Thyri’s path takes her north of Fairspell Meadow into Otter Creek’s territory, skirting around the dark forest whose claim smells of urine, the pungent scent of blood and decay. She is most interested there: wondering what they feel so threatened of to have to make their borders such a gruesome display. In the thespain queen’s mind theatrics speak to her of overcompensation. She moves near enough to their borders so that she may scent them and once she has gleamed all the information that the borders can give her she gives it a wide berth heading towards the narrow, meandering creek that appears to have started from the towering spire to the right of her position. Adlers hang over the stream bed but most of them have dropped their leaves: they crunch under her paws and float lazily along the current of the creek. Ahead of Thyri, two river otters play with one another, but ultimately beyond acknowledging their presence she pays them no mind. They scurry off after the other and throw themselves into the creek as she approaches, closing the distance.

Thyri pauses when she comes across an Adler that still bears some of it’s leaves, enough to offer a small semblance of shade though the ground beneath it is still dusted lightly with snow and she slides beneath it to give herself a reprieve and a rest. The noon sun is high in the sky, warm against the fur on her back and she dips a paw in the cold water for a few seconds before she pulls it back, trying to figure out in which way she could travel next once she is clear of the creek. She has no real destination in mind ( not that she had the previous time, either ): she only knows her current goals and the end game she desires; but desires can only get her so far and will far short if she does not find a beginning, she knows. Still, Thyri cannot claim she is particularly worried. She will find her way.

Thyri’s ears perk and pivot atop her skull, alert, at the sound of heavy footfalls upon the snow dusted ground. Loftily, the sylph’s head tilts and she peers over an elegant shoulder to take in the titan as he chuffs to announce his presence to her. Younger than the last titan she’d laid eyes upon: this young man is made of earth set aflame: tall, muscular and physically powerful. Not unlike the older, reaper garbed titan she’d once called companion. A man she’d once envisioned by her side; but as many things that fantasy had ebbed and faded: as if carried away by a tide of time. Thyri drinks in his scent: recognizing the stench of the woodland pack she had recently. Perhaps the boy has followed her, or perhaps their meeting is a coincidence. Thyri supposes it does not truly matter. The warrior in her warns her that it is not wise to have her back exposed to him: but he’s had his chance if he meant her harm. She assessed him with a quick sweep of her eye. “Yes?” The thespain queen inquires in a soft hum, expectant of a response.

Thyri watches as the flame kissed boy offers her a smirk that proceeds his response, that which in and of itself is simple enough. He has seen her passing, his tone taking on a draw of the sounds of the words that spill from betwixt his lips, mirroring her own hum. Wanted to see who you were, he speaks next. Thyri’s salmon pink tongue draws across her jowls as she pushes herself to her paws, takes a last drink from the creek before she turns to face the boy in full. He’s much larger than her — though she had known as much even before she stood — he’d be good breeding stock, she thinks critically, as she eyes him again this time with careful consideration. He appears to be too young yet ( though admittedly it’s hard for her to tell for he certainly looks like an adult ) and beyond that she’s still very much at square one in her plans and thus it’s far too early she start considering consorts and children. Still …he’d make a fine consort in her opinion. “I am Thyri,” She introduces herself with a beguiling smile, taking a brazen step closer in the hopes of being allowed to take in his scent from up close. “Who might you be?” The thespian queen purls at him in return.