Sleeping Dragon Onyx

since her arrival at the dragon, Portia had gotten much better at actually paying attention to the pack. normally, the lack of an alpha's presence along the borders wouldn't have phased her, but Heda's disappearance was alarming. she didn't search, assuming someone knew where she had gone, but she certainly wasn't happy that the rest of the pack's scent was around the territory. 

today, however, Thuringwethil's scent was strong, and Portia-- in excitement-- let out a yip, dropping the herb in her mouth. she scrambled to pick it back up and then moved quickly to track down her Heda, her tail wagging quickly and mind wandering. was she okay? she didn't smell blood, surely she was okay? Portia worried anyway, her little legs propelling her towards her leader, wherever she was. 

Having kept to herself since she’d return except for the company of her mate and occasionally a straggler that stops by, she turns to find Portia bounding to her. Thuringwethil gives her a smile and wave of her tail, washing away the looming feeling something is wrong. She’d talked to Wildfire a little about it but she isn’t sure her mate understands, or if anyone else would. Tanja and Chessur, perhaps, or Gavriel or Gyda but neither of them are here. Brushing it off, she takes a step forward to close the distance between herself and the skayona, wagging her tail over her spine once they are close enough.

“Portia,” she calls. She’d grown into a well-adjusted member of Drageda and a bubbling relationship with Dio. She does not mention it, uncertain what she is and isn’t supposed to know, but finds a fondness for the woman regardless.

and there she was! Portia moved full speed towards the woman, skidding to a stop and falling to a play-bow for half a second before straightening up and dipping her head, panting. "oh thank the stars-- i thought you'd left and gotten stolen! God forbid-- i know you're capable of handling yourself but that nasty grotto... if they'd ganged up..." she trailed off, shaking her head. she was rambling, and the skayona knew that Thuringwethil had better things to do than listen to her patchy-self ramble. "never mind! you're alive and well! i'm relieved to see you, ma'am," she said, a wide smile gracing her features, tail wagging. 

"it's none of my business," she continues slowly, "but where did you go?" 

Thuringwethil expects worry to come from Wildfire, especially as of late, but to hear the concern from Portia comes as a comforting thought. It hadn't been her intention but the explanation does not come forth freely. Instead, she offers a sheepish smile and wave of her tail over her spine. Even the comment of the grotto leaves a smile upon her face, knowing that even if they'd banded together, they could not stop her. The thought remains in the silence of her head and she dips her nose once in appreciation of Portia's care.

"I was on the coast for a few days," she says, feeling a turn in her stomach that urges her forward. "Sometimes, the former commanders of our ways will speak to me through my dreams and I have been struggling to interpret them. I had gone to clear my head," she adds though it is still vague. The weight of something bad happening adds the world to her shoulders and her smile slowly fades away.

"the coast," Portia echoed, her ears perking curiously. it'd been a while since she'd been on the coast, especially since she'd joined Drageda. she wondered if it was warmer than it was here on the mountain, if there was still snow on the ground. it was kind of fun to picture her Heda walking along a tropical shore eating pineapples and cooling off in clear waters... though she somehow doubted it was any different than here.

but now she was intrigued, more with Thuringwethil's mention of dreams. not many wolves admitted so readily to having dreams like that, and not many wolves actually believed them either. Portia herself would certainly listen to her own dreams, but hers were boring and usually consisted of normal wolf stuff-- not many opportunities to wake up in a hot sweat and realize that something needs to be done. "you're the first leader of Drageda-- aren't you?" she asked, tail waving, "i mean-- the other commanders must come from Seageda, yes?" 

Portia does not press further about the coast and Thuringwethil is thankful for she isn’t sure she has any more answers to give. Clearing her head had been an attempt to try and make sense of what has been going on there, lingering in the back of her mind. She’d been able to lure it out of hiding but she’s far from grasping it and what feels like a blur needs to clear up sooner rather than later if she’s going to go day after day feeling like this.

