall out from beneath her. After a moment of looking across the valley, she turns to her companion. “This is where we will meet,” she tells him, looking back for his reaction. It won’t be hard to find in the future, when either of them call the wolves together. 

“And that river, we do not hunt below it.”