Sleeping Dragon They will never even find what is left of you

¡ WARNING !
This post was written during sleepy times, read at your own risk.

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Not a word of hate left the pale crone's mouth the moment she was asked to leave the range. She would have damned them all if she had desired, the curmudgeon wasn't one to hold back her tongue, but no ill feelings came to her at her dismissal. She had been given an order, and by the oath she'd taken upon requesting residence with the Zeneth wolves she had no choice but to obey. However, that did not mean Uleön had liked any of it at all.

It was usual when new blood came to sit so high above in so little time. The new lady had her own ways, and Nalazath was not around anymore to ensure the seasoned crone's contract. He battled his way to an early grave, the ambitious lord; but he had kept his father's word to house Uleön in return for her services. She had never faltered, not once, and her counsel became a of great value for the old Kezeoth with the years. Then his son took his mantle, along with Uleön's advise. But none of that mattered, not anymore. Uleön was once again free from ties to a pack, which only meant she had to find a place to survive the only way she knew. She wouldn't take any chances, she wouldn't wait for the sun to rise before leaving like she had been instructed, so she set foot under the stars, long hours before the dawn.

It was hardly noticeable, but as soon as the sun painted the sky in shades of blue Uleön caught sight of a smoke column. She blinked and squinted at the distant image, and only after confirming she hadn't imagined it she took it for a sign. Her steps took her west, her nose pointing always at the smoke. Not even half a day had gone by before the Crone found herself at the foot of the mountain spitting the grey column out of it's peak. 'A waking dragon' she thought. Dragons rose for few, and whoever was riding this one would get Uleön's oath.

Her raspy voice rose in a tired howl, then she waited. Her call would soon get attention, and if the lord of this land was proud he would surely attend it himself. That was all Uleön needed, from there it was only going to get easier.

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EDIT: forgot to tag omg @Thuringwethil

Her ears swivel forward upon the call and there’s a fleeting moment where she thinks it might be someone she knows once again. There’s purpose behind the howl but it doesn’t trigger any recognition. While she’d not noticed Toxochely’s voice, it’s not impossible the wolf on the other side of her borders is someone she knows. The wolves back in Trigeda know of her presence, and where to find her, and their invitation have been cleared should they want to rejoin their former legacy. Those that have shown up have been given a sort of pride to once more be rejoined with their Heda.

It does not take long for her to find the source and from the distance she notices the older woman, she knows she does not recognize her. With a sharp inhale of breath, Thuringwethil lifts her head, straightens her shoulders, and arches her tail tight above her spine. A moment later, she’s set in her usual slow swagger in her approach and a brow arched high in question.

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It wasn't a long wait for Uleön, who was met by a tough looking female shortly after she called. The old crone sought her eyes immediately, and after identifying the dull shade in them she shifted her gaze away to avoid misconceptions. She was not going to defy anyone today, no, she had to earn that right with time. Instead of lingering on her eyes, her own mahogany ones inspected her strong frame and scarred skin. Impressive a sight.

"Uleön," offered the older woman with a flat tone. "The Dragon inside your mountain compels me," she admitted, pointing with her long snout at the peak, and the grey column of smoke coming out of it. "Is there fire?" asked the crone curiously, wondering whether there was dangerous activity in the volcano. Often smoke meant nothing more than smoke, but it was always a good idea to be cautious around a sleeping beast as such.

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The older woman doesn't keep her waiting, introducing herself with her name and some fake purpose about being drawn to her home. For a moment, she considers the other to be insane but before she completely writes her off, Thuringwethil presses for a little more. She closes the distance and then glances up at the stream of smoke coming from the top where she can't currently see.

"Not while I'm here," she says and swings her bead back around to face the other. She's able to properly examine what she can see standing before her. Most of the wolves at her borders are young, or in their prime, that it comes as a surprise for one that seems to carry more age than most. Not one to fully discredit someone based on how old or young they are, she waits to find out her purpose before sending her on her way. "And just what does my beast compel you to do?"

