Gyrfalcon's Keep Asteroid

AW for Hljodrfell wolves :D maybe @Rusalka? or @Greyfalcon? Anyone can snag!!!<333

The Crone noted the absence of Dreven.
And his mate, the healer...
Vaettir was making her way to the Temple for her prayers and duties, as she looked around for anyone who may be her company, even if briefly.

Vaettir hummed a soft tune, perhaps it was a song from the Far North, if one was within hearing range of her voice.
But her tones were often quiet and never carried in the ways of a leader's own, o who would know?
Vaettir murmured as she looked skyward, glancing the soaring reels of the Gyrfalcons above, and, as she glanced to a fallen tree, she saw a raven perched upon one of the long-dead branches...

"Odin?" She murmured as she looked with awe upon the corvid. 
The sleek onyx-feathered bird cawed in response, neither an affirmative or a correction.

It simply was.

rusalka is vigilant in his guard of the temple.

few visit, besides the high priestess and her acolyte ... but the leviathan is fine with solitude. he always has been, and likely, always would be; though the soft roundness to solveig's flanks reminds him that he would need to learn to be just as fine with company.

he would have it soon in the form of the newest generation of cairns ( though they had yet to discuss who's if any last name they would take ) to look after, to teach.

a dark shadow approaches and rusalka's muscles tense; a well trained hellhound only to relax when he finds familiarity in vaettir's face even if they had to be formally introduced.

a low chuff is offered, if only to alert her to his presence.

The raven cawed softly as Vaettir's attention slid to Rusalka.
She didn't recall being properly introduced to the Temple Guard, but she smiled softly at him all the same.
Her bone-silver eyes flicked once again to the corvid, who tilted its head inquisitively. 

She chuckled softly and moved to come closer to the man, though not close enough to completely invade his personal space, simply close enough to talk comfortably. 

"Ye be the Temple Guard." She mused as she stopped a few feet from him.
The Crone's gaze was kind.
"Never properly introduced myself, did I? I am Vaettir." She said, a polite incline of her muzzle to him in a 'proper' greeting.

i do. rusalka rumbles simply. it had been an easy choice when the high priestess had given it to him, despite his unwillingness to believe in any sort of organized religion.

the borders would be chosen over the stagnant day in and day out of the temple ... which had largely influenced rusalka's decision. he was fine with being the lone sentry who was meant to be seen and not heard.

rusalka. he offers his name simply in return.

Vaettir smiled to the man's responses, simple and short.
"Not one for small talk, are ye?" She guessed with a well-meaning crone's chuckle as she began to descend the slopes with an invitational wave of her plume.
"Have time to keep an old crone some company while I gather herbs?" She called over her shoulder, pausing for him in case the giant decided he would join her or not. 
She wouldn't be offended if he chose not to, but the invite remained open regardless.

no. replies rusalka simply. it is not something the cairn is particularly ashamed of; and better that his packmates learn his true, stony nature now rather than later.

a moment passes as her question lingers in the air; allowing for the contemplation. i can keep you company for a bit. he eventually agrees, gesturing with his muzzle for her to lead the way.

Vaettir smiled softly as Rusalka agreed to keep her company for a brief while.
The Priestess picked her way into the forests from the rocky cliffs, eyes flicking around the forest floors as she furthered her path as if looking for something...
She paused upon a patch of plants growing somewhere just off her trail.

Vaettir glanced to Rusalka before inching closer to the herbs, only to hear a distinct, serpentine hiss come from the other side of the patch of flora!
The Priestess 's eyes widened a bit before she backed off a few feet, allowing the form of a Cottonmouth to slither angrily toward her from the grasses.

rusalka trudges along, content to linger in the not so silent silence between them. it is interrupted by bird song, by the whisper of the wind, by their footfalls: his heavy and her's softer in comparison.

but he is not a talkative beast by many means.

it is the hiss that grabs his attention; his body posture shifting to one reminiscent of a warrior's defense.

frantically, his gaze searches the grasses in front of where the priestess has stopped and recoiled. move! he barks at her. he cannot recollect what type of snake she has angered, but it slithers towards her all the same.

poisonous or not, he does not know. can't bring it in himself to care.

it is preoccupied by her and rusalka uses that to his advantage, lunging at it with the aim to crush it between his powerful jaws.

Vaettir moves away as Rusalka barks for her to do, eyes pinned upon the serpent as it slithers her direction, closer, closer-!

CRUNCH!

The Cottonmouth coils into itself as it's bitten down upon, a fatal error to the snake who focused upon the Priestess. 
Sooner than it seems, it limpens into a deadened scaly rope.

The crone looks gratefully to Rusalka, "You have saved my life, a debt I will repay." She utters for his ears. 
There is no bitterness in her tone, only acceptance as she peers past his bulk into the grasses to see a clutch of eggs nestled just behind the herbs she was going for!

Guilt clutches her chest then, and Vaettir slants her ears back some upon her head.
"She was guarding those." She mutters, gesturing with an incline of her nose toward the unborn snake eggs, visible with a playful gust of wind over the flora.

I assume Cottonmouths don't birth live young, so apologies for any inaccuracies!

i know i said i wasn't going to continue old threads in my scaling back thread but i was planning on using this as a trade thread. <3

is that not my duty? rusalka asks her, pushing the snake's corpse away from him with a paw. he peers behind him, following her gaze, turning to face the nest of small eggs.

he studies it without empathy for the unhatched eggs or the mothers whose life he'd snuffed. cruel, perhaps, but rusalka has become desensitized to the feelings of his prey beyond the moral obligation not to let anything suffer and to make death swift.

he supposes, though, he should harbor some sort of feathering sympathy, his most recent conversation with solveig at the forefront of his mind. he would be a father in the near future and then he would understand the desire to protect something so fiercely that his own life was not even a consideration.

but he is not yet aware of that love.

it is still for the best. she is no danger any longer and they never hatch. it is safer. especially with cubs on the way.

we can archive with your response if you'd like! <333

The Crone hums thoughtfully at the man's response.
The death was cruel in a way, but at the same time, she would nod in agreement to his statement - it would be safe now for the coming pups.

"Agreed." She utters, "Some must die so others may live." She adds, inclining her muzzle to the dead copperhead and the eggs soon to follow.

With that, the Priestess would return her attention to the plants that initially hid the nest.
Inspecting, she hummed in thought...it didn't seem like anything noteworthy, but she kept looking it over all the same...
The white flowers, the flowery yet calming smell...
"Chamomile..." She murmured, brows knitting. 
It might prove useful...thus, the Crone nipped at a small bundle until she had collected it into her maw, leaving a bit over half left to the Wilds so it may return again next year.

"We can return now, if you wish." She said around the Chamomile to Rusalka.

rusalka watches as she gathers the flowers that she needs, and though she calls it by the flora's name, rusalka does not retain it.

because he does not think he needs to and because he could hardly tell the difference between chamomile and a daisy.

he hesitates for a moment, loathe to leave the corpse and eggs behind but ultimately escorts her back. when she indicates she is ready to part ways, rusalka circles back to the snake corpse. gathering it and the eggs, tucking them away in a food cache.