Crush High

Her mention of other Nordic wolves appeared to bring some joy to the frost-faced youth, and Tuwawi nodded in affirmation that English was indeed the common tongue of this land. She empathized with him. For so long time as a child, Tuwawi had been lost in the wilderness. Once she had found Kindred — her home, her family — she felt connected. When the floods washed everything away, she had craved those past sentiments and a familiarity of a wolf who knew her home and culture. Thankfully, Njal and herself had found one another and new life bloomed.

Syver gently brushed his muzzle against her cheek in a gracious gesture, to return the hello, and told the story of his heritage. The Ironside's words were commonplace. Many lone wolves sought to carve a path for themselves and enrich their knowledge through travel, but a twist at the end caused the mother to abruptly blink. Syver's father had disowned him? Tuwawi couldn't fathom ever abandoning her children in such a manner. Jealously nor contempt would ever cause her love for them to wane. She frowned, approving of the Northern family's way of life, but kept harsher sentiments at bay. "I am sorry to hear that," she said, "you don't seem like you deserved such treatment." A young man coming into his own? How could he?

She was happy when Syver steered the conversation to a lighter course. "I was once the gamma of Swiftcurrent Creek," she informed him, "but soon I will be claiming the lands we stand on." She paused, realizing she had little fear when it came to informing others of the Sveijarn plans. Perhaps Syver would travel more, and word of their new pack would spread. "My family plans to travel here as soon as possible and we hope to be settled before the season cools. Perhaps you have some wisdom for me, Viking? Though my mate, Njal, comes from Northern roots similar to yours, I hail from the South. " She gave a small laugh, "I suppose this winter will be chilly, won't it?"