Quetzalcoatl gave a moment of pause, crystalline gaze staring out of her lashes as she looked about these Southern lands through heavy lidded eyes. How dearly she missed her Rise, this winter tame in comparison to the harsh terrains and winters that she was used too. In comparison this place was warmer despite the loosely packed snow that blanketed the lands. Being away from her Rise arose an instinctual unease within the reigning Queen but this ...this was important. It was necessary. A light rain had begun to fall at some point, dampening the chocolate fur that wrapped around her elegant frame, carried upon long legs. There was only one thing in the world that could ever whisk her away from her pack, from her loyal women, though this trip was hardly permanent. Her departure from Coatl's Rise was meant to be temporary, and hardly the first time a Reigning Queen had gone off on a predesignated outrider trip so far from her lands.
Him. Her spawn, her beautiful baby boy. Tezcacoatl. She had allowed him to run off on his fool's errand, allowed him to take his trip under a single condition: he take his royal guard with him. Quite the assemble of her very best so that he may never want even in the troughs of being a loner. She had never considered him a loner, he still and always would have a home within the Rise so long as she drew breath. He was to be her Successor, the Prince of the Amazons. Never had Quetzalcoatl ever thought, growing up, that she would be the one to break the traditions that had kept their Rise strong through the centuries. Yet, as she lay in the wake of giving birth, to hear Eztli hiss that the child, her only child, was a boy Quetzalcoatl had been filled with nothing but curiosity opposed to the disgust that her midwife had so obviously felt.
And when she'd first laid eyes upon him, his fur damp with the juices of the protective sack he'd been in, broken by Etzli, the color of damp earth, the silver streak under each eye — a spitting, masculine, tiny and fragile image of herself she had felt nothing but the warmth and ferocity of love for him. “I am sorry my Queen. I will take him to one of the salves' surrogates. Five will take good care of him, teach him the ways of men,” Etzli had murmured in a hushed tone, Quetzalcoatl could remember, clearly. Five, the “name” of the slave that she had chosen to be her partner to create this perfect little child, strong, handsome and strapping as Five'd been. Tezcacoatl would have been taken care of, Five would have seen to it, but when Etzli had reached for her baby Quetzalcoatl had snapped at her, teeth closing around the other woman's muzzle, scraping into flesh. “Leave!” It was the first time Quetzalcoatl had risen her voice at Etzli — whom had eventually became the Priestess of Tezcacoatl's guard, his instructor in the Gods and rituals.
Despite how very wrong it was, Quetzalcoatl had not been able to give him up. For her son, she would have readily tore down the heavens stone by stone and challenged the Gods personally. A wise woman had once told her that there was nothing more fierce and beautiful than a mother's love for her children, and Quetzalcoatl believed it, despite how readily she had scoffed at it as a mere girl.
Inhaling the crisp scent she searched for the one that, faint as it had been, led her this far. It was mixed, not nearly as discernible as it had once been to her, but everything within her told her that she was not mistaken. That it was Tezcacoatl. His journey had only been meant to be a few months at most, and when she'd heard, from the boast of a delirious swine of a Viking, Váli she believed his name was though why he had a name was beyond her. If she were his mother she'd have called him “Pig” and tossed him off the cliffs into the sea where all filthy and uncultured, arrogant men belonged, that he knew where her son was. Quetzalcoatl would not have so readily believed him if not for the fact that she had not heard from any of Tezcacoatl's guard since he'd been gone and her concern had grown more and more, festering within her like an open wound. She trusted her Prince's life in their paws, but the updates had ceased, the messengers had shown up deceased and brutally marred. The messengers were replaceable, of course, as slaves and it was not concern for their deaths that had forced her into taking action. It was concern for her most loyal and Tezcacoatl.
Her eyes had closed all together for a long while as she lingered on the memory of her son when he'd been but a suckling newborn, the memory warm and bittersweet given the gravity of what may or may not weigh like a sword above her head. She would not return to Coatl's Rise until she learned the truth, or found her son. It was her promise, not as a Queen but as a mother. Having taken a long enough break, the Amazon Queen stretched and continued forward, crossing the threshold into the place they called the Teekon Wilds, swift and alert.