The weather was beautiful and Gyda's mood was significantly brightened by the promise of what her future would hold for her soon. She made her rounds dutifully, pausing every so often to veer and check upon the pack's caches to see which ones were in need of meats and which ones were still full. So far the Gods had been kind to them, ensuring that they had enough food to eat plus extra to store in their caches for when the herds thinned; but if there was one thing that Gyda knew it was that the favor of her Gods could turn at any moment and that as the vikings that worshiped them they could be merciless and cruel. Thus, she made small sacrifices in their honor: rodents and avian. Small things that were easy for her to hunt on her own, though she intended to provide a much bigger sacrifice to Frigga and Freyja to ensure that she did not miscarriage and that her children would survive and live full and long lives.

A scent carried upon the wind: heavily of Thuringwethil but the bearer was that of the young flame colored girl: the one that the Grounder had called to the front during the war party. This cause a small, perhaps irrational bubble of jealousy to seethe beneath her skin, dampening her mood that which had been untouched until this moment; and yet Gyda could not help but think of Wildfire — at least that's what she thought her name was — as a child (but perhaps that was hormones?); and attempted to put such things out of her mind. After all, she didn't know and if left unchecked her assumptions could easily run rampant. She had to be around the same age as her younger siblings, for she did not appear to be old enough to be of Gyda's own generation.

Gyda altered her course and soon came upon her. Her posture was dominate though not overbearing as her icy eyes fixated upon the flame colored girl. “Hello,” Gyda broke the silence, studying her for a moment. Just because she smelled like Thuringwethil didn't mean anything, Gyda attempted to reassure herself. “You are Wildfire, correct?” The Viking Queen inquired with a soft smile and a cant of her head in unbidden curiosity.

Wildfire. Her name suited her Gyda could not help but think as she gave the girl a once over, though for the sake of not boring her to death with something the shield-maiden assumed she'd probably heard a billion times a billion and one times she refrained from stating the obvious. She responded to Gyda's question eagerly enough, even giving a wag of her tail and offered a cute little nickname that Gyda could call her in stead if she wished. “Wifi,” Gyda tested it out, noting that with it's simplicity it also had a nice little ring to it. “I am Gyda,” The Viking Queen introduced herself offering a small little smile before she added sheepishly, “as I'm sure you already know.” Still, it had only been right she introduce herself in return.

A small chuckle left the Scandinavian's lips as Wildfire blurted, a bit louder than the conversation called for, admittedly, that she wished to “acquaint herself with her new leadership” though it had sounded like less of a statement and more of a question to the Viking Queen. “Are you nervous?” It was an odd thing, Gyda considered, yet she asked it all the same, left only to her assumptions. It was the only logical conclusion that Gyda could come to, though she couldn't help the small afterthought that she would be embarrassed if that wasn't the case at all. Gyda simply assumed, after Storm had peed himself at her assertion of dominance over him, that perhaps she was more intimidating than she'd ever dared to give herself credit for.

Nevertheless, Gyda was determined to keep going whether the embarrassment was her own of her subordinates. “Well, perhaps we should get to know each other,” That seemed, to Gyda, the best way to acquit oneself with another wolf. “Where are you from? Where you born in these Wilds or from outside them?” Not that it made much difference either way but Gyda was curious.

Rather than off-putting Wildfire's nerves were endearing to Gyda, who offered the flame kissed girl a soft, encouraging smile. “There is no need to apologize,” Gyda assured her softly, not wanting Wildfir to be a nervous wreck in her presence. There was no need for it: Storm was one thing but Wildfire was neither an object of Gyda's ire nor was she a prisoner and thus Gyda hoped to assure her that there was nothing to be nervous around her for. Though, perhaps, she was more barbaric then other leaders of the many packs that not inhabited the Wilds Gyda did not think she was all that different than Thuringwethil. While they held their differences their cultures were, in the grand scheme of things, not actually fairly similar. An appreciative hum resounded within the contours of Gyda's elegant throat at Wildfire's smooth line and Gyda allowed herself to be flattered. “Is that so?” Gyda inquired, a flirtatious edge to her playful tone. Little did Gyda know the truth behind Wildfire's statement.

“I was born in Horizon Ridge and my family relocated to Stavanger Bay when my brothers and I were a few months old,” There was a slight, very Ragnar-esque cant to Gyda's head as she tilted it ever so slightly to the side, studying Wildfire for a moment. “I left with my father's preistess wife when she discovered she was pregnant and spent some time leading Odinn's Cove.” Because “leading” sounded much better than usurping and killing via the Vikings traditions to get her position of Viking Queen. "And I reunited with Thuringwethil on this very mountain and here we are." There was a soft laugh and a roll of her shoulders, but Gyda had believed all along it was Fate. Her life had already been decided for her, perhaps long before she'd even been a consideration in Thistle's mind.

