Sleeping Dragon live fast die young

@Thuringwethil

Her jaws clenched against the soft body of a rabbit, doing her best to ignore the metallic taste of blood as it ran down her throat. In the days since her last meeting with the leader of Drageda, Magpie had felt awakened. Her desire to lead had only burned brighter; it seemed that Sleeping Dragon was her best option, and particularly if she could sway the commander to crown her as Beta and advisor. Although not her end goal, it would better position her for a following and family of her own.

Settling, now, seemed an easier thing to swallow.

Thuringwethil had not told her where Drageda lay specifically, but the dark woman knew the general direction and had sought the commander's scent with tenacity upon reaching a decision. Perhaps, too, the younger female had come to realize that she desired Magpie as her second.

She dropped the rabbit as soon as she caught wind of a tapestry of scent similar to the commander's, and lifted her head to request the yearling's presence.

She'd been taking it as easy as she's able since she's gotten back from her little trip north. Too much exertion nearly brought her down once she'd gotten to the cave she prefers to sleep in. Her head throbbed and her limp had been prominent but she refused to call for help, curling into a ball and sleeping in the darkest corner she can find. She slept there for the rest of the night and by morning, she's stiffened and it takes a few moments to unfurl herself.

With the pain a dull excuse to slow her down, she stretches in the mouth of the cave. One look up tells her she's wasted most of the morning already, the sun in the sky above her, but she doesn't have much time to dwell. A call reaches her ears and she swivels them forward with a grin on her face.

Thuringwethil's first attempts a steady lope but a few painful steps remind her to slow down. She eases into a pace more suiting of her minor injuries she's put a little too much stress on. She eventually reaches the woman and the sudden tinge of blood on the air raises a tightness in her chest. Grey eyes glance down at the kill as her head sits evenly above her shoulders. No longer are they on neutral grounds and she doesn't resist the urge to make herself look bigger and she squares back her shoulders.

"Maudlin," Thuringwethil all but purrs her greeting, giving her the floor to speak.

Magpie's own posture remained dignified and relaxed, but her tail hung lowly and her head and ears bowed in respect. It spoke of confidence, but deference. Bright eyes swept coyly over the yearling as the dark woman directed her gaze elsewhere; she had no wish to challenge the commander, but instead claim her place as advisor. Thuringwethil's stuff movements did not go unnoticed, and had Magpie been a different wolf, she might have assumed it was merely the display of dominance. She sensed injury, but made no move to speak until she was invited.

She had forgotten that she had shared with Thuringwethil her true name, and as it fell from the commander's jaws, the Corvidae felt something she couldn't quite place. "Commander," Magpie responded evenly, as if they were already working with one another. "A gift for you," she continued, indicating the hare that lay between them. Beyond that, she remained silent, the limits of her pride already reached; it was clear why she was here, and directly asking for admittance seemed too much like begging.

The girl hadn't eaten since before her trip and her mouth waters when the rabbit, already evident a gift, is presented. Thuringwethil doesn't dip her head and scarf up the kill as much as she'd like and instead nods her head. Moving forward might reveal more of her injury than she is willing to let on, and keeping still gives her the only security her posture won't falter. "Thank you," she says with a subtle twitch of her tail.

"Welcome," she tells her. Magpie wouldn't be at her borders for any other reasons and Thuringwethil's desire to negotiate has worn off. "You will have to earn your place," she adds, eyes resting easy on her features, "but if you what you say is true, I don't expect that to be too hard." Thuringwethil may have dangled the promise of leadership but picking up a strange wolf to fill the position wouldn't be the smartest idea. She doesn't need an advisor for that and she hopes Magpie can see the bigger picture laid out before her. "Let me show you around."

She was not quick to fully trust, or even truly respect, another wolf that was not Corvidae or otherwise bonded by blood— but she felt a spark of it as the commander seemed to easily read between the lines, and did not waste their time with more negotiation or shows of power. Instead, Thuringwethil was direct and transparent, another quality that Magpie valued greatly. She felt more at ease accepting a position in the shadows of leadership (rather than its forefront, where she preferred to be), if she was not expected to grovel or otherwise present as anything other than herself.

It was wise that the position was not granted immediately, even Magpie had to admit, though it was at odds with her ambition. This way, too, she was more likely to ascend without causing unrest. Still, the Corvidae would act the part— title could come later. She moved to nudge her muzzle gently beneath Thuringwethil's chin in acceptance, before again standing apart.

"The only way for you to know," she offered, "is to test me. I can't tell you of the paths forward if I'm blind to the present." Magpie fell silent, then, and wouldn't press the matter further— at least for now.

Her snout moves upward an inch when Magpie approaches, bumping her nose to her chin, and she slowly closes her eyes. The action is brief and soon the space between them takes over and she looks out across the way, the woman back in her spot a few feet from where she stands. The invitation to be shown around isn’t acknowledge and, instead, she hungrily goes in for the entire purpose of showing up. Heda can appreciate the gesture but she’s reluctant to spill any details already; the woman has barely taken the time to accept her new role.

Magpie doesn’t know of her culture or how they typically handle things and she’d prefer her observe what she’s able before offering anything. Thuringwethil doesn’t deny her, however, and nods her head again. Not going for the tour at least gives her the chance to avoid unnecessary pain shooting through her limb.

“That is why you should settle. Observe. I will tell you the recent events but perhaps you should take some time to consider them,” she offers. Magpie’s first day in the pack and Thuringwethil would prefer she rest, get settled, familiarize herself before she can provide advice for a clan she doesn’t even know. “We’ve had two wolves abandon us already,” she explains, “and perhaps another. It has been a few days since he’s reported to his post as guard.” 

Goliath hadn’t been by to cover a shift guarding their captive in a few days and she hopes for his return and a reasonable explanation. As each day grows, however, the binding of herself to her subordinate is strained, tugged a little tighter, until it snaps. It isn’t unlikely for wolves to come and go from one pack to the next—Magpie has already stated her intentions—but it is new to Thuringwethil. Her dedication to her home had always been there and when she came to rise as commander, the wolves dedicated to her increased. She didn’t lose wolves to other homes, to other adventures, very often, and she feels uncertain with her grasp on Drageda with the comparison of Seageda looming over her head.

“And a puma has paid a visit; he hasn’t been detected since, but the threat is there.” The wounds on her leg are merely scabs at this point but too much exertion causes them to split and wearing down her body like she’s used to shovels pain inside her head she’s only felt a handful of times after battle.

Once she's gotten a few things across, setting hem up for the future, Heda shows her newest recruit around.