Duskfire Glacier let me give you my life

Despite the foray in to the unknown beyond the glacier, Njal insisted that they double back, and the trio rested among the rocks for a solid eight hours. When the dawn came, the Sveijarn was already awake, already pacing in anticipation for their departure; but he had not roused them. The two wolves of Tartok were devoted creatures and he wanted them in perfect form in case the situation came to blows — something Njal was almost certain would occur, so great was his worry. Aside from being a bit hungry, the three of them were indeed fit and ready to move. So when the first dark figure approached him, he knew it was time. They knew, likely by the great rut he had worn in the permafrost around their camp, and before the clouds could part long enough for the morning light to break through, they were marching.

They could have gone around the peak to where he had stared at the stars, found a back way in, and simply sought out Tuwawi on her own; they could have charged in with the intent to drive out any who opposed; however, it was Njal's decision that they approach from the well-used western trails. The glacier was a fortress that was well guarded (or so he assumed) and the patriarch was not interested in scaring anyone, nor in driving them out if the wolves were loyal. He had no knowledge of the latest events in the glacier despite lurking in its shadows, and perhaps if the beast had known he would have delayed further. But there would be no waiting - nor any warning, as the silver man streaked through the trees alongside the twin shadows.

The land's borders were marked heavily. Njal did not stop to inspect the claim and he cast a quick look to Tonravik to urge her forwards, in case she wished to linger. As the forest gave way to the familiar field of lupines, Njal's pace slowed, and he halted while waves of tiny buds drifted beside him in the breeze, uaffected by the arrival of the ex-Alpha and the two comrades. The scent of the flowers would mask their own for a time, but Njal did not think he could hide there for long — if at all. He gave one last look to the beasts at his flank, and then swept his gaze forward, awaiting the inevitable discovery.

In the mere moments after he looked past her, hackles bristling as the two ebony intruders came into his view, though it was the sight of Njal, unmistakable, that kept him from barging at them like a force of nature. In an instant he was hit with trepidation, unsure of Njal's intentions — disappearing and then suddenly appearing with two unknown women, sneaking into the Glacier. He was weary, naturally, and anxious without Tuwawi's presence. He did not wish to bring her ire down upon himself by attacking Njal and his ...friends, but he did not know how the ember Queen would take this. Would she welcome Njal and these strangers with welcome arms? ...Njal was back; and selfishly Týrr felt his heart drop in his chest in immediate recognition as to what it signified. Surely, Tuwawi would accept her mate back and they would be the happy, leading couple they'd once been, and Týrr felt sure they would build on the Sveijarn family. ...Wouldn't they? Which would mean that his intentions of, should Tuwawi have allowed it, of course, attempting to court the ember Queen were demolished and crushed to dust. If he'd ever had any small sliver of a chance at all, Týrr couldn't help but feel, given his assumptions, that it was gone.

You should have stayed away, Týrr wanted to snarl at Njal in his disappointment and irritation, but of course, kept it locked tightly inside. Even though he was momentarily left with nothing but his own assumptions, he could not deny that something did not feel right about this. ”Njal? What is this? Who are they?” Týrr inquired of the Northerner, ghosting further than his comrade had stopped, sparing her a quick glance; but he did not fear these wolves. He would not do anything until Tuwawi gave him a command, but for now he could at least try to figure out what was going on. As a Warden initiate it was apart of the expected job from the Wardens. Recognition set in as his crystalline gaze swept over each female in turn, and felt his brow furrow as it slowly sunk in deeper. “Wait...I know you,” He spoke to Echelon, shoulders tense as his ears slicked back to rest at half mast atop his skull. “Iqsi, right?” Uncertainly had settled into the Gamma's stomach like steel hard ice that had nothing to do with the crushing feeling in his chest (for finally realizing that Tuwawi was out of his league, haha) but for now he played the interceptor and diplomat, attempting to gain what information he could and hold the fort until Tuwawi, whom he hoped would appear soon, came upon the scene.

