Whitebark Stream every hurricane gets its name from a girl like this

Staying near the mountain had been understood when Gyda left for a few days and for Snacha to remain near by, early in the morning, Thuringwethil disappeared from the shared cave. The sun rises behind her, slowly warming her black fur, but it isn’t enough to take the chill off. The wind is quiet, occasionally whipping by but for the most part remains stagnant. Cold seeps through her fur, sending a chill through her body that shakes out through her tail.

Thuringwethil doesn’t feel the lone wolf that attacked her would be coming back any time soon but her steps are tentative when she comes upon the stream. There’s a disturbance in the snow where the scuffle had taken place but dirt and blood are covered by a new blanket of snow from the night before. If she noses through the mess, she’s sure she can uncover what little they left behind but for now it’s a bumpy section of ground.

The stream has frozen over in the narrow spots and opens up a small portion at the fork where she can lower and take a drink. The water is cold to her insides, sending a shiver down her spine and adding an extra chill from her stomach.

@Reek.

Rarely did Reek ever leave the confines of his borders nowadays. His wanderer's spirit had up and died with Saena and Scarlett's horrible injuries. There was far too much to worry about inside the territory; the influx of new members and the pressure of keeping Scarlett alive, alongside the basic stresses of running a pack filled Reek with worry. It gripped him tightly, more than it had ever before.  His drooping eyelids told a familiar story. One of exaustion and brokenness.

He found it easy to nap, but proper sleep was hard to come by.  Over-exertion had begun to take it's heavy toll, but Reek refused to give in to his body and mind's pleading and instead soldiered on by following a single trail of deer tracks in the snow.  A piss-poor hunter by his own admittance, Reek was ill equipped to bag a deer on his own, but perhaps the trail would lead him to a herd to which he could alert the rest of the pack for later.  

The trail led him north, past the borderline and toward the Whitebark Stream, where it abruptly ended at it's fridged banks.  "Fuck," he whispered after seeing the tracks disappear into the water, unaware of an unfamiliar wolf within earshot. Finding where the trail resumed could take a while and Reek found frustration in this set back.

The blow of the wind is in her favor, bring a scent of another to her nose just as she sees the wolf. He’s dark in color with peppering of white and he’s lost in his own thoughts as he follows something—Thuringwethil looks closer to see the tracks beneath his nose—and comes to a stop several yards down the stream. The tracks disappeared and she looks on the other side of the stream where they do not pick up and she hums to herself in consideration where they could have gone.  She narrows her eyes and begins to travel down the length of the bank.

Thuringwethil is hesitant in her approach—the last male she came upon tried to kill her—but there’s at least the frozen stream between them but it isn’t enough to guarantee her safety.  The woman chuffs quietly and adjusts her posture to something relatively neutral. Other scents that don’t seem to belong to him waft in her direction and she can only assume he belongs to another. She’d been here several days without meeting another pack wolf but it’s a matter of time, according to Gyda, with a packs to their southern borders. 

In a wanting frenzy, Reek's eyes scanned the snowswept terrain in the hopes of finding where the trail resumed.  Eventually, his eyes settled across the river on a thin trail of hoof-prints in the snow. From there the trail was solid, but a natural barrier seperated him from his dinner.  The stream seperating him from his prey was topped with a thin sheet of ice.  With a testing step, Reek placed a forepaw on the ice and pressed down.  It gave way into the fridged water running beneath his foot.  He cursed inwardly, knowing there was no way to cross.

Due to the numbing cold acting on his sense of smell, he hadn't caught Thuringwethil's scent. Her chuff caught him by surpise, causing him to stagger backwards from the water. Shaking the loose snowfall from his pelt, Reek looked to the stranger; though she kept her body low, he could see she carried herself with strength. There was a commanding air around this stranger.

Reek smiled. There were no need for squabbles over dominance outside of his territory, so the alpha of the maplewood regarded the stranger warmly. "Oh, hey!" he spoke. "You don't suppose there's a way to cross this thing without absolutely ruining my day, do you?"

The wolf finally notices her but not before she spies the tracks he’d been following on the other side. Dark eyes follow the path until she can’t see where they go anymore. It takes a moment to bring her attention back despite the other talking to her but her tail waves just slightly to show she’s paying attention. Looking back over the stream, she glances up a little ways as if she is searching for a place he could cross but she ultimately shakes her head with a grim expression.

“No,” she tells him eventually and shrugs her shoulders.  “You’ll get soaked either way, I think,” The spot even she’d crossed over looks risky but she had a little help. 

Thuringwethil moves downward to meet the wolf though she doesn’t attempt to cross the stream. It doesn’t end any time soon and it’s already broken apart and led elsewhere.  “If it makes you feel any better,” she begins, “I watched a cougar shred apart a deer and the herd disappeared after that.” She glances back to him with a frown to see whether or not he takes her word.

He had such high hopes, but the answer that came from across the river squandered them fast. So much time had been wasted following this fools errand to only be stopped by the icy grip of winter itself. Reek snorted with displeasure; a thin and whispy plume of warm breath followed in it's wake. Once more, he cast his eyes low and looked down at the thin layer of ice that seperated him from his next meal. He was a risk-taker by nature, but Reek knew what battles to fight. A fight with hypothermia was one he would not win.

The stranger from across the frozen stream drew ever closer and continued on, further discouraging Reek from pursuit of the herd. Of course, he couldn't rust her— she was but a stranger, and Reek expected no such kindness from someone he did not know. That wasn't how the world worked, he thought. More-so, he had begun to think this way as of late.

