Silvertip Mountain calling

Tonravik was eager to begin again, a phoenix reborn, better now for all of her errors, always learning, changing. Aguta accepted her, and she was relieved. They were strangers to this land, alone. Together they would build, add to the empire of Tartok and become native, a formidable force that none would think to challenge. A warm gust of breath was exhaled onto Aguta, pleased, perhaps even happy. And then she breaks free, true warmth a strange thing to a daughter so unused to love, affection. Respect, yes, protection, yes. Love? Tonravik had never been truly loved. Her recollection of Aguta's was scant and bare; for oftentimes after reception, her mother would coldly remind her that emotion was nonexistent, an idea. Her brothers, too, received this treatment; Siku would not have her treasures hurt or weakened. So emotion, truly, was something Tonravik could not fathom. Her expressions of it were physical and rough.

What has happened in my absence? She had spoken with Skyfall, briefly, who she had sent off in search of Toothless and then, to find more potential wolves of Tartok. He was eager to accept this mission, and so she knew he was gone. But she wondered about her inky companion, the protective shadow at her back. Perhaps he lurked in the crevices here. Tonravik was sure she would find him again, but it was not for her to know when.

But aside from that, what else had occurred? Who had Aguta seen, what had she heard?