The morning was fair, not too hot but warm enough that it was comfortable, the green of the grasses covered with shimmering droplets of dew as Týr drew further North. He had decided on a whim to head North, towards Swiftcurrent Creek after his talk with Thistle Cloud. Having grown up without any recollection of his mother it was strange to think of the fawn colored wife of his father as a step mother. To go from having no mother to suddenly having a step mother was quite a change and not one that he wanted to rush. She was his step mother by marriage and that was automatic but the relationship ... Týr did not want to rush that. He wanted to get to know Thistle Cloud better before he could actually refer to her as 'mother'. For reasons Týr could not place he had this distinct and gut feeling that considering Thistle as his 'mother' was like cheating upon his biological mother who was surely watching him from Valhalla. The depth of that feeling, of the knowledge that there was more to him and to his life then he was aware of was unshakable.
The assertion that he was a Viking, having nothing to disprove Ragnar and Floki's story spun it to be simply that he did not wish to invoke Frigg's wrath upon himself. It lingered in his heart still, even though he worked to rationalize to himself that Ragnar had married Thistle and he couldn't really replace something he had never truly had. If his biological mother had truly died giving birth to him surely she wouldn't want him to not look at Thistle in that way just because of irrational feelings of guilt that he couldn't, really, explain.
His pace was casual as he moved having decided not to stop at Swiftcurrent Creek unsure if Fox would even accept him back (unaware that she was no longer leading Swiftcurrent); he could have just as easily inquired if Stavanger Bay had an open space for him but despite Thistle Cloud's assurance that Ragnar hadn't forgotten him Týr wasn't so sure there was a place for him in Ragnar's new life. So instead of making any sort of decision the young Rekkr wandered. Living like a vagabond wasn't horrible at least during the summer months when he did not need to seek the body heat of another and when hunting was good; and if there was anything to take from his indecision it was that wandering allowed him to explore the free territories of Teekon Wilds at his own leisure.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
Tuwawi's third day spent in the North came and went, and soon the four dawn was upon her. The forest was lush with dew, the air crisp with a morning freshness. Alpine aromas filled her lungs as she stirred beneath a old, fallen cedar tree, fresh although a bit sore from her tango with the bobcat. Adventure was in her spirit, but a new cautiousness now habituated there too... the cat had reminded her of the inherent danger a lone wolf invited... and if it wasn't for the other female, Kipling, Tuwawi might not have come out of that scramble so fresh and unscathed. The red mother counted her lucky stars as she began her morning climb, traversing new sections of the glacial peaks not yet mapped.
It wasn't far into her hike that an eerily familiar scent caught her nose... and she traced it to the lower steppes of the mountain. In the distance, a chocolate creature moved - identifiable as a male wolf. Tuwawi swiftly cantered betwixt the boughs of spruce and pines, curiosity overwhelming. "Hey you!" she called on the move, hoping to get the other's attention... Eventually she slowed within a few respectful leagues of the dusky boy, eyeballing the silver streaks below his icewater gaze with recognition. Time had made her memory hazy, "I know you."
Týr's pace slowed as he breached into new territory, allowing crystalline blue eyes to take in the familiar and yet untamed landscape around him. He scented a few fresh trails of wolves, one that scented of Swiftcurrent Creek and rang a bell of familiarity in his mind but not one that he could instantly or outright place. He did not recall this territory before though obviously it had not just sprung into existence. It had been here for longer than he had been on the earth of that there was no doubt but it felt feral still, land not yet claimed or trampled often by wolves. Just like Stavanger Bay. The Teekon Wilds were expanding as the wolves grew braver and ventured further claiming the lands for family and pack alone. It was an exciting notion and he deigned to discovery a territory previously unknown to them himself one day. To carry on the legacy of the Ironside. Living up to the title 'Ragnarsson' was no easy feat but he would definitely give it his best and it started with the word conquer.
Lost to the devices of his thoughts Týr had not noticed Tuwawi until she called out to him grabbing his attention with a 'hey you'. Chocolate colored ears slunk to rest atop his skull at half mast as his head moved in her direction, catching the sight of her fire pelt instantly. For a moment he mistook her for Fox, only to realize that the woman as she neared was too large to be Fox. He knew of her though her name escaped him. She confirmed that she knew him, and he suspected that it was likely if they had not crossed paths during his time in Swiftcurrent Creek he definitely knew of her. I am Týr but some might know me as Sveinn. I used to live in Swiftcurrent Creek,
He spoke to her hoping to, in return, sate his own curiosity garnering her identity. You are Njal's wife, correct?
Týr inquired remembering the other Northman well. I am sorry I do not remember your name.
