Stavanger Bay Chasing the horizon

Who wants to be harrassed? =D
@Amoxtli can join in whenever she gets accepted, or you can start your own elsewhere if you want to split up. Either works for me!
I'm going to assume that she tracked Sveinn this far at least.
I also did a minor power play, please let me know if that is not okay and I can edit it out!

His trail had been difficult to follow, one of the hardest hunts she had yet to participate in. Yet she had known her skill would pay off in the end. Traces had taken her here, to this strange land inhabited by yet more of her kind... but not. These were no Amazons, but lesser packs, holding nothing of her homeland's own proud heritage and warrior's honor. Thus, she walked these lands with something akin to disgust, hating the necessity that had forced her to leave the beauty of her home behind and yet knowing that her duty was all that matters.

The sooner they found their Prince, the sooner they could leave here. Surely he would be glad to return to a more civilized life, a mother who loved him despite the drawbacks of his gender and a land where beauty and strength were unrivaled.

It was not long before she came upon a scent marker, a border of sorts, and she stopped. She was not afraid to venture further but it was not necessary. If she knew these sorts, they at least had one thing in common... they protected their borders as well, however uneffectively. Perhaps, if she were coming, Amoxtli would be along before anyone came. Then she too could assist in questioning these wolves for news of their Prince. As hunter, Manauia had been sent ahead to seek the trail. The rest would follow.

Thistle was walking as was usual for her as of late. Not wanting to be around too many people, finding as time moved on she was becoming rather introverted versus her former extrovert self. Afraid to have more hurt or more heart break she supposed. It bothered her to a small degree that her husband or anyone really could change her so drastically, granted she changed herself, but she firmly believed that it was a largely in part due to circumstances out of her control.

She made it to the borders and stood still as she scented another wolf, a female. She was tired of all the females coming to their home. How many more would come? and how many more would want her husband? So she stalked to the border back stiff and tail held high above her back and she stared at the female with fire in her eyes and a stiff upper lip. The wounds on her shoulders and head beginning to heal, but scabbed and worn. What do you need at our borders? She stood still then looking over the girl that stood there waiting for an answer.

Ragnar had been on his usual morning patrol when a particular scent had drafted down wind. It was archaic and undeniably familiar to him. It scented of female and the spice — none in particular but it was not the female's scent at the border he recognized but the scent of her that clung faintly to her coat. Quetzalcoatl. Finally she had sent her huntress for the boy, the boy that had been his captive first and then his son after Floki and him had filled his mind, amnesia stricken as it had been, with an alternate reality. A different life then the one the Amazon Prince, spared by his Queen mother despite the Amazon's disregard for male life had previously lived. And now they had came to collect. Ragnar had wondered how long it would take their Queen to come search for him and was surprised it had taken her huntresses this long to finally track him down to a specific location. Why the woman was here, though, Ragnar had no conclusion. Tyr was not in Stavanger Bay and when they had parted he had not asked where his son was going and Tyr had made no intentions of telling him. It was an agreement they had came too. Tyr was capable of taking care of himself and did not need to check up or in with Ragnar.

Ragnar approached the scene just as Thistle asked the Amazon huntress at their borders why she was there. Ragnar knew why the Amazon was there, having always assumed that this day would come, except perhaps it would not come to the reckoning that Floki had always feared it would come too. After all, Tyr did not remember that life. An unfortunate side effect of the head injury he had taken during the initial struggle. The Amazon Prince had been strong, well trained by the Amazon women but was no match for one Berserker let alone two of them. You are far from home, Amazon, Ragnar spoke to her, giving her his usual coy smirk figuring that she would either confirm or deny his suspicions when she responded to Thistle's question.

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Manauia made no move to challenge the female who approached, but neither did she submit. Her expression remained unchanged, cold and disapproving. This woman was neither her queen nor her commander and therefore would be afforded as much respect as a stranger was wont to receive.

Her question was not unreasonable and just the thing the Amazon huntress had been expecting to hear on approach. As she was about to answer with a question of her own, a male followed. She dismissed him immediately, but was surprised when he greeted her with knowledge of her home. Had he been to Coatl's Rise? And was still among the living to speak of it? Perhaps he was an escaped slave or consort of one of the warriors. In any event, it was nothing worth worrying over, for she had a bigger mission here.

She directed her response to Thistle, the woman affording more of her attention than the male. If he knew of their people then he would be aware of why. "I come seeking a wolf. A young man, with pelt brown as an oak's bark and markings of white beneath each eye." She assessed them both keenly as she spoke, wanting to keep track of the male's reaction to this news as well. Unless they were practiced liars she would know it when they spoke false. If only Nochtli were here, she was even better at the art.

She did not mention Sveinn's princehood, unsure if the information would cause issue in her search. It was unlikely that they would know him by that name in any event. A physical description held better chance of returning results.

Thistle did not have very much like for this female at their borders. Firstly the woman was clearly not very respectful, though she was not overtly challenging either, and it wasn’t as if she was trying to gain entry, so there was no need to demand a show of some respect, though it would have been kind. Thistle would have certainly, done it, especially if she had a favor to ask or a wolf to seek.

