Moonspear ausländer

backdated to 9/13. first tag for reference!

brought by a winged thing, mahler had grimly left the trembles that vibrated diaspora behind him. aurëwen, icarus. a sigh reverberated through him, and he called to @Takiyok, announcing that he would be departing to see if the ripples affected others in the area. a scout would have been better, but mahler had pressing business to attend upon the mountain; he merely needed a cover for his travel.
and it was not a true lie, for the gargoyle intended to ask after the goings-on, but moreover he did not wish for the winterwhite to know he left diaspora in such a time to tend a woman, after she had confessed her heart's core to him. it was unfair; the deception rankled mahler, but he moved quickly, and arrived on @Hydra's threshold with a grim expression in the stony lilac of his stare.
aurëwen — her inherent need to be unchained would be her undoing.

The trembles had effected Moonspear, but perhaps to a less severe degree than other landmarks experienced; still, it was enough to unnerve. Hydra kept her children closer for it; she knew in her own bones that such a thing did not bode well, and instinctively she could not help but feel unsettled. It meant there were always eyes upon them, and for the most part those eyes were her own. At present, though, @Dirge was with them while Hydra patrolled; she sought the wolf the injured woman had wished to care for her while she recovered, knowing his arrival must be imminent. 

She saw him lingering upon her border, silent and brooding; were it not for her own keen eye, her gaze might have passed over him, he seemed so a part of the rocky landscape that surrounded him... even down to his present stillness. The Queen's path shifted as she observed him; he was large, larger than she (and Hydra was by no means a petite woman... though neither was she as big a wolf as her father), and the closer she came the more she was able to take in. Her sharp eye did not miss the wounds they could detect, though they did not hold fast to these visible marks—now she looked to his face, ears erect and plume positioned over her hindquarters as she greeted him: Mahler, I presume? and, without giving him time to guess at who she might be, she introduced herself: I am Hydra, Moonspear's Queen. Did you travel far, to be here? She inquired, wondering what lengths he had gone through to arrive here and now. Hydra wondered, too, if he had felt the earth stir as Moonspear had.

More than that, though, if he were to come into her home, she wanted to be certain he understood the boundaries she demanded. Best to see what sort of manner of a man was before her, first; she was not so foolish as to immediately invite him past her proverbial gates without making some assessment of his character.

the shadowpriest let out the breath he had gathered for a summons as he was attended by a sable presence that commanded the sum of his attention. she was the cool of charcoal's jet underbelly; his gaze was swallowed by her own briefly before she let it flit over the various toothmarks that had made their tearing upon his body.
mahler was quite judged; in another beast, he might have scoffed at the use of the title queen, but hydra of moonspear embodied the role far better than he could have expected. a low bow before he lifted his dark head once more, intrigued by the notching of one eloquent ear.
"a day's vorth, eure majestät," came his soft rumble. "and you presume correctly. i vas summoned by a bird," and here the arch of a brow, but surely hydra would know of what he spoke. mahler wished then to ask after the fairylight, to press that be taken to her at once, but recognized that first the queen of the mountain must see him worthy.

This Mahler seemed well-mannered, and his own swift greeting was utterly genteel; Hydra was pleased by it, though this was not evident upon her ever-impassive features. Her notched ear flicked as he spoke of how he had come to be here, and she nodded; from this, Hydra imagined Towhee's own bird could be commanded. Her trust in the sky had shifted; Hydra had decided upon his arrival that she could benefit from her own winged-companion, though hadn't the slightest idea how to accomplish this. In any case, Mahler must have known who the bird had belonged to, to follow it. 

Or perhaps he did not. Does it speak? Or do you know who it belongs to? She asked next, having not tested the creature herself; Hydra trusted that the marked woman could get him here as she had said, both because she wanted to see it accomplished and as it was a convenient thing to not need to send one of her own away as the earth quaked and her children grew. 

She waited for his response before she spoke again: Your friend was struck by lightning. We have a healer, Lyra, though she has accepted little by way of care from her—she would prefer your expertise. I do not know if you have ever dealt with something like this. None from her pack have come to find her, though her stay here has been longer than expected; we have taken her under our care, and have adopted her into our family so that she may stay as long as she needs, she explained, as our resources are for our own. Hydra paused so that he could take this in and process it as he would, though not for very long. Lyra has ensured there is no infection and that the wound is clean, and provides relief for pain as she permits, thinking that, as a well-practiced man, he would appreciate knowing this much. After a beat, Hydra speaks once more.