While Gyda had taken note of Wildfire's deliberation she thought nothing of it aside from what Wildfire had already confirmed to her: nerves. It was easy, Gyda realized, for her to say that there was nothing to be nervous about — because in her mind there wasn't — but it was understandably probably a whole other thing to cease being. Gyda wasn't often nervous, but then again she'd never been shy or had any reason to be such. She was cunning and quiet at times but not shy and perhaps in the respect of her parents' upbringing she was not easily intimidated. After all, it was hard to find any appearance intimidating after seeing Ragnar's marred flesh and empty eye socket. He had looked monstrous the last time she'd seen him but she had loved him dearly even as they exchanged heated words of ire and arguments.

She was caught up in the bittersweet memory of her last encounter with Ragnar that Gyda almost missed the words that Wildfire spoke next. Gyda brought herself to focus upon the flame colored girl before her, her ears cupping forth as the question hung in the air between them, followed by the fact that Wildfire was somewhat familiar with the Bay. “Ragnar Loðbrók, his queen wife Thistle Cloud, and his priestess wife Nerian.” Nerian had been, perhaps awkwardly, more of a “sister” role than a mother role to Gyda, admittedly, for it was the shield-maiden that had taken care of and escorted the priestess to the safety of the Earl Sif of Freyja's Moor, but still the Viking Queen felt obligated to mention her.

“Peregrine,” Gyda repeated the name, knowing it well enough. “For a while his daughter...your sister, Junior was a guest at our home.” Gyda had never met Peregrine personally but she remembered Junior and that there had been talks of an alliance between the two packs despite Ragnar's inherent dislike of them. Shortly after, though, Nerian had discovered she was expecting and Gyda had set out with her so if the alliance had happened or not was left to the unknowns to the shield-maiden.

Wildfire didn't elaborate on what of Stavanger Bay she was familiar with and accordingly, Gyda didn't push, left to her assumptions that she'd probably heard the name and perhaps the name of Ragnar in passing. It wasn't her place to pry, anyway. Gyda had to remind herself often that not every one was as open as she tended to be towards her pack mates and thus she deigned to listen to what they were comfortable sharing with her and try to remember not to pry just to sate her curiosity. Wildfire seemed to have zeroed in on polygamy aspect of her parent's relationship(s) and as Wildfire visibly appeared to struggle for the right word Gyda couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her. She supposed to others who took only one mate it was a strange concept but Gyda had grown up with it and had found that in Odinn's Cove it wasn't truly as uncommon as she'd first thought.

Gyda remembered Thistle's reluctance, her mother had been angry with Ragnar for months after it and yet she'd agreed. For a while it had caused a strife between her and her siblings; though whether those petty rifts remained was unknown. It had been a very long time since Gyda had seen either of her brothers. “Polygamy?” Gyda offered her simply with an elegant rise and fall of her shoulders before she reclined back upon her haunches. “It is ...difficult. My father was of course, and Thistle was angry at first but I think she was beginning to love Nerian before we left. It didn't appear to be easy, but they made it work while Nerian remained.”

“I did not realize that it was common in my culture until I went to Odinn's Cove.” Gyda admitted softly. Stavanger Bay had been meant to be the Cove's sister but the truth was Ragnar had not enforced the culture and religion of his home upon his followers of the Bay and it had been a pale imitation to the real thing.

“It is a much more common practice in my father's culture then I realized. Thistle was his true love but I think he loved Nerian too,” Personally, the idea of loving more than one wolf at a time was something of an unusual concept to Gyda. She understood it was common, and understood how it might be possible, at least in theory. In practice ...she couldn't say she had that. For the longest of times the idea of settling down had felt like little more than a ball and chain to the shield-maiden whom wanted nothing more than to fight and to ear scars akin to Ragnar's own battle wounds. “but those things don't matter much these days.” They were in the past, and she did not wish to tarnish the memories of Ragnar she had with the most powerful and painful memories she carried like a burden upon her. Forgiveness was a slow thing for Gyda, and months later she struggled to forgive herself for arguing with him the last time she'd seen him alive.

