Keeping up with Kenna’s twins had been much more difficult than Sköll had originally perceived it to be; granted if he wouldn’t have opened his big, fat mouth and promised a near impossible feat to Kenna he wouldn’t have even been in this mess in the first place. It much too little, too late to change his mind now, however because he had lost them. They had been well behaved for the first week of their journey, had generally listened to Sköll and as soon as the Flokisson let his guard down they were gone. Sköll had even waited three days to see if either of them would return and yet they hadn’t and had been left to assume that they had snuck away to ditch him and continue on without their ‘babysitter’ because he was pushover. The only thing that Sköll had going for him was the fact that it was their eldest, half brother Ragnar that they sought. Everyone seemed to be deflecting under Váli’s poor rule in search of the once Jarl, even Floki had mentioned numerous times about going elsewhere. Elsewhere.
It was this horrific elsewhere that Sköll had gone, braved now knowing nothing of their culture or even, language. Ragnar had tried to teach them, their family the common tongue multiple times but Sköll, and his parents had only ever accomplished a few words. A few words that would either condemn him to death or hopefully save him. Sköll was as good a fighter as any Viking was, had to be to survive but he didn’t like fighting. He liked …peace. Healing, not killing. He had taken to his father’s trade with relative ease — with an ease he wished he could say he had picked up the common tongue.
There was a slim chance that he would get lucky and would stumble upon Ragnar’s pack; Sköll doubted his luck was that good after all he had managed to lose the twins in a matter of what was probably seconds. If Kenna ever found out she would tear out his lungs, which was why Kenna could never find out. Either the twins were already here and had beaten him or would find their way to these Elsewhere lands. Or…they would be killed by the Wilds. With a shake of his head he dispelled those thoughts. There was nothing he could do now except try to bumble and stagger his way with the piss poor common tongue words he knew into a pack and wait. Throwing his head back he let out a howl calling to the wolves that resided on the Isle — he could hear them and smell them even over the salty brine of the ocean that separated them from the mainland wondering how he could potentially scold the twins when he didn’t even know what he was doing.
He heard the distant howl on the mainland as he neared the shore facing it. He looked out towards the Sea Lion Shores, wondering who could be calling for members of his pack. This area seemed to be getting a lot of traffic lately - for which he was glad. His old introverted self seemed more and more outdated the longer he remained an Alpha, and now he was glad of any sort of company he got. With a bounce in his step, he made his way across the sandbar. It was about two hours past midday, so his Naturalist knowledge told him that the tide was lowering. And it was. Whereas it was up to his shoulder a few hours before, now it was at his mid-leg, which made it much easier to traverse.
Presently, he reached the mainland, and eyed the male wolf who had called him. The he-wolf was smaller than him, and had a silky coat of pure white. His eyes were orange, which Majesty was seeing on wolves more and more often lately. He padded calmly up to the newcomer, and sat down before him. "Hello," he said, deep voice rumbling from his chest. "What brings you here, friend?"
The sound of chords echoed through the seemingly vacant area; but their scents lingered like a fart in the wind. Ypres had been wandering aimlessly for months in search for a new place to call home. Her tired feet were so sore that they had become numb, as they felt as though they were no longer a part of her. Her ice colored eyes scanned the area to seek out the voices in the vast distance. Although the voices were only quiet among themselves; but to a wolf, the voices only screamed through their ears. Ypres had always had keen hearing despite injuries from past fights to knock some sense into her.
The scent of two males waft through her nostrils as she drew in closer towards them. The sounds of waves from the ocean crashed along the rocky shore and this indeed was a place she had never been to before. The sound of the waves colliding onto the rocks reminded her of thunder as she finally observed where the noise birthed from. Ypres's nose twitched to the heavy scent of the Alpha male, and a newer male. From what she could read, there were not many females lingering in the early summer air; but only one. Was she Alphess by default then? Rules applied differently throughout different packs, and the previous pack she ran into had only one male within; which granted him the default Alpha position. Perhaps it was different here....