I have heard from her why she wishes you to care for her, though I would hear from you why I should trust you within my borders. Tell me of yourself, she requested. Hydra trusted words very little, having seen that for some they meant nothing—still, to trust was a decision, and she would make her choice as to whether or not to do so once he responded; his entrance here was contingent upon it. Hydra did not want another packwolf in her lands, though his teachings could benefit Lyra, she supposed, if he truly was an expert.

your friend — her words a knifelike lance through his heart. mahler remained reserved, distant; afloat upon the cadence of hydra's voice. lightning from the heavens, and it had seared aurëwen. a healer had attended her. surely he must go to her now! but no, no; the queen guarded her stricken charge with a zealousness he would have admired more had not his instincts cried that he could not be kept upon the border.
a long, slow blink of his lilac eyes as mahler sorted through all that hydra had given him. for now, the dove —
— his friend
— she breathed, and for that, he was grateful. the mountainwolves had done well. hydra asked after the bird, but the foremost of her inquiries were after his own intentions. the man tilted his head. "i am diaspora's general. vhy vould i jeopardize my standing vith a queen?"
but the woman wished more; of himself, what could he tell? his tongue belonged hardly to himself, his words veiled; what else might she wish. "i vhelped her children," mahler added softly. "aurëwen is a dear companion." would hydra require more of him, and if so, the gargoyle was bereft — what could he give? 
the raven before him could not be wooed with flatters; mahler meant his words true, but they were for aurëwen also, that he might be admitted now by hydra, and go to her side. 
"as for the bird, it is hers, ja?" to whom else could such a curious creature belong?

Hydra considered his question for a moment. 

Men were foolish, that was one reason. Some women stole wits from the ones that seemed wise, that was another. I would hope that you would not, Hydra breathed, though there was no threat present there. No, within her was nothing but the promise of what would find him should he find a reason that he would. You are not to go past where she rests, Mahler, even if she is able to move beyond it; she is pack, and you are not. My sister will supervise you while you heal, so that she may learn from your expertise. I have cubs who are curious who might also wish to meet you; to forbid it is to guarantee it, I have found, for the first time, her voice is warm with amusement at the thought—the Imperial Monarch loved them dearly. But her voice shifted entirely as she finished, darker, colder:

If harm comes to them by your tooth or claw, I will not rest until I am satisfied with whatever end I decide for you. I trust, though, that you are not that sort of man, she had decided, lest she would have turned him away. Still, it was best he understood the lengths she would go to for her children. Let him think her a monster, a murderess—for her family, she was all that and worse. 

Hydra turns and gestures to her side, stoic though amicable once again. Indeed, it is, she answers firstly.  Diaspora's General, you said—I have not yet heard of Diaspora. Tell me, what are you and yours like? He seemed so different from the petite pale woman, but perhaps it was not so; she supposed she might find out while she led him to his bedridden companion.

she spoke firmly, and mahler had no doubt that he would be put to the sword did he misstep or bear threat to her children. yet she was correct — he was not that sort, and so he was not rankled by her insinuation, but buoyed by the knowledge that she did not see him as the kind of monster who might do such.
"i vill obey," the general grunted, sweeping to the queen's side with a grateful dip of his muzzle. he had gained entry, it seemed, and he would not abuse this privilege. "ve are a military pack, comprised of ghosts  — the unproven — and the fierce who guard all of the sunspire. ve hunt, ve train, our children carry out tasks as soon as they are able. every vone of us contributes to the vell-being of all."
"my kill-brother, stigmata, recently passed. too soon," mahler added, a shadow of pain flitting across his impassive expression, "and i seek to keep his vision alive." hypocrisy, he supposed; a lie at worst, for in his heart did the shadowpriest not believe one pack could seek to hold all the mountains.
there were other ways, he supposed.
"vhat of moonspear?"  mahler murmured, turning the conversation back to hydra, away from unpleasant twinges of pain around the subject of stigmata. "a queen surely has an impressive reign, and vone she has earned."

As she listened to him, Hydra found she quite liked the sound of his Diaspora. Perhaps when she could, she would task her children with things—though in her mind she already knew she would do so, as she must know if they shared the same mettle as the rest of them. A military pack, though; how splendid! Hydra wished he were a more impressionable man that might see the merit in moving his claim nearer to her own to join her in her campaign, but she suspected he did not mind so much being the king of his own country. 

His words, his circumstances, were too familiar; unspoken, she could not know of the several differences between them, too. Hydra found herself murmuring in earnest, I am sorry for your loss, for not too long ago she too had suffered from two that she felt had also passed too soon... though they, at least, had lived full lives and saw for themselves three litters grown. She did not know Stigmata had not; she only imagined he had. All deaths but for her enemies would ever be too soon; a stark reminder of mortality, as well. 