"That doesn't really help," admitted Reek with a subtle twinge of distaste. "I mean, thanks though." If the cougar that had mauled Scarlett remained in the area, her word could have been true. Reek wasn't willing to take that chance now that two of his pack members relied solely on him.

"You from around here?" he asked after a beat. It was rare to see another wolf this far north who wasn't activly looking for a home.

Sorry you get a short phone post :o

Thuringwethil shrugs in response, brushing it off. If the herd is gone--in the other wolf's mind--he won't have to cross the stream and risk his health. How that isn't helpful, she doesn't dwell on, but it sits weird in her stomach for only a moment. He shows whatever appreciation he can muster and she brushes it off, watching him across the distance. It isn't too far of a jump or swim in the warmer months but the risk is far too high in the winter. Higher up the stream, however, might be easier to cross and she doesn't bother to lead him that way.

"In a way, yes," she decides. "I have claimed Sleeping Dragon with my companion, Gyda." The young leader turns her nose behind her to the volcanic mountain behind her. There had been no signs of activity thus far and she's assumed it safe to take. In the future, their plans may change, but for now and through the rest of winter it is their home. "My name is Thuringwethil. What of you?"

Her name was long and full of syllables.  "Thuring— Thurr... whatever," stumbled Reek in an ineloquent jumble, trying, and failing to pronounce the stranger's name.  Given the proper practice, Reek would have been able to make a solid effort, but he didn't feel as if he had the time to have Thuringwethil guide him through the pronunciation.  Instead, Reek proceded with his own introduction.

Respectfully, he dipped his thread to the alpha across the river. "I'm Reek," he replied with his simple, single syllabic name.  "— and I guess this makes us neighbors."  He wasn't quite sure how he felt about a pack laying down roots so close to his own just yet.  Comptetion for resources, especially now during winter, ruled his mind.  

Reek's tone turned serious, but it wasn't aggresive.  It was time to talk business. "I lead a pack along with my mate just south of here.  The hunting lands beneath the Qeya River are ours, the rest is fair game for you."  It seemed to be a square deal in his mind. "Fair?" he asked with a lifted brow.

Thuringwethil's name doesn't mimic the majority of her wolves where they were easy and short. A few small families through the clans had something a little more intricate and for the first few months of her life, others not of her own family struggled. The day she had been chosen for the next commander, her name became commonplace among them. Hearing someone slaughter her name sends a tickle up the back of her neck and she has to remember that they are not her wolves. The male across the river doesn't have a clue.

He goes on, explaining the pack he'd come from. One of their leaders. The irritation built up doesn't ease but she feels a weird sort of relief to meet the other so soon. They could push some business out of the way, at least, but she doesn't feel threatened even when he lays down his suggested proposal.

"That seems fair," she decides after a moment of consideration. She doesn't know what else lays beyond this stream but she knows what's north and east of her own mountain and the promise that lays before them to keep their stomachs fed. The herd she has deterred from the dark male would have been theirs anyway, based on their agreement. "Where is your home?"

After a moment of careful consideration, an agreement was reached between the two parties. Their verbal contract withholding. Thuringwethil proposed no further terms and Reek saw fit to end their agreement there, rather than divvey out a list of demands and letting theri agreement descend into hopeless ambiguity.  

"Good. Good," he affirmed with a curt nod of his head.  "I'll make sure the rest of my pack understands the terms of our agreement." There would be no trouble, he was sure. The wolves of the Maplewood tended to stay to themselves in a state of pseudo-isolationism. Reek preferred it this way after the Redhawk Fiasco back at Redtail Rise.

"My pack lies directly to the south of here, in a maplewood. You'll smell us if you get close, but I'd advise against it. We'll keep our distance from you as well." His view of other packs had changed drastically since he allied the Rise with the wolves of Nova Peak. Now, he trusted few.

The dark leader nods her head. She’d do the same, informing the wolves back on the mountain of the agreement and Gyda upon her return. She silently hopes Gyda makes a swift pass by the pack on her way back, unsure of the direction she’d really be coming from. Her scent will not be of Sleeping Dragon anymore but that doesn’t mean she won’t make mention, letting her intentions known without knowing what she could be getting into. 

She can’t ask for much more than what Reek has laid out and she nods her head. They would keep their distance and, without offering the same threat in return, they would not come near Sleeping Dragon without reason. A neutral relationship between the nearest pack is the most she can currently hope for. A chance for them to solidify their claim before opinions were made about each other. 

Whether or not their relationship blossomed to anything in particular, Thuringwethil had been used to a certain understanding between the warriors she commanded and the wolves in neighboring clans. They had their own leaders they answered to but the heda commanded them all. 

“I am to return,” she tells the other leader, pivoting back a step to speak over her shoulder, “have a good evening, Reek.”

Thuringwethil moves away, returning the way she’d come. The tracks led away from the stream up into her territory are not forgotten. She will search for them later in the proposed direction they’d gone and lead her wolves to their first hunt.

Off to the Archives!

With deal done, the other leader turned to take her leave. Reek bid Thuringwethil farewell with a parting nod and said, "You do the same."  He remained rooted to the spot as she walked away, and with curious eye he watched as she slipped away into the distance, becoming nothing more than a black speck situated on a neat blanket of white.

When she finally passed the threshold of vision, Reek turned away from the frozen river and began abling back home, emptyhanded.