Moonspear oathkeeper

@Andraste @Atlas @Osiris @Vega @Antares and dated prior to her injury. First bit backdated before her arrival! no snow @ location and meant to be in the lower portion of msp~~ heh [@Dirge welcome naturally]

Days before the woman's arrival, Hydra gathered her children to her. She told them, we will be receiving a visitor soon. I want to teach you of how to spot weakness in others, she hummed to them. Some tells are evident; I will show you how to see them. Some are not. Sometimes, these weaknesses are not what they seem. A wolf can learn what their own shortcomings are, and expect for you to seek them first, she informed, ears leaning forward. There is much for you to learn, children, and this wolf does not look to be a skilled fighter herself—though perhaps we will find that her own looks are deceiving, she left the answer to that a cliff-hanger, a small grin forming upon her lips.

---

Aurewen had arrived, and this was the day Hydra led four curious cubs in tow. Her strides accomodated their own, and she guided them as they needed. She picked a path that was easy enough for them to traverse, but intentionally had only the most minor of obstacles. Hydra wondered if Atlas recalled to look where to step; she pondered if the others had listened that day, as they ought to of, or if they would learn to look where they stepped later than she... although was sure she had said it more than once.

Hydra stopped only when she arrived to the sprawling meadow nestled in the lower reach of Moonspear, none too far from the rendezvous sight. In the distance was the dull roar of the falls they harbored, and Hydra shook out her furs and stretched. They were early, and Hydra waited for any signs of the she-wolfs approach.

Atlas trails after Hydra, not paying much attention to anything else. How could he with mom's succinct words? Even so, he does not trip or stumble like he used to, stepping around precarious stretches. There's hope for him yet, it seems.

But enough of that. What's with all this talk of spotting weakness? Sounds...vicious. Atlas is all about that. Maybe he'll even get to sink his teeth into this guest. Hehe!

Into the verdant pasture, they go. The rushing and crashing of water can be heard from here. That's where Atlas sets his sight, taken in by the grandness of it, and its scale. Mystified by the cloudlike droplets undulating up and away from the plunge pool, the boy wordlessly takes a seat. Quite the spectacle. This meadow, too, is something to ogle but grander landmarks deserve it more.

Vega wasn't especially interested in meeting the visitor, but she, of course, did not protest when Hydra collected the children and instructed them to follow her. She would see what this stranger had to offer, although her hopes were not high; Hydra had, after all, spoken of weakness. This would be another lesson, and for that, Vega was eager. There was much for her to learn, and she soaked it all up like a little sponge.

More exciting than the meeting itself was the location. Mother had led them to an unfamiliar area, not far from the rendezvous site. It seemed almost to be separate from the mountain; where the slopes were harsh and unforgiving, this place was ethereal in its greenery. Vega's attention was drawn by the sound of the distant waterfall, and she waited impatiently near Hydra, her eyes and ears turned towards the phenomenon she couldn't quite see.

They were silent, and watchful. Hydra was pleased by all four of her cubs; even @Osiris was holding his tongue, for now. When she arrives, Hydra drawls, I want you to tell me what you think her weakness may be. There can be more than one answer, she advised, gaze moving from her cubs back to the horizon. The dull roar of the falls continued on, soothing. Hydra searches for her familiar features in the distance, ears sweeping forward before the left turns backward and she, too, turns to look at the falls to see if she might arrive from another direction.

phone post, i’ll color the quenya later lmao. just hover for now <3

Hers is the stride of one who has not yet been struck; hers is the voice of one who has not yet been ripped from the living to refracture in the Fade. She soon arrived, with a wisping greeting of  “Sén,”  and a tick of her scarred crown to Hydra with a murmured,  “Tarinya. By your leave, I will begin.”  ... When consent was eventually given, the silver then seated herself before the four hatchlings:

“I am Aurëwen, and I will be your phin — that is, your sage — for ze remainder of my visit.”  Feathering her tail to bed upon minute paws, the greenseer peered at the brood before her with a quiet, studious eye; but there was a patient smile within. Then ...  “Now, might I have each of your names, my students, and what-ever you think a weakness is? What it means to you?”

Atlas bends his fell crown at his mother's request. Hydra expects nothing less of her children.

When she nears, the boy observes with raptorial interest. There is no hitch in her step or scrawled pain on her face, in spite of multiple blemishes. She has been through much. And yet, she is alive. For such a waifish thing, Atlas' first impression of her is positive. He had his reserves before, thinking his family the only fountain of knowledge he needed. But none of his wears her marred hide quite as she does.

Hydra's words echo through his head. "—this wolf does not look to be a skilled fighter herself—though perhaps we will find that her own looks are deceiving." So what of her is weakness and what is duplicity?

Aurëwen speaks an odd language that she deciphers in the same breath. As much as he wants to assess her lilting statements, they were brought here to learn a separate subject. Right. One thing at a time.

To an unlearned eye such as himself, Atlas sees nothing worth reporting at first. Scars are not a weakness. The boy holds Aurëwen's gaze should she permit it.

