Sleeping Dragon you married an icarus, he has flown too close to the sun

The trip back to Sleeping Dragon with Snacha in tow didn’t take as long as she’d expect. The wounds on the back of her neck and leg ooze once in a while but she walks steady with her head held high. One disagreement isn’t enough to deter her, to cause doubt in the back of her mind she’s not as good as she knows herself to be. She’d rarely spent time alone in Seageda and the threat of another against her remained low. Here, she doesn’t have that luxury.

Thuringwethil takes the same path that led her around the mountain: through the geyser and up the path she’d run into Qet, but deviates from her original mistake. By the time the woman reaches her destination, she’s unable to hold back the limp of her right front leg. Any attempt of help @Snacha offers, Thuringwethil turns away. She feels the pain in every step until she’s barely putting any weight on it at all.  

Heda remains still even when her legs trembles beneath her weight, inhaling a sharp breath and releasing a howl for @Gyda. When her song ends, she eases back and plots down on her rump, finally giving in to her charge’s help.

I hope you don't mind the PP on Snacha's part. Let me know if you want me to change it.

Gyda had been making the necessary preparations for her trip south though in reality it wasn't as if she had anything to “prepare”. All that was left was to inform Thuringwethil of her plan and give a rough estimate of when she'd return though it would be hard to say for sure. She wanted to stop by Ragnar's grave at least once more, not to say goodbye for she'd already done that when she first discovered it. She would be too far away to keep any kind of regular eye upon it so the job would fall to those mysterious scents laced with her mother's own. Gyda could only assume that someone was tending it because it seemed undisturbed and kept; not to mention when things began to set into motion she would have less time for travel. Ragnar had rarely left Stavanger Bay's borders and when she had taken the helm of Odinn's Cove as it's Drottning despite that Dagrun stood beside her as her Jarl she had very rarely left the borders of her father's birth place. There was always something that needed her attention, a mother about to give birth, or a sparring lesson, or guests at their borders, those welcome and those unwelcome.

The title of Queen burdened a lot of responsibility but Gyda liked the purpose it gave her. She needed the weight of responsibility or else she simply ...wandered as she'd done up until she'd reunited with Thurin. Gyda's silver ears perked when the call for her rose and with haste the Scandinavian woman made her way to where her companion's howl had originated. She saw her soon, eyes of caribbean ice touching upon the dark woman's frame, and then moving to her unknown companion as Gyda drew nearer. “Thurin,” Gyda greeted her fellow soon-to-be queen with an affectionate nuzzle to her cheek before her eyes moved to the unknown girl. Her markings were unique — not like any kind Gyda had seen before. “Who is this?” She inquired, curious, though it was open for either of them to make the introduction.

Their journey hadn't been long, but it wasn't easy on the heda. Thuringwethil's injuries weren't obvious to Snacha at first, but as they walked, the leg and nape wounds began to ooze, and Thuring also began to limp. Snacha tried to help, offered her own shoulder as support, but the heda refused. It was only when they arrived upon the targeted mountain that she finally collapsed, allowing Snacha to sit beside her and lend her support on her uninjured side, raising her voice for another. The raccoon-wolf sat beside her heda, busying herself cleaning the wounds as best she could, worry eating at her heart and yet not showing too clearly upon her face. She had been trained to conceal emotion, and yet she was young still; some emotion was revealed in her eyes, in the set of her mouth, in the way she moved. In time these things would pass, but since she was not even a year's span old, they were not yet scrubbed from her.