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Uleön had found a proud leader, it seemed, confident on her power over the mountain and it's beast. 'Very well' thought the crone, that was something she could work with, polish if needed, fueled when convenient. Nalazath had been the same, and for three years Uleön had  done wonderful work.

The dark female started the interview then, and Uleön's own confidence came afloat with her first question. "To serve it," she stated with the same rasp to her old voice, "and it's masters," she added solemnly.

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The woman gives her a brief answer but one she likes to hear, assuming it’s not connected some illusion that the beast beneath her feet is anything but what the earth has created. The fear of the smoke at the top turning into anything more than it is has yet to exist or cause room for concern—she’s certain they can escape quickly enough in the face of danger.

“This is Sleeping Dragon,” she introduces then, a name appropriate for a beast as she holds down. “We are Drageda here. If you are willing to learn our ways, you will be welcome, and when you prove yourself to us, you will become Drageda too.”

Without the consideration of her former queen, and the dynamic they had, Thuringwethil is able to make decisions without a second thought. The Heda’s spirit does not often lead her wrong, as long as she makes the correct interpretation, and intercepting new followers is no different. She doesn’t have to worry about them accepting two different cultures, even if the vikings will remain an influence, Drageda will be born again.

“I am Heda Thuringwethil,” she finally says, nose tilting a fraction higher. “What can you bring to us?”

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A smile almost formed across the crone's face when the dark female introduced the mountain. A name fits it's owner, a sleeping beast, a dragon. Of course, the old woman understood that the smoke came from the earth rather than a living creature, but who was to say the earth is not a living creature?

Drageda was not a name she heard before, it had a nice sound to it, a fierce one. It had been the same back then when she joined the Zeneth in the Range, a group with their own ways. Uleön was not tied to any beliefs and had no political alignments, she lived to serve her home and it's leaders just how she had stated, and the she would regardless of the course that put her on.

"I will learn your ways," the crone stated firmly, not much else needed be said in the moment, but loads would come as she went on with the Drageda. She probably had a lot to learn, and she would likely find things not to like, but that was part of being a Sage of Eldfell. That was part of her life.

She bows her head when the chieftess introduces herself as Heda, clearly a title denoting her leadership. "I can offer the only thing old wolves can offer. My knowledge of the world comes from experience and long years of studies at Eldfell. I can serve as a healer if need be, and take care of those who need it. See me as a governess if you want, or an aide if that's what you'd prefer. I will be what Sleeping Dragon and my Heda need me to be," she spoke in a voice so calm it would seem she was running out of air. But she vowed to that, and word was sacred to Uleön.

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It does not surprise her that the woman has many things she can offer. Age is on her side in that aspect and she seems capable enough and over time she'll be able to determine her worth should the other be able to keep her word. Thuringwethil nods and then takes a step back to pivot toward the way she'd come, an obvious invitation into her home.

"Welcome," she says and gives the other a chance to approach. Once they set off, she finds herself with her own questions. "What is Eldfell?" she muses with a slight tilt of her head.

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Uleön moves on lazily when the Heda sets the path. She had not expected to come to find a new place to serve in so little time, not even a day after being cast away from the Zeneth Range. Perhaps it was a good sign, maybe this place really needed her services and she was obliged to provide them.

"Eldfell is a school, of course," spoke the crone in a proud tone. She looked up at the Heda respectfully and elaborated, "we Sages are an order of scholars, masters of Botany, Geology and Astronomy. We are Medics, Midwives, Mentors and Advisers. We are the knights of the mind," she claimed, quoting one of her own mentors, "and Eldfell is our canon," she added, feeling a rush of nostalgia and pride. Her years in Eldfell had been tough, full of self doubt and second thoughts, she was leaving a lot behind, things that any wolf would want and cherish, but in the end Uleön had found her path among the Sages of Eldfell, a solemn order. Uleön's eyes trailed away from Thuringwethil, and on to the world around them admiringly.

"Once a Sage masters it's chosen Trade they're sent out to find a place to put their studies to practice," Uleön explained, "We vow to build no families or bear any children, and we leave any alignments other than that to Eldfell behind. Once we find that place we're bound to serve in it for life, or until we're asked to leave, regardless of any changes in leadership or directions." she finished to meet the Heda's eyes once more, a quick glance, and hoped none of what she'd revealed threatened the Drageda ways.