As he turned the tables to her, Hydra's blue eyes lingered upon him. She found she wished to share with him, in that they might be kindred spirits. We are a family pack, but one that places great value on physical pursuits. I myself have mastered my pursuit of becoming a warrior and a guardian both, though one never stops learning, she hummed, humble enough to know she had much more to master in this life. Hydra was a tactical woman, too; these gears shifted even now, though she was not yet a master of this. It was idle ticking, and yet she felt it. My children are raised by the whole of Moonspear. They will know how to defend themselves, and fight for themselves—I once had a younger sister who was killed by a boy who now only has one eye, and I would not see my children suffer the same. If I see him again, I will take more than the eye, she rumbled darkly; he had been smart to never return—if he lived, that was likely why. She continued, looking to him, and so, as you seek to guard your Sunspire, I seek to protect this Wilderness and find those willing to expand; they may have their own land, their own meat, so long as we unite in times of war and turmoil—and it is me they recognize as their High Queen, here she looked to him, and with a sigh, said: it was my fathers final dream, before he passed... but when he spoke it, it was as though he had read my mind. I keep it alive for us both, she revealed, before asking: do you not do the same for yourself, Mahler? Is it not your vision? 

She wondered at that; for she had heard the absence of his own name, there, his vision—not ours. Hydra was perceptive enough to catch this, and to wonder if Mahler might ever wish to pursue his own. What might that be? Might it be the same as most? Could she not give him this and fulfill his kill-brothers dream in the same vein—

But she recalled her former thought, and settled on that—she did not think him to wish to keep his crown for vanity, but for Stigmata... for love. To that end, she could understand... though was also aware she could be mistaken entirely. Perhaps she was. 

lmk why the near-end of this thread [internal tangentt L M A O ] had me hearing galadriel at 3:18 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K3VOf3CBGvw 

i love it!

the more hydra spoke, the more that mahler felt she and stigmata would have made a grand pair. however, they were both wholly ambitious, singular in their ferocity, their hunger, their wants. in the gargoyle, there was no such lofty ambition, no scouring lust to be king of all. mahler was content to rule diaspora until such a time as stigmata's children wished to take from him the reins of such.
"i find you admirable, hydra," mahler intoned, musing over all she had said. "it is my hope that such a fierce ruler has an equally supportive consort." not king; he sensed there was no king in moonspear, and that was as it should be.
"the children of diaspora belong first to their mothers, then to diaspora," he revealed. "they are the lifeblood of any pack, and it takes all the pack to raise them." so there; visions aligned.
hydra asked after his own persuasions, and here mahler paused awhile, having not contemplated what he truly wished outside the framework of stigmata's dream. "my kill-brother sought to rule the sunspire," the gargoyle murmured lightly. "and vhile i admire his insistence it could be done, such things do not happen vithout alliances. vithout ...exchange," mahler added, thinking of the many children stigmata had sired and how he himself could take such a notion and make it more effective.
thinking, pondering; he turned his eyes to the queen and was silent.

Hydra listened to him, warming to his praise. She was a vain woman—to be called admirable hit the right chord within her. His hope was nearly missed, but she had heard it; he was eloquent, this man, and she suspected his use of language was intentional. Dirge was not simply a consort to her, but her equal; his judgment was always considered with her own, and he tempered her more savage desires. My husband and King support me, she rejoined, her tone warm as she supplied him with what he may have wondered, gaze searching. Dirge did more than that; he lifted her, caused her to consider all things she otherwise may not have. His own age brought a different sort of wisdom, one that she used for all of its worth; he was priceless to her. 

He spoke of the children—his, or perhaps Stigmata's this past year?—and how they were to be raised. With a wolfish grin, Hydra drawled: they all seem to know to listen to their mother before any other, for mothers were the giver of all they had ever received in their youth... most importantly, their life. As for belonging, though, indeed their visions aligned perfectly there; they were to be raised by all of Moonspear. Most were already family, and those that were not family by blood would become so in name for the time they remained. 

And as he answered her question, Hydra's gaze upon him became all the more attentive. She need not look where she was going to know her next steps, but she did while she herself considered what he could mean. Lunging up to come upon a ridge not too far where Andraste was settled, Hydra looked back to him and said with a nod: I know as much. She paved her way with such knowledge. But it did not answer her question; what was his desire? Or perhaps he would get to that, and so her gaze lingered upon him, patient in its nature. He had spoken of exchange; did he have something in mind, or was he simply detailing his thoughts? She awaited more of his accented words, finding herself eager to hear them.