Thistle tilted her head towards her husband, an Amazon. So this was what those women looked like. She had heard of such women of course. Women so strong and warrior like, they held contempt for all males, only using them for breeding purposes and slaves. She tilted her head wondering how her husband knew her, but kept the question for another time.

Thistle was trying to process the question, they had no wolves there with brown pelt that she could think of at the moment, was Atreyu brown? She thought perhaps Verrine may have been having trouble drawing him to the forefront of her mind. We have a couple brown and white wolves. I’m afraid I can’t offer you more than that, until I know why you seek him? Thistle did not even think of her step son, and she would not have given him up anyway, by threat of death. Unless Ragnar told her it was okay, she would protect that boy with her own life, just as she would protect her own.

The Amazon woman did not directly respond to him, not entirely unexpected to the scarred Scandinavian whom had dealt with their Quetzalcoatl on numerous occasions. She had spoken to him because she had no real choice but her disdain had been made clear with every clipped response she had given him. With Thistle's presence it made sense to Ragnar that the Amazon before them would directly speak to her rather than directly speak to him. Given their disposition towards men Ragnar had a hard time understanding how their Queen had grown to love her son — love him enough Floki had told him to give the boy a name that was never before afforded to men and to raise him as their Prince. Ragnar supposed at the end of the day Quetzalcoatl was a wolf like any other and more than that a mother and he supposed that love was enough for her to twist her own traditions to include her child. Or perhaps, because he looked so much like her she had thought to spare his life. As the Amazon woman described his Týrr he smirked slowly. What had he spat that his name was when Floki and him had lunged for him? Tezcacoatl. She was looking for a wolf that existed but also ...didn't. The amnesia had been nothing more than a coincidence but Ragnar had taken full advantage of it, nevertheless. Originally he had intended for the Amazon Prince to become his slave but had decided that giving him new, false memories — making him become Ragnar's son — was more of an insult towards Quetzalcoatl.

He had no desire to go to war with the woman, not then and not now, but he took satisfaction of knowing that, technically, he had her and her Huntresses in the his grip. Only, they didn't know it; the damage was already done. He was not sure if the boy would ever regain his memories.

Thistle spoke then that they had a few wolves that were brown and white but none marked so rarely. Thistle might not have realized who it was the woman had just described but of course, Ragnar had. He had known about the boy long before Floki and him had ambushed him on his move with Tartok. He doesn't exist anymore. Ragnar spoke to the woman with simply, truthfully. He lives do not worry, The Viking spoke after a pause, soft voice accented heavily, gaze resting heavily upon the Amazon woman. But he is not who he used to be. With that, the Jarl fell silent.

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Manauia could have guessed as much. Even the female was so course she would not know a prince should he be standing right in front of her. She had not asked for a brown and white wolf, but rather one who, like his radiant mother, would stand out even to the most blind. Either he had not been here or this female had no eyes with which to see... or no brain with which to remember.

She was about to turn away in evident disgust, not even prepared to say a word in departure, but the male's voice stopped her. At first she was annoyed that he would dare address her, but then remembered that, much as she despised it, this was not home. Here they let their men run wild, taking liberties that would have the same males executed swiftly should they attempt to hold half the freedom. Her ears flattened as he spoke of his existence, but she had no time to let loose a snarl before his next words appeased her some. So he was alive. His next statement made no sense. Once a prince, always a prince. No matter what this man thought, Tezcacoatl could not get rid of his heritage that easily, and she would see to it that he was returned to his rightful place at his mother's side.

"I do not have time for your games. Whether he is who he was or not is of little consequence. I am to find him and bring him home." She growled, growing impatient. This male knew who he was or he would not have spoken as such. He had knowledge that he was not divulging and his obvious deceit angered her.

As Thistle watched the woman attempt to turn away in disgust she heard her husband’s voice speak and just like that she realized who she was talking about and her hackles rose. They would not, they could not have or take Tyrr, not if she had anything to do with it. But did she really have any right to even think this protectively of her husband’s son, any right at all? She let her hackles lay back down and looked down unsure how to proceed, she could just turn and walk away she supposed let him deal with them, after all it was not her choice to make nor was it her place to speak of him. But her motherly instincts wouldn’t allow it.

She looked up blue eyes flashing their internal fire as they always did, setting her apart from most and she spoke coldly. I know who you seek and he is not here. Nor will he even know who you are he will not go with you, and if you intend to do so by force you will have me to deal with, but he is not here in this bay he is elsewhere. So get away from my borders, before I make you and I will not tell you where he is so don’t even ask. Be gone She supposed she could be nicer, but if this wolf was not going to be kind, why should she be really, she didn’t have to be and she wouldn’t be. No one who didn’t show her kindness or respect they didn’t deserve it from her, and that was the truth.