The flame pointed female carried herself closer towards the two as they became of sight. Her skull pointed downward, her tail lingered in a limp manner, the stocky femme may have looked dangerous upon her approach. But it was her stocky built from afar that gave that impression of her, and it often worked to intimidate interlopers; so she used this tactic to gain an upper hand when dealing with strangers. With caution her ears swiveled gently behind her, but not flat upon her skull as she boldly drew close enough to make some what of a formed conversation. A single wave of her tail behind her indicated she was not here to begin turmoil, but to gain acceptance from the Alpha himself.
It was not often one got to Approach an Alpha, as most would send out a Lead Scout, Guardian, or Beta outward to grab the pack seeker. So seeing the Alpha standing here himself was a treat. Her icy eyes gazed gingerly upon the Alpha, and the male companion with acknowledgement and respect, but her demeanor held confidence as she approached.
Greetings. I hope I am not interrupting anything.
She gazed from one male to the next and offered another wag of her tail and flipped her right ear.
My name is Ypres.
She began as she offered a ginger smile.
''Where in the world am I standing? This place is gorgeous!... I mean...
She paused trying not to seem disrespectful as she recalled how previous Alphas would just stare at her for her openness.
I am seeking acceptance within your pack.
Ypres assumed the Alpha would be just like any other Alpha, and she wanted to keep this as brief and painless as possible. She figured he would just regard her for a mere second not bothering to get to know her. Typical for an Alpha to do, and it would not offend Ypres, as she was used to that sort of treatment; so therefore she half expected it with a glimmer of hope that he would pay slight more regard.
She was seeking the position as Guardian and to work herself up the social ladder or even Lead Guardian would do, because she loved to stand her ground and prove herself while others would laugh at her short stocky build.
It was dangerous to underestimate a short beauty with danger and excitement that lingered within her eyes. Offering a sweet ginger smile, it was a genuine smile as she lowered her skull with deeper respect to the Alpha and the older gent before her. [/b]
It did not take long for someone to begin to approach, crossing the sandbar the lands offered for easy traverse between the Isle and the mainland. Sköll observed the earthen colored male. Both were tall creatures but like his father, Sköll was smaller in the aspects of brawn, lacking the broadness that lined the approaching man’s masculine features, instead boasting a willowy and gangly shape, having earned his nickname justly: the tiny Viking. Height alone only got them so far. While Sköll could certainly hold his own in a battle (had trained too since he was old enough) he had been built for stamina and speed instead of brute force like most of the Northmen were. Eyes adverted, respectfully, as the man’s lips parted to speak and words came tumbling out. There was a quicken of Sköll’s heartbeat at the forced realization that he knew only two words Majesty had spoken: Hello and Friend, leaving out the bulk of the question. The only reason that Sköll was able to tell it was a question had been because of the tone. The tone had not sounded hostile or demanding but it held clear connotations of expecting something from him and Sköll was left in an internal state of panic wishing the twins wouldn’t have bailed on him. Left him alone to this Elsewhere whose common tongue he could not speak or understand.
“Hello,” Came Sköll’s timid mimicking of the greeting Majesty had began with, masculine voice thickly, heavily accented. Sköll hesitated, visibly then, lowering into submission before Majesty, wondering how he was going to possibly communicate that he couldn’t speak hardly any of the common tongue, nor really comprehend it but in small, albeit broken bits and pieces. “talar Þu forna Norse?" Sköll asked in a hopeful tone that was lined with trepidation suspecting that the answer was going to be ‘no’. Ear slicked back to his skull as he considered the extremely awkward position he found himself in and how big of an earful he was going to give the twins when ever he saw them again. For torturing him by making him worry relentlessly about their welfare and for making him stumble in a otherwise hopeless situation that Sköll could only hope didn’t end with his lifeblood staining the sands crimson.
Just when Sköll thought that things couldn’t possibly be worse a stranger approached, a loner, like him, joining them making a trio, oozing a confidence that made the Tiny Viking jealous. She began prattling in the common tongue, her words as foreign and as alien as they could get to his ears making him, abruptly, feel overshadowed. He bared his teeth and growled lowly at her figuring he would let her know his displeasure at her intrusion and acting as if he wasn’t even there trying to get in the pack, too. Since he couldn’t speak to her he trusted basics to assist him in the manner. He was not a violent creature (despite what his culture boasted of) but he did not like being stepped on like a doormat because he was still there and this awkward joining process was supposed to be his awkwardness. He inhaled deeply and let it out before he looked back to Majesty, hindering on if he should just turn around and leave or not. He stayed, if only to out of curiosity to see what would happen. With him and with this other loner.