My name is Atlas. He thinks he sounds strong—stronger than his apprehension of strangers. Meeting the pack has served to quell those fears. And weakness is, um, a fault. A fault that can be exploited. Some weaknesses you can see, some you can't. Gotta be careful. And to answer Hydra's earlier request:

Like, you're kind of small? Bigger wolves could, uh, take advantage of that.

He listens, he follows. His paws and mind are at work, so he is in a good place. When knowledge is dangling in front of his nose, he is particular and he is keen as their mother led them on to the meadow, guided them mentally, physically alike--and then the meeting with the stranger began.

Antares holds fast to a hawkish, watchful silence that soon settles upon the scarred snow-fur wolf. It isn't unusual for the cub, and his observations benefit best when his siblings are there to help do the talking, often laying the groundwork. But he is ever-present, curious--she is so foreign to him still, their sage. His attention is far too easily hers. Their mother had sent them into this poised, though, and perhaps a little baited. He's eager enough to keep going.

Antares. he does provide after his darkest brother replies, and it is with a soft voice he does not exercise often, or without the need. However, obedient, and when asked, though the chill in his eyes masks his swirling thoughts that looks for the answers his mother wants, he agrees with Atlas--as he is used to doing: a fault. After a nod, he chanced his add, with a soft (slightly misplaced) sort of tone. After all, Atlas has covered the most forward of answers. And flaws.. like anything that takes away from strength. he supposed, though this too was mere beginnings. Some last, he added. Hydra had taught them how to seek them, and learn to bypass and overcome their own--erase them, even. But these were goals for larger beasts yet. Some do not..

As for where her weakness lie..? His eyes were narrowing, careful not to miss anything as he was still on the hunt for his answer. Her scars certainly drew his lingering interests, but just because how unfamiliar and new they were to him, but they were no explanation unless any were new enough to hurt still--so what else was there to see? He wondered how fast she could be.. How bold in battle, tooth to claw.. Maybe it was more simple, more circumstantial and intertwined in what was not all against her always--maybe her weakness was so simple and faultless as her luminous white furs? He, deeply dark as his maternal line suggested, imagined trying to sneak and sleuth about  as such with a very distinct want to frown.. but instead, he was all ears for more first.

The visitor arrived, and Vega took in her scarred countenance and strange accent with equal parts skepticism and curiosity. Her mother's instructions had been to determine this wolf's weaknesses, and after introducing herself as Aurëwen, she gave her own similar direction to the children. Vega's gaze shifted to each of her brothers as they spoke, dutifully answering the questions that had been laid out to the best of their abilities.

"I'm Vega," she said when it appeared to be her turn to respond. She drew herself up slightly, not wanting to be discounted simply because she was the only girl, surrounded by her brothers. "A weakness is something you're not good at." Her answers were short, yet confident; even at a young age, she was not once to mince words.

As far as Aurëwen's personal weaknesses, Vega held her tongue. She wasn't ready to make that assessment just yet.

Hydra nodded as the woman began, giving her consent and reclining on her haunches simply to supervise. Though she was pleased with her cubs responses, there as ever was little indication of this. But she was pleased to know how well her cubs listened, each of them. Curtly, Hydra intervened as her son spoke a word she considered lazy: Need to, Atlas, not gotta, she corrected, though in such a way that did not sound undermining. He was growing, learning in all ways—they all were. He was not the only child she corrected. And her eyes were bright in the only way she would reveal to them her pleasure with their developing intellect before they became veiled once more. 

This lesson was not for the matters of heart but for the matters of battle; she wondered what the teacher herself might learn in turn beyond her teachings. Hydra listened, curious herself, gaze shifting back to Aurewen.

To learn the names of her pupils was a lesson in itself; one she did not take for granted, and looked each youngster in the eye for.  “So far, you are on ze right path. A weakness is a fault,”  gaze flitting from Atlas,  “faults that may not last,”  to Antares,  “or ones that simply cannot be improved upon,”  to Vega, “sometimes, even, ones that have yet to be discovered,” until finally resting upon the quiet Osiris — far from minding it. When words were not to be had, thoughts would have their own speculation.

“However,”  she drawled gently,  “even your own weaknesses can be applied for a more favorable outcome. As Atlas has pointed out, I am of a much smaller figure,”  a pale cant of acknowledgement to the murky boy,  “and wolves with a stature akin to mine must strategize with their mind, rather than might. Perhaps, for some thought, your mother is my enemy; perhaps she uses her brawn to press me back; perhaps I will allow her to believe that she has overwhelmed me. Perhaps my half-sight will fail me, and her mark will be true; perhaps I would like for her to think that I have never adjusted to this mishap, and that is why I stumble about. And perhaps still, an opportune moment will present itself in my favor.”

“Of course, to see ze advice in action might be more ... engaging,”  scarred brows crescent askance in Hydra’s direction,  “if Her Majesty would like to volunteer?”

Though Aurëwen did not smile  (yet), her flowered chords weren’t without a shadow of mirth.