Frostfire Ridge the blood that runs through my veins is ichor not iron

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Thyri shifts her weight, brown, sharp needles that have fallen free from the towering evergreens of the Ridge’s forest crunching beneath her weight. It is a sharp, poignant scent but above it she can pick out his scent — lone with faint traces of others. Nothing consequential from what she can tell. He is lone, like her. Her ears perk, alert for a moment as somewhere in the forest an evergreen lets out a creak of protest. It holds her attention fleetingly but her gaze does not rise off of him. She takes a deep breath, thinking that it is just the breeze and an archaic evergreen and that he has not alerted a mountain lion or worse to their presence. It may be Summer with plentiful prey to assuage the hungry belly of a lone wolf but she is still lone and she is not seeking a fight. With another predator or a fellow lupine. If she were to be wounded she does not know how to heal beyond the bare basic measures — that a pregnant Gyda had unwaveringly and emotionally insisted upon — and Thyri could not afford recovery time. There was no pack to hunt for her. Her advantage, she knows, is that her temper is not fly-away like Eske’s. It is the kind that seethes and brews. Patience has always been a virtue of her’s. Her ears flutter back to rest at half mast atop her skull, following the elegant curves of her crown as he repeats the alias she has given him back to her placing emphasis upon it’s pronunciation. SkaðI is not a particularly hard name to pronounce for those who are not used to the elongated vows and harsh rolls of the tongue that her mother’s native tongue demands. “Yes, Skahd-ee.” She repeats with a terse and reluctant approval. The champagne and cremé warrior does not wish to be idle here any longer. She shifts her weight again. He has made too much noise for her personal taste, especially when she favors stealth and feels too exposed. Not to mention, Sleeping Dragon is nothing but ruins — a possibly graveyard for wolves she has once loved and she suddenly seeks to put distance between the territory and the memories it drudges up and herself.

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