Ragnar let out a soft, mirthless chuckle when the Amazon woman spat that she didn't care if he knew who he was or not that she intended to take him home, regardless. The mental of image of the woman at their borders attempting to make his stolen son do something he didn't want to do was an amusing one and the scarred Scandinavian made no attempts to hide his arrogant smirk. She knew Tezcacoatl — whatever the boy had been before Ragnar and Floki had made him into Týrr, a mortal image of the God whose name he shared — she didn't know Týrr. The stolen Prince of the Amazons had two different wolves, two personalities and two lives within him and Ragnar was overly confident that the Scandinavian was the more dominant. What boy wanted to bear a false title of Prince knowing that the feral woman of his birth pack would never truly give him the respect that they afforded one another? Quetzalcoatl had been soft, had loved her spawn and her weakness had drug him into a path of his own destruction. Ragnar liked to believe that he had saved the boy from that. Gave him the chance to choose his own path.

This little girl thought she was going to take the Heathen Prince back to her Queen and that all would be as it once was. She and her Queen were of no consequence to Ragnar. He had once delved to have her Quetzalcoatl but he could never bring himself to grovel at her feet like a slave. He was not her slave — he was no one's slave. Thistle surprised Ragnar when she went off on a rant to the Amazon woman, especially given how poorly Tyrr had received her and Tveir. He hated to burst his Queen wife's bubble but she did not know who or what she was challenging in defense of his stolen son. Thistle wasn't a trained fighter and the Amazon was ...that was what they lived to do. Fight, and they were impressive. And ruthless. He did not tell Thistle that, keeping his lips shut not wanting the Amazon to know there were rifts between them. It annoyed Ragnar some when Thistle dismissed the woman, ordering her from their borders. Who said he was done leading the Amazon woman on with his riddles? He had only gotten started. He suffered an ...unfortunate head injury and knows nothing of who he once was. Ragnar informed the Amazon. I would like to see you try to force him into leaving with you. If he knew the concept of money or had anything he could use as money he would have paid to see it.

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Gonna take my leave here. If you wanted to have more interaction, I can edit the departure out ^^ just let me know! Figured it was a good stopping point though

The woman was impudent, eyes flashing and teeth bared as she spoke words dripping malice. Manauia did not rile in response, for she knew them for what they were... mere words. A part of her wanted to tear the woman apart, show her what she, in turn, would be dealing with. But that was not her mission and wasting time here would not aid her. The longer she went without finding him, the colder the trail got. Already she was relying on her hunter's logic, but obviously it had not failed her. He had in fact been here.

It did not cross Manauia's mind that her prince might not want to return. How could he not? Surely he would see the error of his ways and come. She had been raised to know that her society was above all others and if that was true, no other home could have a powerful enough draw to keep an Amazon away for long. Tezcacoatl might be male, but his queen mother had decreed that he also was an Amazon, so an Amazon he was. They did not leave. They had no desire to.

Why he had therefore chosen to completely escaped the hunter, but she intended to find out. And when she did, she would put this stupidity to rest and take him back where he belonged. If what this male said was true, and he had lost his memories, then the chore would be harder. She would have to either force him to remember or force him to come with her. She needed her guardmates.

This conversation was getting her nowhere. She knew how he was, but not where, and the how mattered little to her. She would find that out soon enough when she found him. His mother would not be pleased that he had been injured, and it was likely that she and her fellows would be punished for it. Rightly so. If they had been swifter in their task it would not have happened. They needed to get back.

"It is clear to me that you do not have the information I seek. I am wasting precious time here. He will return with me, and you will not interfere." Casting cold eyes on them both, she turned, departing their borders as swiftly as she had come.

Thistle did not lessen her words or her tightly wound body. She may not be the worlds greatest fighter, but when it came to her children both blood and foster and step ,well she could do amazing things and she would. The other female may very well tear her apart, but she would get nothing from the fiery amber she wolf, nothing at all to where Tyrr was and she would fight until there was nothing left for her to do, but die. And she would be sure to take some of the female with her.

Thistle growled at the woman's hastly departed words. She would interfere if she had a mind too. She watched her leave and she herself turned to head back to the territory, irritated and anxious now for her step son. Granted, they did not get along the best, but he was still a part of her life. Her husband's son, therefore hers and she would respect that bond, and she would protect him if he needed it, not that he really did.

I'll go ahead and archive this! :3

Neither woman seemed inclined to stand down, and Ragnar hid his surprise as Thistle's outraged reaction behind a stoic mask well. He had never expected Thistle to feel so strongly about Tyrr, considering he had heard, from both sides, that their last encounters had not gone very well. Still, he wondered if it was actually Tyrr Thistle was concerned about or the fact that this woman was threatening to take away his freedom with her talk of taking him back anyway. However, Ragnar was not going to question it and simply let it go. The amazon told them clean cut that she was taking him back to his Queen mother and that they weren't going to interfere. Ragnar only smirked at the woman as she took her leave. He had no intentions of interfering in his eldest son's life, but he knew that despite her arrogance she probably would not get very far with Tyrr. The prince she had once known had been destroyed by Floki and Ragnar himself when they had spun their webs of a false life. There was nothing of her Tezcacoatl to dig back up. When the Amazon was out of sight he gestured with his muzzle for Thistle to follow and headed into deeper into Stavanger Bay.

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