In her sleep, Eske's paws twitched, a low growl rumbling in her chest as her lips curled back followed by a loud huff. She would dream of battle. And of victory. Her victory. It was just as the sweet taste of the illusioned victory had came to her that the soft whuff shattered her dream and Eske was awaken suddenly. She gasped in a breath, hopping to her paws before she was truly awake, blinking rapidly in the dark confines of the den, for a second unaware of where she was. It was not until consciousness began to dawn on her did she recognize Heda's familiar form. It was a ...surprise to see her, the Goufa thought. She'd been spending much time with her two siblings lately, and though Eske was far too proud to admit it she felt left out. Jealous, even. Which only proved to nurture her natural aggression towards the two spotlight stealers. Gyda, though, had been teaching her things in the meantime. Her mother's ways were not those of the Grounders but her mother was more than a formidable warrior and Eske respected it even if she could not understand the Viking's way. She was the Grounder Princess, not a Viking but again, would never admit that aloud to Gyda, though this was mostly to avoid hurting her mother's feelings. The concept of Gods and their roles went over the girl's head. She struggled to believe in something she had no proof of.

“Emo nou hir, Heda.” Eske informed her, unable to entirely keep the scoff out of her voice. She didn't mean to be disrespectful, especially not to Heda of whom there was no one Eske respected more; but she assumed she had came for her siblings as to which had seemed to have left her sleep to go about their day. Which was good. She was always particularly grumpy when they woke her up.

Eske didn't bother to explain who she meant despite that Thuringwethil had asked her. The favorites weren't present. Yet, even when it appeared that realization had dawned on Heda whom Eske had meant the older woman did not budge. Eske considered repeating herself before she remembered (in the nick of time!) that Thuringwethil was her Heda and she could not talk to her as she would Gyda. In Eske's desperate attempt to assert herself, to prove that she was better than her siblings it made her extremely rebellious and sassy af disobedient. To her obedience was a way to keep her complacent, quiet — neither of which she swore she would be. She the Grounder Princess and the only word that could command her was Heda's. “Hakom?” Eske asked Heda softly, her gaze imploring as she studied her not yet ready to believe that what Thuringwethil spoke was truth despite that she had no reason not to believe it besides her own incorrigible stubbornness.

The brief flash of teeth accompanied by Heda's growl is enough to whip Eske into shape. Right. This wasn't Gyda. This was Heda. “ait, ait,” Eske said quickly, repetitive to pacify the commander. An expression of understanding, submission and just a smidgen of defeat. Eske lifted herself to her paws, giving her coat a shake before she padded after Heda, gaze focused on the commander as they walked. “weron say'en?” Eske asked, unable to stifle her curiosity.

Eske strove to keep up with Heda, her growing legs making it easier than it would have been a month ago. She was growing, rapidly, but she barely noticed that she had begun to grow into her adult body. She knew that she is not a small child. She wass aware of it enough to know that much. She did not realize that she would soon be as tall as her small mother and that, someday soon she would surpass her in height. A sage nod was given though if Thuringwethil saw it or not, Eske could not say. “sha, Heda.” Eske murmured when she was informed that she was to strengthen any weakened spots she found. It was easy enough. Eske itched for real border action ...but she knew that time would come. One day she would join her parents in the rank of Gona, and then she would surpass them because her ambitions did not stop there. She bowed her head towards the borders to give it a sniff, scratching her paw pad against the earth for a moment before she looked to Thuringwethil.

Eske's ears flicked in Heda's direction as her commander breaks the silence that had settled between the two of them as they walked the patrol route. Eske's gaze slid to seek Thuringwethil out of the corner of her eye before it settled to the territory outside of their borders, silently daring any one of the shadows to be something more. Yet, they remained simple shadows, as if to emphasis Heda's words. Eske hated to admit it but ...this was kind of boring. She very much understood the necessity of it and as it was apart of her goal to become a Mercenary she would do it, dutifully, waiting for the day she got to lay tooth and claw into someone who dared to test her. Training, on the other paw, wasn't nearly so bad. At least she was getting to exercise her natural aggression in a “healthy manner”. “It is...quiet,” Eske said slowly. Whether that was a good thing or not she had yet to deduce. “Do you ever patrol outside of Drageda's territory?” As she had with the den she'd begun to feel caged. She wasn't yet allowed to leave the territory (not that it would stop her, in truth) and she yearned to explore what lay beyond. “What happens if a loner does not obey the Gona that greets them?” She supposed if she was going to be spending a lot of time on these borders scratching and urinating on them she should at least know the protocol for what happened when action did come knocking on their doorstep.

“Hmm,” Eske hummed in contemplation as she took in Thuringwethil's words. It made sense, and keeping to patrols inside their borders did not stretch the Gona's too far. To stretch their forces thin, which she surmised might be an issue with taking to patrols outside the borders would leave them exposed. It made sense and thus Eske let the idea drop. Heda ushered her along until they came to a corpse. It was once a wolf, according to Thuringwethil. The sight of the rotting corpse did not perturb Eske in the slightest. It was not her first corpse and she was not a squeamish child. She was a warrior, born of warrior blood. She would see a lot of corpses like this one in her life. “Woah,” Eske breathed, astonished. “Can I get marked too? When I kill, I mean?” She wanted to wear the marks that proved she was a warrior just like Heda did! She didn't get much time to investigate the corpse as Thuringwethil had ushered her forward once more and back onto task. “Was it hard? The fight, I mean? Were you ever afraid you would lose?”

Eske is young and aggressive by nature, and does not realize how unsettling her desire to kill comes across as to her superiors and elders. She only wants to prove herself. She only wants to fit in and be recognized for the one thing she was good at: battle. Her soul is some odd mixture of valkyrie and amazon warrior. There is little doubt that if she was ever faced with the situation where she would have to kill there wouldn't be much hesitation. Eske was not a bleeding heart and she would not have mercy on her enemies, that much was clear. “I'm not gonna go around killing wolves,” She scoffed with a roll of her eyes. She wasn't a psychopath though she bit the bottom of her lip wondering if her eagerness to see battle (and to be marked) perhaps gave the wrong idea. As Heda speaks to her Eske chews on the inside of her cheek in careful contemplation. To be afraid was to lose. I am not afraid Eske thinks. It made sense in a way, she thought. At the very least she could hold the knowledge that fear = defeat. “Mother speaks of a Valhalla. It is her belief that only the bravest and greatest of warriors are handpicked by these women called Valkyries to join their Odin and his army when they die. Odin is like their big bad.” In lieu of remaining respectful to her mother's culture even though Eske found it all a bit far-fetched and hard to believe she didn't add the i guess at the end like she had wanted to. Yet, she felt the need to add that Odin was more or less the King of the Norse (in case Heda didn't know) — at least this was what she had gathered from Gyda's tales. If nothing else her mother's tales made good bed time stories for her.