oh, so there was another regent in moonspear. curious, that, though mahler suspected that any sort of out-toeing the lines hydra had laid would result in a great flash of her anger. for a general, surely — what of a king? unencumbered by this knowledge, a wry tilt rose to his lips. "mothers are the most important," he rejoined, remembering in a fond moment the little bodies he had helped be born in diaspora. 
she too was careful; at any moment, hydra sought to warn him of her great power here. a gentle threat, he supposed, having done nothing to spark her ire, but he was being told plainly that his tread must be steadfast and cautious. another notch she rose, and by now mahler found himself silently smitten by her confident nature, the taut musculature of her flexing body as hydra led him inward and settled her gaze upon the gargoyle again.
"you asked me vhat i vant," mahler murmured after a heartbeat of time. "i vant to make diaspora in my name, to take vhat he intended and expand upon it. i vant us to be great." perhaps now he had given a satisfactory answer, skirting around the sudden and bold suggestion that had risen in his mind when lilac stare had first played across her queenly frame.

A wry smile sprang to her lips then at his words, agreeing with this here and now entirely as it pertained to her. Hydra had not meant to make him feel threatened, but the truth of it was her nature and her essence could inspire such without intention; strong women did this to many, though he did not seem (to her eye) at all bothered. The Queen was a hospitable host, and Mahler had done nothing to offend—she did not wish to make him feel unwelcome here so long as he held her invitation. 

He answered her then, and she found she quite like what she heard. The only disappointment she knew was that it was his wish, and that he might not someday wish to bring his fief here in service to her own desires, only to obey her in times of war or disaster. Hydra's eyes roved to the muscles that shifted upon him as he moved; if he was as passionate as she in her endeavor, and committed, she imagined this was a man who could see it done. 

Then be great, general, she encouraged lowly, eyes bright. I look forward to hearing of your success. I only wish, selfishly, it were not your dream so that I might encourage you to settle nearer, she openly admitted with a wolfish grin, tail swaying behind her in a loose wave as she regarded him. If his dreams shifted, she would welcome him here openly; Hydra could do with strong allies that would fight for their own—and, united, they would all be each others. 

Food was not yet so scarce as to think so optimistically; Mahler was easy to speak with, and she enjoyed his company thus far. They neared where Andraste rest, and Hydra gestured to the medicinal den that belonged to @Lyra who, for now, tended to Andraste as permitted. The woman was thankless for it, which rubbed upon her sisters terribly thin patience; Hydra felt for her, though humored the pale woman for what she had done for her own children when asked. 

She rests in there, she informed him, and this was when her mirror image emerged to greet them. This is Lyra, her gaze shifted to Mahler, wondering if Andraste's suffering was more than skin-deep and if her head was touched, too, thinking again on Andraste refusing further treatment from her (though her features remained impassive). Hydra waited, too, for him to introduce himself to her sister, not wanting to speak for him. In any case, as to her former thought, she suspected the General would determine this for himself. She will observe while you heal so as to learn, Hydra reminded; Lyra would not be there for the entirety of the time, of course: should you have need of herbs she does not already have, she will find them for you. We appreciate anything you might be able to impart upon her. She knows much, but not all, Hydra admitted. Were they not all always learning new things in any case? 

She waited to hear if he might have any other questions before she returned to her other duties; Lyra (after greeting the general) drifted back into the den likely to organize her herbal wares and awaited her first lesson.

hydra.
her invitation was briefly tempting, but diaspora must remain for now where stigmata had left it, until they had scouted winter quarters. still, mahler warmed beneath the queen's pondering regard of him, the curious travel of her haunting eyes over his body. while he was controlled and aware, mahler was too a man, and so straightened under the light touch of her gaze.
she was beautiful, savage; hydra brought him to mind of takiyok, and mahler believed coolly in the moment that followed only he might be able to meet hydra as an equal, her current king gone quite ignored as he set his plans.
"and i vill velcome all news of your own," mahler murmured, settling his brief and gentle smile upon hydra before he took in the sight of the identical lyra. "i thank both of you," the gargoyle rumbled, head inclining in a bow to the fierce sisters. "i vill ask if anything is needed." 
while he would have wanted to roam the peak, collect and identify his own plants, the warrior had made it quite clear this was not allowed, and so mahler only gave the pair another look of gratitude before he carefully slipped into the place where poor sunknived aurewen lay in anguished repose.

Fading <3 <3 <3 I AWAIT ANOTHER THREAD W MUCH EXCITEMENT

 

Hydra nodded to him, appeased further by the bow; and with that, as he followed Lyra into the space Aurewen rest, she left him to it. The Queen turned on her heel and departed to investigate the borders again so as to protect her pack from those not welcome. For several hours Hydra would keep to this task until she found her cubs again to teach them yet another lesson and spend time with them, sparring against them until they were exhausted.