He spoke sheepishly, yet sincerely nevertheless hoping that she did not take offense to his lapse in memory.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
Suddenly, her memory came to. She had seen this wolf in passing at Swiftcurrent... but what was his name? Njal had spoke fondly of him; another man from the North. His posture was neutral and unimposing, polite with a good sense of etiquette. The laws of their breed asked Tuwawi to assume the same position, but a new sentiment of ownership overtook her mind and spirit. This mountain, despite its creepy crawlies, was an impeccable fortress — and she would take it. For Njal. For her children.
However, the auburn woman was sensitive to the implications of her claim, and she dare not deign to be rude to this guest. Her tawny paws became grounded as her body seemed to lift into a stance brimming with confidence, but not so overbearing as if to imply that this wolf was unwelcome. "Ah yes... you were with us for a short time," she remembered as her acquaintance reiterated his name. Týr. Sveinn. She recognized the latter. "I'm Tuwawi. Njal spoke highly of you," she told him with an interested expression. The stoic Njal had been taken by the youth, interested in his heritage. "What bring you across this range? Heading back South towards Swiftcurrent?" she inquired, hungry for information. So far, Sveinn was the closest thing she had to a companion outside of the creek's borders, and it was imperative to retie lost connections to help better weld the Sveijarn's plots.
Týr didn't want to carry on Ragnar's legacy, not really. They were big proverbial shoes to fill. He did not think it was too much to want his own legacy. Something to be apart of that was bigger than himself, but he knew he would first need to establish roots which was something that up until now he was not able to grow. It was trepidation that hindered him. A fear of planting roots, perhaps a significant amount of insecurity of not being good enough, not strong enough. Things that the young Rekkr needed to find out about himself on his own terms, at his own time. Eyes of crystalline blue focused on the pretty fire kissed woman before him — she had spoken that her name was Tuwawi — his body readjusting a neutral position that was respectful and partially submissive, smart enough to place the pieces together that she was might have been working on claiming this newly re-discovered lands.
It came as something of a surprise to hear the Njal had spoken highly of him to Tuwawi and a small smile graced the heathen prince's lips, surprised and gratuitous all the same. He glimpsed down at his chocolate colored paws at her question, thinking about his response to it. In reality, it was an easy response and he wished to be truthful with her. No,
Týr did not take the criticism of Haunter well and feared that Fox might punish him for abandonment. It was no less than he would have deserved. My father is in these Wilds further North but he has a new life and I do not wish to intrude upon it.
Týr gave a lofty shrug of his shoulders.
I am just a wanderer,
He knew he'd need those roots that they would play an essential and necessary role in the Ironside legacy but he had no idea of where he would plant them or, even, where to start.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
"Is that so?" Tuwawi mulled, "much has happened in the valley these past few months... you've missed a lot," she told him, unsure if he was still interested in the going-ons of Swiftcurrent's life. He appeared rather disinterested; detached from the pack's politics after months of travel... but the red woman thought enough to fill him in with broad strokes. "Fox is no longer at the helm of Swiftcurrent. Our Beta leads, now... you remember her don't you? Bazi? The young, pretty white one. Blue eyes." Bazi was such a different character compared to when she had first arrived... Tuwawi wouldn't blame Týr if he didn't recognize her.
She paused for a few moments to think about what else the northerner may have missed. "There was a situation with the neighboring pack, Sunspire. It has been resolved... for the most part. I would keep clear of the land between the mountain and the creek, however," she advised... though Tuwawi hoped the young man wouldn't have a need to mingle that far South now that she had found him. There was more information to be shared, but the ember doubted Týr cared to listen to drivel about the packs' tension. Instead, she enticed him with a small, personal nugget. "Njal and I had children this Spring," she told him with a warm smile and small wag of her sooty tail, deviating from the boorish tales of politics and rivalry.
Tuwawi was attentive to his words, Týr noticed as to which he was without a doubt grateful to even if it was a bit strange for the Rekkr to be listened too so thoroughly. She hadn't even seemed to hold it against him that he had left Swiftcurrent Creek as he had expected might happen. There would always be wolves who would judge and accept nothing else but their own theories as an answer when it came to wavering loyalty to a pack. Týr would never dispute that loyalty to a pack, cause, or even an idea was of the utmost importance but it wasn't all their was to life. He wasn't old enough to claim that he knew much of life but he knew that life wasn't starkly black and white. There was much gray of many shades in the middle. Chocolate colored ears cupped forth when she spoke that he had missed much, that Fox was no longer leading Swiftcurrent Creek seemed to be only the start and that Bazi stepped up in Fox's place. Týr's brow furrowed slightly as Tuwawi inquired as to if he remembered Bazi. The name rang something of a bell within him though the Bazi he remembered had seemed to have been glued to Ferdie Von Pelt's side. I believe I do, yes,
Týr responded, knowing that he hadn't had much of an interaction with her. She must have changed much. I remember that she seemed to have been attached to Ferdie Von Pelt's side when I was there last.
