Dragoncrest Cliffs Oh how the moon glows

@Dio and @Eske

As the sea fell away and the daunting cliffs came into view, Cecil couldn't help but wonder if he had made it. Gyda and Gavriel had told him how to get here before they had left for Sangeda, he had commited the route to memory. His parent's had been proud of his discision to return to the Commander's side and restablish the family name as advisors to Heda. Although Cecil wasn't sure how difficult such a task might be, he was ready for the challenge to prove himself to Thuringwethil. His admiration for her hadn't dwindled in the last two years, since the disolution of Seageda. When Gavriel was recounting the stories of how Heda had founded Drageda, and became a prominent figure within the Teekon Wilds Cecil knew his place was at her side.

As he approached the borderd however he paused. Cecil was a warrior, he knew of the laws within Trigeda better then most. He was keenly aware of what might happen to him should he tresspass. Even if he didn't think he was trespassing, if the Commander stayed true to her roots Cecil could be in a world of hurt. Deciding that it would be better to play it safe, and remain respectful of the new lands under Heda's command. The large ebony male lifted his head to the sky and called to the wolves of Drageda. He was home. If only the Commander would accept him.

Eske is nearby when the howl rises up. The Fleimkepa wastes no time minimizing the distance between where the stranger’s call has risen and where she has been; her pace only slowing as she approaches the scene. A quick scan of the stretch of borders tell her that she has beaten Dio here though the Drakru wonders if perhaps that is a good thing. She cannot remember the last time she has actually held a conversation with the Wocha ( if ever ) and Shalon’s questioning from the other day — of why Heda chose her and not the pre-established leader — has offered Eske a new perceptive ( and potentially a new thing to worry over ). For the moment, she turns her thoughts from it as her sea blue-green gaze takes in the ebony male whom awaits at the borders. Her tail curls over her back to signify that she is command here; but interestingly she is absent hostility and aggression — her usual go-to’s when greeting strangers at the border. Her posture is meant to express her authority, of course, but it is absent the taunt muscles of a trigger happy soldier. She can see the difference in herself, the change that being promoted to Fleimkepa …acting in Heda’s stead has already instilled within her regardless of how temporary the position is. Will she remain so level headed when the Commander is better? Or will her aggression and hostility come right back and everything leave off just as she had left it? She doesn’t know. She can’t say.

“monin splita,” Eske greets him in her native tongue, chin lifting as she speaks the words. “Hail stranger,” She then offers in the common tongue. It is not exactly a perfect translation, she thinks, but close enough. Regardless, it is a neutral greeting. “This is Drageda and I am Eske Kom Drakru, it’s acting Fleimkepa. Who are you and why have you come?” Asked as not an accusation but as an invitation to divulge in his own greeting and following explanation.

It didn't take long, nor did Cecil believe that it would. However he was surprised by the young spirit that came to greet him. A small part of him had hoped that perhaps the Commander might greet him. Alas it was not to be, she was a busy leader after all. He found that this gave him a better understanding of the pack of Drageda, as it were. To have such a young Fleimkepa meant this kru must be strong and thriving. The obsidian male was still surprised at her youth, he yet to meet a Fleimkepa as young as she.

Cecil lowered his head, respectful of the woman and the strength her title deserved. "Ai laik Cecil." He let the words sink in before continuing in the common tounge, "It is a pleasure to meet you Fleimkepa Eske. You're parents would be proud of your accomplishment." He could see the resemblance between Gavriel and his daughter, and was glad to have listened to everything the pair had told him. "I have come to stand by Heda, as my family had once done for centuries in Seageda." He wasn't sure what reaction he awaited, all he knew was that he wasn't leaving until he had seen Heda.

There is a narrow of her eyes, a flare of her black, leathery nostrils when he ( Cecil she reminds herself that is what he called himself ) speaks that her parents would be proud of her. As if he knew them. There is that hostility, the slight tense of her shoulders in surprise. She has not said whom her parents are and there is very little to tie her to Gavriel and Gyda …unless they spoke of her by name. Which, she thinks, is possible — just because it is something she does not consider them ever doing does not mean that Sangeda is not aware of who she is and would recognize her on name alone. Still, it unsettles her for a brief moment. “You come from Sangeda?” The words are less of a question and more of an assessment than they are anything else. Eske rather thinks they wouldn’t, that the praise is unnecessary …it’s not as if she’s done anything to earn it: she was only promoted to act in Heda’s stead while she recovers. The Commander falling severely ill was a fluke, not meant to happen. She wishes to correct him: to tell him that her position as Fleimkepa is temporary but holds her tongue. She has not yet ascertained enough of who he is to trust him with the knowledge that Heda is too ill to tend to her duties as Commander.