They were being watched. By who, he could not know. But it did not matter who, not really. Njal stood with the two shadows at his flank, essentially sandwiched between them, and he waited. They all had to wait, for he would not lead them further in to the lands - this far was likely too far already. So they stood together, until a familiar face appeared; a familiar voice, although distant in its relation within Njal's mind. He recognized the boy after a moment, as he had not seen Tyrr in quite a long time. The boy was... More like a man now. Tall and sturdy, strong like any other northerner. Perhaps on another day Njal would have been happy to seem him - proud, even, despite being unrelated. But Tyrr held questions upon his tongue, questions which Njal would answer, in time. He remained silent - turning a glance at Iqsi when she was addressed, and raising a brow, but otherwise remaining passing.

And then there were three. She came bursting through the foliage with such force, such anger and hostility, that Njal was a little surprised. He settled his golden gaze upon her carefully - looking to her gaunt face, to the emotions as they positively boiled within her, and inevitably resting upon the collar. Njal's ears folded back, and he closed his eyes to the flashing teeth, but gathered his wits and stepped forward - hoping the two wolves of Tartok would stay calm in the face of the fire. They had expected this (or rather, he had expected this, and warned them as best he could). Tuwawi was within her rights to be expressing herself in this way, and he would let her. But the same questions fell from her snarling maw, to which Njal could not remain silent.

Waiting would be a bad idea; Tuwawi was ignited now, filled with a building fury, so he cut to the chase.

I've.. Come home. He started, but then found himself pausing with doubt; then, steeling himself, he continued. Although I realize there may be no place for me here. I have also brought reinforcements. Allies. He did not turn towards either Tonravik or Echelon, nor did he motion at them; somehow, Njal felt that if he turned his attention away from his wife, everything would fall to pieces. I have come to apologize, Tuwawi. As her name fell from his lips he found himself finally breaking eye-contact with her silhouette, his head dropping low with regret, pity, and a semblance of submission. No more words came from the ruined man, and as the scene fell to silence, he felt the pounding of his heart in his ears.

For a small moment Týrr found himself lost in his admiration for her, for commanding the scene, for moving like beautiful and undeniably deadly wildfire. To Tuwawi, Njal, though it came as no real surprise to the Rekkr, responded, explaining that he'd came home. Though this was not surprising, really, it still cut him like a knife though Tuwawi had yet to accept or deny his presence here. This is what you get foolish boy, His innermost thoughts had taken on the scolding voice of not Ragnar but his partner in crime, Floki. Harsh, and cruel in their jeer as he mocked him over and over. Don't you know better by now? Jeering. Mocking. Digging the knife in deeper. Apparently not, because he kept developing crushes on females way out of his league, or that were already taken. It was a startling trend that he could not seem to break.

For a moment full of agonizing trepidation had Týrr caught between his fight or flight instincts. He dithered on if he should stay or if he should go. On one hand leaving would look bad and on the other he didn't really want to see Tuwawi and Njal have some sappy reunion, or re-establish their relationship right in front of him, either. And it wasn't either of their faults, really, but instead his own. Yet, despite his better judgment, Týrr did not budge. He was loyal to Tuwawi to his core, and he would not leave her. If he was man enough to develop such useless things as crushes, he was man enough to suffer through the disappointment they always brought with them; and this moment was bigger than his own petty problems, anyway. Favoring silence, for now, the Rekkr simply shifted his weight beside his Ember Queen, eyes focused on the three trespassers before them.

He hadn't told Fox about his crush on her and though he didn't regret it now, he did not, exactly, want to live with regrets for at one point the Rekkr had regretted it; but he didn't know now. There would be time, later to think more upon the paths that had laid themselves out before him.

His heart stuttered in it's beats when Tuwawi cried for Njal to let go of her, unsure in how he should take it but knowing that she didn't want Njal to touch her. A low noise was given, as he stepped forward, a ghost of a movement, body tense once more as he prepared to step between the wayward lovers should Njal have pressed the issue, though it was the outspoken ebony female that claimed his attention as her and Tuwawi verbally sparred once more, ears slicking back as a soft snarl erupted from his muzzle, wrinkled back from his exposed teeth as the ebony woman dared to hold herself at a dominate position before Tuwawi. It was a challenge and he would not see his Queen dethroned from her own home. His own tail rose, insinuating that he did not acknowledge the ebony's female dominance display, that the only creature he would bow to was the woman whose side he had chosen to stand by, knowing all along that it might have been nothing more than a risk. Still, a risk he was willing to take.

Would he have held any power he would have spat at the three of them to get out but this was not his call and so he waited, albeit with baited breath and anticipation that had adrenaline pulsing through his veins.