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The system of Eldfell confuses her and gives her more questions than she originally had but perhaps she can benefit from the woman more than she expected. If there had been some affiliation with this school, then it would be less of a conflict, but perhaps it’s something from this area she simply hadn’t come across. Seageda and Trigeda are farther north. Even if their geography answers some of her questions, she’s still left with a few.

However, it doesn’t sound too far from the way Drageda works, except they mold the wolves in their trades to best fit their own. The assistance of others does little to benefit them but she can be thankful for this gift. Thuringwethil doesn’t think it’ll be too hard for the woman to integrate into Drageda life.

“You will do well here,” she manages to say, realizing they may have had similar teachings and a comfort in that but she’s given a wave of guilt when she thinks of Wildfire. Lying to everyone, including herself, and she’s unsure of the weight that holds her back. Her eyes close for a moment as she walks, taking in a breath and then setting her gaze forward, she asks: “What trade did you master in?”

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It was unlikely that a Sage's services were ever rejected. Eldfell's system was designed to leave it's students free from any ties, making them the perfect agents for objective guidance and ample adaptability. Uleön gives away a quick grin, she had been given the Heda's blessing, and that was all the crone could ask for in her first day of serving.

"All Sages have to study the basics of pack management and administration," started the blood-eyed crone, "But I have my mastery on Psychology and Warcraft. I can serve as an adviser or therapist, and I spent a year studying to be a war tactician," she informed, looking proud of the titles she'd earned along her way. "I didn't finish my studies in fertility, but I know enough to be a decent midwife," she added, fully believing in her capacities. All the while Uleön had kept at the Heda's right side, only a step behind.

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The more the woman spoke, the more intrigued Thuringwethil became. If she hadn't been sure on taking her in before, she knows she is now. The school she speaks of leaves her wanting to know more, if she could investigate it, but she doesn't press the matter just yet. In time, she's sure she'll learn just as much about Uleön as Uleön will of her and her own. Not wanting to overload her just yet, she remains quiet and contemplative as the other speaks and she makes their way to the meeting spot.

"It is good for us to excel in more than one skill, but we all have our primary job and that is how you will be integrated into Drageda. I'm interested to know what you consider your best skill," she explains. Uleön has mentioned a handful and some already sounds like she's better at than others, but nonetheless the last bit of information catches her attention a beat later. "One of our own has recently given birth to four puppies, nearly a month ago," she explains, thinking fondly of the little dragons.

By the time she's finished talking, the ledge is in view. She's been here more lately, with the meeting and introducing the newer wolves, but an important place to remember. The tree on the left remains strong and the tree on the right leans a little more, and the drop is just as deadly as always. "This is where we congregate for meetings. We don't all sleep in one place but we do sleep within earshot of one another. Except the whelping den is separated until they are old enough."

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Pleased to have more than just one talent, the pale Sage nods in acceptance of Thuringwethil's terms. Drageda worked in a particular way, and if Uleön wanted to become, she would first have to obey. Whatever it took for her to go on she would oblige, but picking a job was not even close to a sacrifice. "I can help with the pups and their mother if needed, but advisory is my fort," she explained, giving away a solemn nod in symbol of respect. She would need to earn herself a reputation first if she aspired to ever help the Heda deal with the deeper aspects of pack management, but she was determined.

By that point they's reached the edges of what the Heda explained to be the pack's meeting place, a rock ledge of deadly aspect guarded by two millennial trees, one on each side. Uleön observed, but didn't approach the edge for obvious reasons. "I shall find myself a place, then. Close to you, Heda." she said and smiled gratefully at the dark warrior-queen, waiting to be dismissed.

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The older woman explains her intentions and Thuringwethil nods her head, not necessarily feeling one way or the other about it. If she proves herself and works her way up, learn the culture, she’d be pleasantly surprised, but for now she’ll let time tell itself. With nothing left to discuss, she gives the woman the go ahead to learn her new home.