Perhaps she hadn't been but that was how Týr had perceived her at the time and it was hard to shatter that image if only because it was the only one that he had of her.
Unfortunately, the Sunspire was long after Týr had left but fortunate was on his side because he had went to them about a potential home only to turn it down after he realized that Ferdie had led it. As much as the Rekkr wanted to say it wasn't personal, it kind of was, and he did not exactly approve of how Ferdie dealt with his ranks. Týr respected his elders and respected those of a higher rank than himself but excessive dominance to the heathen Prince was unnecessary and unwelcome to him. He understood the laws of nature without being lorded over like some kind of slave. Týr was no slave and refused to bow to someone who thought that lording excessive dominance over another earned rank. It didn't earn anything. It just showed a pompous narcissist who thought he deserved something simply because he was a bully. The difference of opinion and Týr's personal perspective of things did not make it an optimal choice for a new home. Perhaps he had it all wrong but he wasn't about to give someone the chance to prove him wrong. I have no need to go to either,
He did not confess his dislike of Ferdie to Tuwawi simply because it was of no real consequence. They didn't have to deal with one another and as long as the distance remained then he foresaw no real problem.
Ears perked at Tuwawi's news that she and Njal had had children in the Spring. He answered her warm smile with a small one of his own. He liked children, still being part of one himself ...it was only his father's new children that he was unsure of. Circumstances were quite different here, though, and he was genuinely happy for the pair. Congratulations,
Týr told her with a sincere enthusiasm. I think Njal had said about wanting to start a family,
He was pretty sure the male had but that had been some time ago and more immediate things had taken precedence in the forefront of Týr's mind. I'm glad you two were able. How many are there?
Týr asked his interest true, hoping that his question wasn't too prying.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
"Thank you," she said, accepting his congratulations with a warm simper. The genuine tone in his voice was refreshing. Too long had Tuwawi surrounded herself by binary creatures; pragmatic wolves who only operated on instinct. There was so much more color to the world than just black or white, and the biological desire to reproduce was overshadowed by the love she shared for her husband. "Yes... we had wanted children for a long while. There are four, two girls and two boys," she reported with a demure expression, thinking fondly of the Sveijarn brood. The few days away from them were too many already. "Our eldest is named Valtýr... I suppose he shares a bit of your name," she said, eyes lighting up at the realization.
She paused, taking a moment to gaze beyond her company into the beryl alpine boughs of spruce and larch with desiderium. "Njal and I plan to move to this mountainside soon," she confided to the chestnut colored youth. "We wish to leave Swiftcurrent and forge our own path." the reasons were many: leave behind the tribulations of the creek pack, create a safe haven for their children, and fulfill the desire to strike out and create something from nothing. "We will be on our own for a while... but perhaps, if your travels don't cause you to wander, you would be interested in a home here?" Tuwawi extended the invitation openly without hesitation. Sveinn was a levelheaded youngblood, keen and intelligent with a quick wit, and the ember was confident he would be a treasured brother to the maiden pack.
Týr didn't exactly have a great relationship with Ferdie as it was so he had no desire to return or go anywhere near The Sunspire as long as it was led by him. They had a very wide difference of opinion and Týr had a very time respecting someone who was excessive and clinging with the enthusiasm of their dominance. He understood that dominance was a large part of how their worked, he was a wolf, after all. Nevertheless, he couldn't stand being lorded over like he was some sort of simpleton, or worse yet some sort of servant. Týr Ragnarsson was no simpleton and no one's servant. Týr did not know the details of Ferdie's falling out with Fox and did not really care too. It did not directly affect him and so he understood Tuwawi's desire to not go into gruesome and likely length details. In fact, he was relieved that she did not feel the need.
The conversation moved at his congratulations on the birth of her children and his inquiry regarding them. Týr was glad that Tuwawi hadn't found his question to be prying or intrusive and he gave the fire kissed woman a soft smile when she told him that she had two girls and two boys. Even numbers, that's good luck, right?
Not that the Nordic peoples put much in store for luck. Everything was Fated. I would love to meet them sometime, providing you and Njal wouldn't mind,
He really did like children, probably because the teenager was on that awkward stage between adult and child himself. He wasn't very playful, having according to Ragnar always been very driven to train. Týr was inclined to believe him. I suppose we do,
It was about high time he stop calling himself Sveinn having grown, literally and metaphorically, out of the nickname. Týr knew that he was named after the God and wondered if the boy was too, or if he was named for someone else entirely.