Sighing, he sat up a bit straighter and gave her the ultimate deadpan expression as she spoke. Her flow of words was irritating and he began to see why other wolves sometimes hated how much he talked. When she was done, and was looking slightly abashed, he sighed again. "You, Miss. Go stand over there for a moment." He motioned with his head some distance away from himself and the male. "You have interrupted a delicate situation and I do not need you getting in the way and confusing this poor man anymore. I will get to you in a moment."
Without waiting to see if she had done what he had asked, he turned back to the male and allowed his instincts to override his language skills. He stood, chest out, radiating dominance. But he kept his body relaxed. He wasn't trying to get the male to submit. The white wolf was already doing so and looked nervous enough to bolt at any moment. Majesty let his face break out into a happy expression. He let his tail wag, and then motioned with his head towards the island. Then he looked back at the male and gave a friendly bark, and then back at the island. And then he nodded. He hoped it would be enough...
Eyes raced upon Majesty who spoke at her for her to move along to the sidelines.. Figures.. She offered Majesty a smile despite feeling offended.
" Very well.. "
She dipped her mug and then she looked at the other male.
"Fyrirgef mik"
She spoke gingerly and only barely audible for the newer male to hear. She passed him with a gentle breeze not looking back but only grinning slyly to herself. It was exciting to hear another language. She kept her back at the two males as they conversed. She did feel bad for interrupting, but that was Ypres, she carried a terrible knack for timing on occasions like these..
She knew the Alpha wouldn't pay too much heed to her afterward now that she skipped in like she had.. ooops.. Maybe joining another pack would do, or maybe not.. She was feeling deeply offended.. Goodness, she was no mind reader! Smart, but not a mind reader...
She contemplated on taking her leave..
The earthen kissed male did not answer Sköll’s presented question in his native tongue and this left Sköll with the only assumption that he could presently make: Majesty did not speak Norse and therefore they would serve to have a major issue. Orange eyes stared back mercilessly when the woman glared at him when he growled at her making Sköll feel like he was mentally being accused of being in the wrong for baring his teeth and stating his displeasure without putting it into words. The Tiny Viking let out a sharp snort, eyes going back to Majesty when the leader of the Isle known because of the dominate puff of his chest which had been maybe a little unnecessary since Sköll felt like it meant he needed to submit when he was already submitting in the first place, when the man fixed the woman in an impassive stare, his tone suggested chiding though his words were lost upon the Northman.
The barks and gestures towards the Isle did not work to communicate all that well with Sköll either, though it was not for a lack of trying on either man’s part. The twins were most decidedly in for the worst chiding of their short lives when Sköll got a hold of them. …If they ever made it to the Teekon Wilds, that was. Sköll was not used to such jovial and easy going expressions and therefore was, in his frustration, unable to make any sense of what was just barking and gesturing to him. He had once been praised for his high level of intelligence, by his father, by Ragnar who was the most clever of their pack but now he wondered if they had been lying to him because he didn’t feel very smart at that moment. Instead he felt really, really stupid.
When the woman whispered to him in his native tongue forgive me, low so that Sköll assumed only he had heard the Tiny Viking recoiled as if she had reached out and slapped him across his muzzle. She hadn’t but the shock of hearing those two words in his native tongue left him in a bit of a stupor coupled with the begrudging realization that she might be able to translate for him. Of course the idea of relying on someone else (especially with something so vital) was spurred instantly by the male pride Sköll exhibited. Not to mention he did not know her and furthermore couldn’t trust her to even translate correctly for him. It wasn’t as if he could understand much of the common tongue and therefore would be relying, solely upon another creature. He didn’t like it …not one bit but he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Majesty and him weren’t communicating effectively and slowly the Tiny Viking rose out of his submission and glimpsed from the earthen colored male offering him what little he could. “Sköll,” The wolf that would eat the sun in Ragnarök. Not him personally, but it was from the god-like creature the Tiny Viking borrowed his name. “I am Sköll.” He spoke each word slowly, the confusion on his face expressing that he wasn’t really sure if he was using the correct words to tell Majesty his name.