“Seageda is within us and will continue to be, as long as we are here.” Us. In her and Tanja and Chessur and everyone that has come and gone from her home. Of course, she knows it isn’t exactly what Portia means and so she flickers a soft smile in her direction. “We do not look the same to them,” she pauses and looks away, knowing she’d had some upsetting nightmares in the beginning as she sorted through her actions and mistakes to find some reason to prove she’d made the right decision. “There are many before me, with me, as I will be with my successor.”

portia grew curious, though she wasn't sure she understood-- not fully, anyway. "i've seen my mother in dreams before," she said, her ears cupping forward, "not for a while-- drageda seems to have calmed her spirit-- but she would always express her distaste for my life choices. it was not so much warning as it was a reoccurring dream, as it was always the same... but she was always there." somehow she felt this was different, and her ears fell again-- eyes narrowing to the ground.

"your dreams are a different thing entirely though, i suppose?" she then asked, a smile gracing her lips. she was interested, at least, she was just-- for some reason-- unable to fully wrap her mind around the concept. her mother was one wolf, and it always felt like the same dream over and over, a whole bloodline of leaders must be incredible, and to actually gain intel from them? how wild. or perhaps she was misinterpreted this whole thing, but that was where her mind wandered to.

Portia explains her experiences with dreams and having seen her mother. She knows other wolves have dreams and see others sometimes. Did it mean their connection to those they saw are the same as hers? Most of the wolves she sees she doesn’t know who they are, having died before her birth, but they are there and they lead her and guide her to do the things she needs to do. They warn her, as they have recently, but they are not always as accurate or direct and the need of a fleimkepa has become more prominent.

“I don’t think so,” she says, not wanting to hurt the dreams Portia has with her mothers and how she may take them. “They guided the Heda before me, for generations,” she says, though she knows she’s repeating herself. Awkwardly, Thuringwethil smiles with a flick of her tail, knowing there are more wolves in their ranks that don’t understand than those that may.

portia actually hated her mother, quite a bit. so heda's response wouldn't have dulled her spirits. if anything, it would've made a bit more sense, since it was probably just her own conscious yelling at her to stop whoring around a pick a spot to live-- otherwise she probably would've died, cold and starving and probably pregnant.

"i wish i had that," she said with a shrug and a smile. "my mother was just a bitch--" she paused, "--excuse my language. but to have so many leaders hanging around and sharing guidance-- it's really wonderful." she stared forward for a moment, tail swishing. she then smiled brighter, almost mischievously, and said confidently, "mochof gon sharing. ai laik ste learning, ba ai feel mo gon houm in drageda." there! she may not have fully understood the ways of the culture, but she was trying. her ignorance on the subject aside, she hoped a sentence in their native language would make her heda proud of her, and not like she was speaking to a dumbass who couldn't even wrap her mind around what portia felt was a large portion of their culture.

Thuringwethil’s eyes widen when Portia explains the information about her mother. Her ears droop and she burrows her brows. She did not have a relationship with her parents, she does not even know who birthed her, but most wolves seemed to be fine with theirs they knew. Portia proved to be otherwise but she does not ask the obvious questions developing in her mind. Instead, she compliments Drageda and then attempts to speak in her own tongue. Her tail swishes a few times over her spine and her expression chances to a slight smile. It is not perfect but she has grown in the time she’d been there and that is enough.

“Mochof,” she thanks in return, happy to hear she’s comfortable in their own claim to be one of their own. “You are very important to us.”

it had never occurred to her that thuringwethil had not known her parents, and so the expression she gave made little sense. plenty of wolves had negative relationships with their parents-- and she might've asked had she known better than to pry at the life of the hierarchy, it was rude and disrespectful. but, heda's demeanor changed when she spoke, and portia's heart swelled. the praise meant a lot, especially coming from heda herself. portia's tail wagging happily, and she stood. "it's an honor to be here," she said earnestly with a chirpy voice. for a moment she looked away, her tail swishing. "well, i'm glad you're safe, ma'am," she told her, green gaze falling back to the leader, "i have some things to do before night falls." she picked the herbs back up and dipped her head graciously to the dark wolf, still pleased with their conversation. when she was dismissed, she turned and headed back to store her herbs, content with the day.