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+--- Thread: Sleeping Dragon light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun (/showthread.php?tid=16710)
light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun - Antumbra - July 17, 2016
As the day goes on, and spending a little time with the baby dragons earlier, Thuringwethil sets to put her skills to the borders. It is likely a few more days before Wildfire and Gavriel return but each passing day gives her concern. Anything could have happened between them leaving and getting to their destination and Thuringwethil wouldn’t know for some time. She tries her best to shove the thoughts away and focus on what she can control and so her attention returns back to their security.
She spends more time between the ridge and the hollows and some to the north where they are potentially exposed to the grotto. It has been some time since she’d been informed of what happened and no signs of them since, thankfully, and the similar repeat of history would cause less damage this time. Nonetheless, their security will not change for some, until she knows the grotto is no longer an issue.
Thuringwethil brushes her shoulder against a tree the lines her claim and occasionally she’ll relieve herself to mark, but the strength of the border now has improved and there’s no question left who belongs here.
RE: light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun - Toxochelys - July 17, 2016
It hadn’t taken any time for Toxochelys to become possessive of his home and those who lived there. The trained guardian was not yet Gona, but he stalked Sleeping Dragon’s furthest reaches as though he was. There was little that could have stopped him from tearing the head off the little red priest had the capable Gavriel been threatened in the least, for instance.
Although he didn’t exactly neglect other sectors of their borders, it was natural for him to gravitate towards their more uncertain front that faced the Grotto and its misled wolves. While he was almost entirely confident that recent events had been born from simple miscommunication and disorganization on the part of Larksong’s leader, he was inclined to deter them in every way he possibly could. His efforts began with their own territory — the more evidence of foot traffic the dragons could leave behind on the well-kept borders as a collective whole, the better.
The yet-unproven young male sensed Thuringwethil just as he was making his way around a gentle incline. He aimed his course to intersect with hers as he sauntered his serpentine way through the trees and sidled up beside her with a candid nudge to her dark muzzle. "See anything interesting?" he asked as he readily scoped the area for himself.
RE: light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun - Antumbra - July 18, 2016
She isn’t left alone for much longer as Toxochelys comes up to her side, touching the side of her muzzle. Thuringwethil tilts her nose upward just slightly and squares her shoulders in the presence of one of her subordinates, but there’s a softness still since the male already has a history with the Heda. She turns to look him over, knowing he’d been apart of the crew to deal with the grotto wolf and taking his role in Sleeping Dragon seriously. It won’t be long before he officially integrates into Dragedakru.
“No. It’s been quiet,” she tells him—there’s been no hint at a grotto wolf nearby, at least as far as she can tell. “Hopefully the wolf got the message across to the others.”
Thuringwethil hums quietly to herself as she considers the situation, nearly mimicking the problems with Phoenix Maplewood. With Reek still in power nearby, she knows she’ll never have peace, but does she want to take her wolves to war again? They’re all recovering from the famine and resettling their roots into Drageda that, for now, she’s willing to give the idiotic leader a pass.
“It’s unfortunately not the first time this has happened. That one of his wolves made an oblivious mistake because he didn’t tell them,” she says then, looking ahead of her so she doesn’t trip over her own feet. “He’s betrayed me once. He’s know what we’re capable of, but he doesn’t learn.”
With one mistake after another, Thuringwethil’s certain Reek’s fate is not long for this world—whether but some fuck up against her or another is still to be determined.
RE: light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun - Portia - July 19, 2016
The girl is off and about plant gathering, yanking up precious greenery and stowing them away in her den. It is after a trip back to her den that she hears the voices of her Heda and someone whom she'd not met yet, and her ears perk with interest. Abandoning her interior decorating, Portia pads off towards the sounds of her packmates, hoping to meet someone new.
She comes across the two-- Heda's companion being a dashing young male-- and let's out a low chuff of greeting. Her posture is respectful, but her tail wags hopefully behind her. "Wonderful day," she barks.
She comes across the two-- Heda's companion being a dashing young male-- and let's out a low chuff of greeting. Her posture is respectful, but her tail wags hopefully behind her. "Wonderful day," she barks.
RE: light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun - Toxochelys - August 14, 2016
The tawny sea-beast splayed his ears invitingly when the Commander tipped her nose, swaying his tail once before letting it rest at his hocks. There had been nothing quiet about his integration with Drageda thus far, but the familiarity of the dark Heda offered a sense of uncomplicated calm that put him at an advantage as far as he was concerned. Everything about his demeanor and general presence conveyed uninhibited openness in return.
"We’ll see," he replied somewhat dubiously, recalling how resolute the priest had seemed in the split second after claiming Reek — or Hiram — now followed "the Daystar". He wondered just how unshakable the Grotto leader really was in his beliefs, and subsequently wondered who had managed to brainwash him. It occurred to him that this second party was likely the real threat, and he began to contrive a wily way to securing such interesting information.
He raised an eyebrow and twitched his lips into the slightest of reassuring smiles. "Every creature learns eventually, or else it dies," he added with confidence. As a warrior, Toxochelys found it difficult to worry about things he could not control. He would simply be as ready for the next transgression as he would be for others from all sides.
Just then, one ear flicked to falling footsteps, noticing that they were being joined by a very small and patchy female with brilliant green eyes. He quickly sized her up, considered how she might fit into Drageda, then tilted his head at her when she commented on the day. "Oh, is it?" he asked cheekily. Environmental conditions were useful to him in terms of tactics, but little else. Still, there was a glimmer of jest that remained gleaming in his arresting orange eyes as he watched her.
RE: light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun - Antumbra - August 23, 2016
Thuringwethil hums quietly to herself as Toxochelys speaks his own form of wisdom. Little has changed in Reek's development, from her perspective, and she's certain if change doesn't occur, it'll be the death of the male. He knows the mistakes he's made, what they are capable of doing, and yet he remains as foolish and oblivious as day one. The question being, however, how many chances will Heda allow him to have?
Her head swings around as someone new approaches and she regards Portia for a moment, her companion speaking first. Thuringwethil nods her head at the suggestion as she shifts her gaze between the two. "Toxochelys," she indicates, and for the other: "Portia."
Instead of recapping what they'd been talking about, Heda falls silent to first see if the woman has something specific for her approach.
RE: light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun - Portia - August 23, 2016
"Mm," Portia replies to the man with a slight tip of her crown, smiling sweetly at him. Thuringwethil speaks his name, and then her own, and she bows again to him. "A pleasure," she says. Although she does not yet sit, her posture indicates her wish to stay and converse-- to learn. "I apologize for any intrusion, ma'am," she then says, her attention directed at her Heda. "I'm just trying to become acquainted with everyone in the pack... did I hear mention of a another pack?" she then asks, hopeful to learn about whatever neighbors they had-- and about whoever may have betrayed them. She waits patiently to be accepted into into conversation or forced out, her posture respectfully positioned.
RE: light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun - Antumbra - September 05, 2016
Once the introductions are over, Portia explains her purpose and Thuringwethil nods her head a little. She considers where to take the conversation from there but it isn’t long before the other woman is asking about what she’d mention a moment ago and, again, she nods. While Portia’s skills hasn’t been presented in much of fighting or dealings with their neighbors, it doesn’t stop Thuringwethil from informing the woman of what she knows about their neighbors and how to deal with them before going about their business.