Soon the wolf called for arrived, a woman quite unlike any Snacha had seen before, She wasn't tall or brawny, but she was regal and her coat floated as if on a breeze of its own. The sunlight sparkled off her silver coat and cast a halo of light about her. Snacha left Thuring's side reluctantly, but she could not kneel while also holding the heda upright. Though she herself was a warrior, this woman was a goddess, and Snacha had never met one before. She remained kneeling, head bowed and ears flicked back, tail tucked, waiting for instruction. As she hadn't been spoken to directly, she remained silent, eyes averted, waiting for Thuringwethil to introduce her bodyguard to the goddess before her.

girl-crush. /random

Just sitting is enough to ease some of the pain coursing her system, taking pressure off her leg to really evaluate the damage done. If she'd taken Gyda's advice and gone back to the mountain after the attack, the spin wouldn't be nearly as bed, but Thuringwethil had to finish her job and she'd come across Snacha. Perhaps their paths wouldn't have crossed if she had returned with her companion but as her eyes turn to the masked girl, she knew she would have been found regardless. The woman winced when she touches a tender spot on her leg, she bites back the urge to snip and eases a long breath through her muscle instead.

Thuringwethil notices Gyda's approach only when Snacha stops her care and her support is gone. Her dark grey eyes look up to see the ethereal woman approach. Her features soften briefly and leans into the tender kiss, closing her eyes in the comfort. Her companion steps back, leaving the warmth behind.

"Snacha," heda informs once asked, glancing to her second. She chuffs quietly to free her from her bow before swinging her attention back. "She is to be my second." The competition for the wolf to be at her side became null when Snacha turned out to be the only one to keep their word. The fate of the others remain uncertain should Thuringwethil ever decide to return. "She was meant to come to me in Seageda, but," she trails off, leaving the information open ended for Gyda to come to her own conclusion.

Thuringwethil takes a steady breath as she eases herself to stand, putting minimal weight on her injured leg.

"This is Gyda."

Awww, Snacha's girl crush is cuteeee! ;D Also most of this post is rambling fluff, lol

Gyda's attention moved from Thurin after she had taken her step back from the dark colored woman, coming to rest upon the girl with the strange markings. The stranger's eyes had been upon her, in what manner fell unknown to the viking queen but she could feel the weight of her gaze nevertheless. Whether this was the first time Gyda was admired or not could not be said, only that she had not truly paid much attention to it. Romance had never been in the cards for the shield-maiden. Her popularity among the vikings of Odinn's Cove had demanded that she usurp the tyrant at it's helm, and that was where her attention and focus had fallen: to the long days spent training with Dagrün and the longer nights flattering Váli, learning his weaknesses. They were not hard to find once she had them. He thought her weak because she was dainty. He thought her a pacifist because of her beauty. He thought her submissive because she was a woman. On all accounts he had been wrong but she had played them up, cunningly deceiving him to better her own odds. It had been ruthless but she had been raised by a barbaric legend...whom she had idolized. Whom she had loved.

There were many things that required her attention these days, and more to come in the days that would follow but Gyda was not alone in the burden of her title. Thurinwethil was her partner and this eased a great deal from the viking queen, offering her a moment to perhaps focus upon other things. Romance. Children. It did not escape Gyda's noticed that she would soon reach her sexual maturity, and that while she could likely have her pick from a pool of eligible suitors she did not seek a mate in a man. She had loved Ragnar and no other man. None had really caught her fancy as the man that had called himself her father. Perhaps she had harbored this ardor previous or perhaps it had been nurtured by Nerian's own attraction and love for the Northman until Nerian's feelings had became the (then) impressionable girl's own. She needed a male to have her children but she did not need a man to complete her.

Her thoughts were called back to present when Thuringwethil spoke a name to her, presumably the marked girl's name. When offered the information in regards to Thurin's second and that the girl was to go to Seageda but for obvious reasons had not, Gyda nodded her acknowledgment. Gyda's gaze assessed Snacha while Thurin introduced her. “Hello,” Gyda addressed her. “You were tending to Thurin's wounds when I approached, are you a healer?” Gyda inquired, curious. This was a trade she held in high esteem and while she had not learned very much of the trade before leaving with Nerian the trade reminded her of her mother.