It was only then that he turned to the rude woman who spoke his native tongue fixing her in his stare. “geturðu Þýtt?” It stung him to have to stoop down to the level of desperation he had reached, having to trust a rude stranger to translate for him. It was a tentative trust that would either be broken or made depending on what she did in return. “getur Þú sagt honum að ég leita til að taka Þýtt pakki hans?” He paused and then added, softly, “vinsamlegast.” If she refused he would figure some other way out. He wasn’t groveling and he would never beg her (he wasn’t that desperate), but he figured that asking usually didn’t ever hurt.
Majesty turned to her. "Can you understand him?" he asked. "Do you speak his language? Perhaps you can help. If you can translate what he's saying, and I can confirm that you are not lying about his words, I will allow you to join my pack. Please. If you can help, do so."
Ypres was a trustworthy wolf and wouldn't steer anyone wrong, as she was probably one of the most bluntly honest wolves out alive.. Perhaps... Not many liked the truth, but it was much better than blatant bull-faced lies..
Majesty asked if she could help out as well, and she would only move if he allowed her to. After all this WAS his turf; not Skoll's. Upon declaration of right to translate, Ypres padded respectfully over towards the male pair, where she stood a few feet away between them, while they faced each other. Her eyes gingerly looked from one male to the next before she offered speech to Skoll.
Já ég get þýtt og ég mun hjálpa þér
Her eyes drift to Majesty.
I understand him perfectly... And I am able to help, but in one condition...
She offered Majesty a proud smile.
When you allow me to join your family circle, you must promise me the position as Spy and work myself up to Lead Guardian, as I am a lady of many tongues and am a fighter as well as highly protective. ...
She offered the king a dip of her mug to show she meant business. She swiftly looked over to Skoll, and smiled to translate what he stated about joining.
He wishes to join your pack.
She stated as she looked back to Majesty then back to Skoll patiently awaiting a reply.
The other male introduced himself as ‘Majesty’ though the name was still just as foreign and weird to Sköll as almost every word the other man spoke. Sköll mimicked Majesty’s nod of understanding because he wasn’t even going to attempt to say his name very aware that he would butcher it if he did. His eyes went to Ypres as she spoke that she could translate and would help him. An apprehensive relief surged through Sköll at the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to stumble, blindly, through this process. It was humiliating that he had to ask for a stranger’s help of course (male pride and all) but he was unsure what else he could do. Majesty and him could not effectively communicate with one another and it was becoming the problem that Sköll had, in something of a prophetic manner, feared it might be. “þakka þér” Sköll told her though his body was as tense as a taunt bow string because he had to put a blind faith in her to not tell Majesty that he was some rabid monster who came to eat the children — because it wasn’t like Sköll could tell the difference. The common tongue was more or less, just a bunch of useless babbling and gibberish to him.
Sköll watched as Ypres turned to Majesty and began speaking their gibberish, a heavy breath leaving him as he waited for some kind of verdict hating that he did not know the woman who could easily condemn him if she wished, could easily, too easily lie to either male, in reality, if she translated wrong or just wanted to be vindictive. It was an unfair assumption for Sköll to make but the Tiny Viking was suspicious when it came to trusting absolute strangers with delicate situations. She looked back to Sköll then and offered the Tiny Viking a smile before she spoke in the gibberish tongue once more and patiently, Sköll waited for the translation of whatever Majesty had to say come through.
He spoke to her. "I am not sure I know the trades Spy and Lead Guardian, but they remind of the Outrider and Warden trades, so you may have those. Outriders come and go from the pack often, are ambassadors, and also recruiters. They carry information between packs. Wardens are protectors of the pack, alongside Warriors, though it is a Warden's job to constantly patrol the pack's borders."