Wildfire reclaimed her attention when she mentioned that she knew Gyda's brother. For the briefest of moments, the viking queen was tempted to ask her which brother, though there was a small furrow of puzzlement between her brows when the flame kissed girl mentioned Floki. Her thoughts, immediately, had went to Gunnar and Mercury — the brother's she'd grown up with, the ones she knew — and upon the instant moment the name Floki took Gyda to the trickster healer of Odinn's Cove as opposed to her faceless brother. She canted her head to the side and then it hit her and she breathed out a soft “Oh!” as the realization sunk in. “When I went to Moonspear to speak with my mother she spoke of them...Floki, Jorunn, Kaylan and Ragna, I think.” Three brothers and one sister, and while partially Gyda felt bad about not seeking them out individually she didn't linger upon that guilt for too long. “Yes, he's my brother although I have yet to meet him, or my other baby siblings.” Though, Gyda supposed baby wasn't the right term to apply to them anymore. They were probably around Wildfire's own age these days, if she had to guess.

“Ah, I see,” Gyda spoke when Wildfire admitted that she'd been romantically involved with Floki — the one that she hadn't met, Gyda found that she had to remind herself. There was a spark of curiosity as to what drove the two young lovers apart — literally to opposite sides of the Wilds at that — but Gyda didn't pry. She couldn't claim that it her either way, truly. She didn't know her younger siblings beyond their names and so she could not offer Wildfire anything other than to simply let it drop. Which, given by the girl's following statement, seemed like it was all that she wanted to do. “Whatever happened between you two is your business, and yours alone. It doesn't involve me.” Thus: she held no grudges, no suspicions. Ragna, Jorunn, Floki and Kaylan were not truly apart of her life other than names, which Gyda realized might all they would ever be to her: names. As she feared that any potential children she may have would be to her mother. Gyda hadn't ever wanted to be so disconnected from her family but in the very northern reaches of the Wilds she felt quite isolated from them. Besides, she wasn't so sure things were entirely patched with Thistle and with Ragnar gone ...she sometimes wondered if he'd been what held them together. Without their center they had just drifted away from one another.

“How was Thistle when you saw her last? Good?” Gyda inquired softly. It was an errant allowance to change the subject somewhat, but also her way of checking up on her mother as much as she could. The news would be old, Gyda realized, but surely Thistle had told someone of Gyda's return to the Wilds and that if something were to have happened someone would have tried to contact her by now.

The Thistle Cloud that Wildfire described to Gyda was not the Thistle that Gyda had known. Her mother had been cool and collected even when standing between Ragnar and whatever unfortunate fool had gotten upon the Viking's bad side. On the fringes had never been words anyone would have uttered about Thistle...before Ragnar's death, it seemed. Perhaps, Gyda realized, in the same way she was a stranger to her mother, her mother had become a stranger to her. For a moment, guilt twisted in Gyda's gut enough to cause a flash of pain across her expression before she composed herself. If she would not have been at Odinn's Cove playing the warrior queen that Ragnar's loyalists had wanted her to be...if she would have only escorted Nerian and returned home perhaps she could have been there, perhaps she could have saved Ragnar. Perhaps she could have saved her mother and aided in raising her siblings. It had become too easy to misconstrue what had happened — all out of Gyda's control — to be her fault. The short answer was: it wasn't. The Gods had decided their Fates long ago and there was nothing that could be done to change what they had already ordained. Gyda knew this, but she supposed her guilt and the what-if scenarios were only natural to feel and ponder.

“I wish you could have known her before,” Gyda whispered with a sad smile to Wildfire. “She was something fierce to behold, I suppose Ragnar's impact upon her life was too strong for her to move on from.” Something that in some ways Gyda understood well. “It is alright,” The Viking Queen spoke to assure the flame colored girl. “I had noticed that myself when I had ventured south to visit before Thurin and I founded Sleeping Dragon officially.” But there was little to be done about it.

“It is alright,” Gyda assured her with softened tones. “It happens to all of us.” Gyda wasn't insulted nor mad. She, too, was known for getting caught up in her thoughts. “You will never take up my time, Wildfire,” Gyda protested the flame kissed girl's words with a soft shake of her head, her ears slicking back to rest at half mast atop her skull. “If you ever wish to talk, about anything, you are always more than welcome to come find me.” She would always make time for her subordinates. Ragnar had when he had led Stavanger Bay, they had all been important to him, and thus Gyda strove to emulate that. It was never a bother for them to seek her out to talk. In fact, sometimes it. was a nice change from the every day routine she'd managed to put herself in. “No, I'm alright thank you.” Gyda spoke to Wildfire with a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I will see you later.” Gyda spoke before she turned and began to make her departure.