It seemed the moment lasted a lifetime; Snacha remained kneeling before Gyda for a long time, breathing in her scent, basking in her presence, before she was finally spoken to. The girl looked up briefly, acknowledging the queen's presence, before looking away again. "Aye, I know a little. My mother taught me how to fis op. How to heal, you would say." Snacha then fell silent, not knowing what to say. It was not her place to prattle on and on about things, since she had not been spoken to again. She was a second; if her thoughts were to be known, Thuringwethil would ask for it, and Snacha would oblige. For now she would remain silent and observe the two women, and try to control the fluttering of her heart in her chest.

She had felt this way once before, but had thought it was simply adrenaline rushing through her body that made her stomach tie in knots. She still didn't truly understand what the fluttering meant, but Snacha did know that Gyda was a goddess, a beauty none could match, and though she was sworn as Thuring's second, she would do whatever Gyda asked of her -- as long as it did not interfere with her duties.

While the two speak to one another, Thuringwethil puts most of her weight on her left front leg. She still listens, knowing Gyda has her concerns about her leg, but she’s sure the girl can keep the infection at bay enough that her body would fight the rest off. She’d requested warriors for her draft, with a handful of other small talents. None of the three she’d selected were all similar and it is a shame the rest hadn’t showed their faces at her doorstep already. Perhaps her connection to Trigeda could remain, even in distance.

Thuringwethil abandons the thought, glancing back to her companion to see her reply. Gyda’s own talents were mostly unknown to the dark leader. She knew the woman could fight, it had been proven time and again but they often spoke of other things when together. That will change in the days to come as they claim something together. Their time together would be limited to business, at least for a while, and a shadow hides the frown that’s settled into her dark features.

“Good,” Gyda spoke to Snacha, offering the girl a warm smile. She had once held a high ambition to study the art of healing as her mother had mastered it, once upon a time infatuated with the idea of patching up rough, war torn warriors like Ragnar had been. Yet as the shield-maiden had grown older she realized that such a desire had been fleeting. She held the trade in high esteem — just as she always would — but it no longer fit in with who she'd became. She was not that innocent little girl playing hide and seek with her brothers. She was a shield-maiden. She was a warrior and a queen. She had killed. It was only one and only to liberate the wolves of the Cove yet it counted. Her aspirations had changed, had grown with her. “My mother was is a celebrated healer. I hold the trade in the highest of esteems.” They were all important, and she respected the warrior and guardian just as much. 

Her attention turned from Snacha then to Thuringwethil where it rested for the time being. “Was the introduction the reason for the call? Or was there something more?” Gyda inquired, wanting to make sure that Thuringwethil's reason for calling her did not go by the way side in their conversation, or if the introduction had been it (in which case their conversation could continue).

So laaaaame. Sorry! Please feel free to skip me since Snacha is like.. boring. :P 

Snacha withered beneath Gyda's gaze, though the goddess was paying her a compliment. Snacha was young and inexperienced, and as such didn't know what to do now. Did she say something else to her? Comment on her mother's healing abilities? Snacha didn't know her and didn't know if what Gyda said was true (though she assumed it was), and in her home when there was nothing to pertinent to say, one didn't say anything at all. So instead Snacha simply returned to caring for heda's wounds while the pair talked. She was used to being talked over as if she didn't exist; as a second it was important to be a silent presence in meetings such as this, where information might be relayed and need to be remembered, but her presence was merely for listening only, not participating.

I'm going to go ahead and wrap it up. :)

She’s glad the two females were getting along and her companion is accepting of the wolf she’d brought home. Snacha couldn’t have been far on her trail to come so soon after stopping and her dedication takes value. It’s only an added bonus it goes smoothly as they speak to one another, just before Gyda returns her attention to Thuringwethil.

The dark woman shakes her head for another purpose. They had plenty to discuss, whether or not her newest charge happened to be there next to her. Night would be upon them soon as the sun begins to dip below the mountain tops. There is a lot of work in the next few days and this night they would rest once more.