He looked at the male, and then back at her and said, "Ask him what skills he would bring to the pack if he were accepted. Ask him what he is good at."
Very well, I can adjust to that!
Then he had asked her to ask Skoll what he could offer the pack. She wagged her tail and looked back to the snow white man before her.
Alpha vill vita hvað ert þú góður á að gera? húfu er hægt að bjóða í pakka?
She wagged her tail at the new male once again as she drew comfort in sitting now, trusting things should be fine.
The words that Majesty and Ypres exchanged between one another were many and continued to go unknown to the Tiny Viking who fidgeted where he stood feeling …nervous. He wasn’t used to having to trust the translations to a stranger. That wasn’t to say that Fenrir or Hati couldn’t have easily, with intention at that, messed up the translations purely in jest but at least he knew Kenna’s twins. At least he held some authority over them. He held nothing of any sort over this woman and was left with the uncomfortable knowledge of unknowing. Sköll did not like not knowing what words were being exchanged between the other male and female, his brow furrowed in confusion as he tried and inherently failed to make sense of their gibberish.
The female spoke to him again, however, breaking the feeling that he was being ignored in their exchanges, telling him that the Alpha …Majesty…wished to know what Sköll was good at. “ segja honum að ég er góður á lækningu, og að ég get barist” Sköll spoke back to Ypres knowing that compared to most it probably wasn’t that impressive and he probably should have mentioned that he generally disliked fighting and tried to avoid it if possible. He was a healer, not a killer though the distinction was, indeed, a very fine one.
He looked to her now, waiting for her to speak in words he could understand. He felt bad for the white male. He must have been feeling just as awkward as Majesty right then. The Alpha hoped that in the future, they would find an easier way to communicate...
Ypres awaited Skoll"s answer as to what he was good at. He told her he was good at healing and fighting. Just by looking at Skoll, she could tell the handsome male very well could pact a hell of a bite. He was built like the perfect warrior, and the fine tones hidden under his pelt told her so. She cleared her throat as she found herself staring at the gentleman. She offered a genuine smile and turned cheek to look at Majesty.
"He states that he's a good fighter and healer."
She stared at her Alpha gently seeing how uncozy this situation made him feel. She too would feel uncomfortable with this situation if she needed a translator.. Ypres found herself easily getting frustrated at situations like this when she was much younger. Two wolves speaking another tongue drove her mad, and it forced her to learn new languages just because it irked her not to know, and what if they plotted against her? .... it was why she taught herself new tongues... she waited for the response of the Alpha while meanwhile casting a ginger glance to the handsome Skoll.
Sköll watched the woman, Ypres, shoot him another genuine smile and he managed to twitch his lips in some sort of likewise response. He still didn’t trust her fully, of course, but considering he had to rely on her to communicate between Majesty and himself he was truly stuck between a rock and a hard place; without much of a choice in the manner of things. The sigh Majesty gave caused the Tiny Viking’s blazing orange gaze to settle back upon the alpha of the Isle, weary. The sigh had been a heavy sound, with, maybe a twinge of impatience …it wasn’t easy for Sköll to tell emotions without tone (after all he wasn’t used to not being able to communicate) but sometimes things were obvious enough in the body language department for him to be able to make a rough assumption. They were not always correct, of course, but Sköll did the best with what he had to work with, which in this situation, wasn’t much.
Ypres spoke to the Alpha in their shared language, Gods, he hated the common tongue with a fiery passion and, foolishly, when he had set out for this place, to Ragnar with Hati he had counted on the ex-Jarl’s sister to assist him, and hoped that more wolves would speak his native tongue so that it wouldn’t be the problem that it painfully was. Awkwardly, the Tiny Viking stood there, waiting for Majesty so speak so Ypres might translate for him, missing the woman’s ginger look in his direction because he was boyishly oblivious at times.
He turned to Ypres. "You have done well as translator. Tell Sköll that he is welcome in the pack. And do me a favor. Since you can speak his language, try to stick close to him for a few days, alright? Make him feel less left out." He smiled. "Welcome to the pack, the both of you."
With that, Majesty turned and made his way to the sandbar back to the island, glad that he had two new members.