Duskfire Glacier sorrow by name and sorrow by nature

Gyda noted his eagerness when she spoke her name to him, studying him once more, trying to deduce if she knew him before. He was not one of her wolves from Odinn's Cove that much she did know. She had known the vikings that inhabited it and it's sister Freyja's Moor very well; and though there might have, perhaps, been a smidgen of familiarity to him she drew no conclusive remembrances of every meeting him prior. He spoke to her in words that she knew, recognized from her frequent visits to Thuringwethil before her ascension to the helm of the Cove (and perhaps Thurin's rise to Heda?) had localized their meetings to being less informal and more business. Dagrun had never agreed with Gyda's fascination with the Heda; but then again her uncle would rather be a lone berserker as opposed to having an ally. His belief had been old and, in Gyda's mind, wrong (but she was a bit biased). It had been her closeness with Heda that had inspired their alliance despite that now she saw no need for alliances with the other and numerous packs of the Teekon Wilds.

“Seageda,” Gyda spoke the name of Thuringwethil's past home aloud and gave a dip of her head in acknowledgment. “It is good to meet you,” The viking queen spoke sincerely. “You are far from home,” Gyda observed. “What brings you to the Teekon Wilds?” She inquired with a small cant of her head.