“I am sure Heda will be pleased to hear it,” Eske murmurs, lifting her chin a inch as she assesses him once more with calculating eyes. Cecil is not the first to migrate and idly Eske wonders if he will stay as few have or leave to go back to his own nation as most others have. “What skills do you bring with you to Drageda?” The fleimkepa asks him; knowing that his acceptance fell upon her shoulders to decide. He spoke of Seageda and knows her parents …that is enough to convince her that he is from the coalition; but still she leaves him hanging a bit longer in the interest of learning what strengths he can provide Drageda with.

Cecil was slightly nervous at the glare directed his way, perhaps not the best choice of words. "I am sorry perhaps I should have explained better before just blurting that out." He smiled easily before trying to give her a better explanation, "I am not actually from Sangeda, although I do regret not travelling with your parents, I greatly admire them. I am from Seageda just as our Heda Thuringwethil is, although instead of following her here to Drageda I had a duty to my family on their trek to Trigeda." He did his best to explain, in hopes that maybe she wouldn't find him so creepy. "It was in Trigeda that I met you parents, and well how to get here." He grin almost sheepishly, he felt like such an idiot, what was wrong with him! Cecil almost shook his head at his own idiocy, why won't my brain work?

He gave a little huff, and looked away from the Fleimkepa before him trying to regroup. Her query, however, provided him the chance to try and redeem himself. "I am a warrior at heart, Fleimkepa. I have been trained since a pup, I have recently begun my training as a scout as well. Considering the time of peace we now endure, warriors aren't in such high demand." He cleared his throat, hoping the answer satisfactory.

She dismisses his apology with a wave of her tail in a no harm, no foul manner. It had alarmed her to be known as Gyda and Gavriel’s daughter without her saying it was all. Almost as if Eske believed they’d forgotten about her. Each time a wolf comes to Drageda that has travelled through Sangeda or stopped there along the way they brought back knowledge of Gyda and Gavriel: new things about them that Eske wouldn’t hear otherwise. Cecil didn’t exactly bring news per say but he assured her that they are doing well and Sangeda goes strong even without saying much of anything. “Warriors are always welcome in Drageda,” She gives a slight pause and thinks that now is a good time to divulge in the details ( as she has every intention of accepting him ). “I serve as Heda’s Cheka under normal circumstances, though I am hoping to become Wanlida soon,” Eske begins, salmon pink tongue darting across her jowls. “I am Fleimkepa temporarily to serve in her stead while the Commander recovers from a severe illness that is plaguing her.” Eske explains: laying it out before Cecil. “I would like a spar with you, when she is recovered and things return to where they are supposed to be.” Eske could never stay Fleimkepa: she doesn’t have the qualifications for it and has little interest in switching her coveted trade. She enjoys being a warrior too much to give it up. “A man named Dio is our Wocha.”

“Come on, I’ll give you a tour.” She offers with a elegant gesture of her muzzle, inviting him in so she might mix her scent with hers and show him around.

Ears shifted and perched as he listened to the "temporary" Fleimkepa, it made no difference to him at the present moment, except for the fact that Heda Thuringwethil was ill. A scowl formed on his brow as he considered this predicament. Perhaps he should have brought Gyda with him, to insure Heda's safety. Although thinking of it was a perposturious idea, considering she was in Sangeda, and there was no reason he would have known when he first started his venture. "I see." Was all Cecil could think to say, and considering Eske seemed relaxed, he could only assume that she was predicted to make a full recovery.

"Of course, Fleimkepa, I look forward to the opportunity to prove myself to you, the Wocha, and of course Heda. When she is recovered, I will seek you out." Having been away from his brothers and sisters in arms for so long Cecil was looking for a good training session. And he was glad to find the same warrior culture in Eske.

The ebony male followed with the nod of his head and a gentle smile, "Lead the way Fleimkepa." He was glad to have avoided a misunderstanding. Looking over at the female beside him, Cecil was glad to have arrived at Drageda, his new home. And was looking forward to meeting everyone and getting to know his new packmates. Especially the green eyed Fleimkepa that walked alongside him. It was shaping up to be an interesting journey indeed.

i just went ahead and wrote a conclusion post & archived this b/c it seemed like a good place to end it. i hope that's ok! c:

The truth was: Eske wasn’t sure how severely ill the Commander was or if she would recover at all. The Fleimkepa believes that she will because to believe anything else was beyond imagining but Eske is no healer and such a thing is not something she can determine. She knows what death looks like: the flicker of defiant life before it snuffs out entirely but that is when it is inventible and far too late. “Good.” His words of looking forward to pleasing them please her in turn. “I’ll hold you to that.” She almost wants to ask him for a spar right then and there. She is restless for one: the familiar agitation stirring in her muscles, in her bones. Even a friendly spar runs too much of a risk of taking an injury and she cannot afford to be down while the Commander is relying on her to run Drageda so she can recover without worry.

Eske gives him the tour of Drageda, being sure to point out caches and other important need-to-know’s along the journey before at it's end she parts way from the newest Kru to seek out Portia and request her usual run-down of how Thuringwethil was doing and if there was any sign yet of recovery.