Týr, at Tuwawi's following words of her and Njal moving their little family to this mountainside, which made her approach to him, initially, make more sense, allowed his eyes to touch the mountainside with studious eyes. As far as the Rekkr remembered he had never lived on a mountain, his whole memory of Tartok having been erased along with his oldest memories. The block in his mind kept him from remembering mentally and yet his paws itched to explore it. His mind might not have retained them but his sense of touch remembered the craggy slopes, retained how to balance so as to not lose his balance and plummet to the earth. It is beautiful,
Týr remarked with a soft measure of awe in his voice. The fire kissed woman's offer drew his exploring eyes back to her, focusing on her face not with disobedience or challenge but with surprise. He was quiet as he mulled it over, realizing that there was no reason for him not to accept her generosity. He admired Njal very much, feeling sure that there was much the other Northman could teach him, and he already liked Tuwawi a great deal though this was the first he had truly had the chance to speak with her.
With the Sveijarn family he could plant roots and aid them in the creation of their pack. He could carve another path, one that Ragnar did not intend for him and work on beginning his legacy as Ironside and shed the implication that all he was good for was being 'Ragnar's son'. It was a tempting offer and one that Týr found he did not want to refuse. I would be honored,
Týr accepted it without another thought about it. Thank you.
He spoke with sincerity, having not expected it but pleased at the chance, nevertheless.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
Tuwawi beamed at the youth's request to meet the Sveijarn litter, resembling a proud mother hen. The children already had quiet a spectrum of personalities, ranging from the stubborn Lárus to fiery and autonomous Maera. Valtýr was a soft and sweet natured boy, unlike his stalwart and dominant sister Jökull. Each one was created in the image of their sire and dam, a collection of their attributes in some way... but each stamped their own twist on life. Tuwawi loved them dearly, and was excited to see them take on the world as the months passed by. Opportunities for the young were endless in these wilds, but it was up to Njal and herself to provide and protect throughout their younger days. Never did Tuwawi think her maternal instincts would run so deep. It felt like just yesterday that she was a scrappy juvenile getting driven into the dirt by Tluzä-Utrúx in Kindred's arena. Now, she had grown, and with age came sense, wisdom, and experience. Yet, Tuwawi would always be the same passionate hotblood, but her visceral nature had been considerably cooled by responsibility.
"I would like that... and I know they will love you," she told him with a smile. Týr would be as a good role model, especially for her sons who often found themselves groveling to their sisters. Plus, another Norther's influence would strengthen their common heritage... though perhaps their link with Tartok would eventually be rekindled, as well. Her tail swished with optimism, spirit upbeat and she drew herself nearer to break the wall strangers often maintained. Tuwawi briefly paused, testing the space between them and then reached out to nudge his brunette ruff. No longer would he be a vagrant, but a dear friend and ally. Týr accepted the invitation, and the ember brimmed with delight. "I will howl for you when we return to this mountain. For now, I will be surveying this land for a few days before gathering my family back at Swiftcurrent. I look forward to this new start... exciting times are ahead of us," she told him. Yes... exciting times as well as hard times. Summer was waning, and these fertile lands would soon become bone scarce. These troubles weighed in the back of Tuwawi's mind, but for now her only recourse was to focus on the present.
Týr smiled softly as his soon-to-be Drottning when she spoke that her children would love him. It was exciting, Týr found, to know that he had a home, or a soon to be home, rather. He hadn't had a real home since Odinn's Cove and he had thought that perhaps there was something wrong with him, that his unwillingness to plant roots had been some kind of sign from the Gods that he was missing a vital piece of information they were tossing in his path. Intercepting their signs had never been his forte, better suited for Floki or Ragnar or, even, the Seer. In reality, it had been of his own design but now, now he wanted roots. He wanted a stable home, he wanted to be apart of something bigger than himself and Tuwawi had graciously given him that chance. He would not let her down.
Týr held still when the fire kissed woman drew near and nudged his ruff. It was breaking the barrier of strangers they had once had up. It made everything more official. More real. I will stay close, maybe start a cache or two so we have a head start,
He didn't really want the Gameskeeper trade mostly because Haunter had managed to suck his confidence out of him like a black pit of a vacuum and he felt that he wasn't nearly good enough to consider himself anything close to Gameskeeper but he wanted to contribute. He wanted to do what he could until he was actually needed.
With that the pair continued their conversation while exploring the newfound territory that would soon be their home.
a crime so old as the sky and bone