Dragoncrest Cliffs for the arms that hold me

It has been half a day since the rains have stopped but the damage it has caused has still remained behind. The air is humid and the wind is slow, unable to give enough relief. The moment the sun touched the sky for the first time in days, she and @Eske slipped out to survey what had been left behind. The cavern is still soaked, but they’ve been able to return to it once more, and the lake still brimmed with more water than it is meant to hold. The tides, however, have returned to the normal rhythmic background music the cliffs have always offered. The redwood forest is soaked in most places and, finally, she has been able to access their secluded beach with a little effort and a short swim.

In the distance, she can see the curve of the guardians as they pass along. Her ears cup forward and her tail arches above her spine, standing on the damp sand. The storms have passed and Drageda still stands, proving their worth and hold on this land. Thuringwethil lifts her nose and howls, filling the air from their sandy shores. The sun is warm against her skin and she smiles to herself, taking a few more steps to travel further down the beach.

Growing winds had announce the coming of disaster. For Julep disaster had already come and left a mess behind, not once, but twice in her lifetime. Szymon and Doe's names were but a blurred memory, their faces lost between so many; and the amazons, having been short to a fiasco, were better forgotten. Julep was alone this time, the shadow gone too long ago to even bother searching for her, his barracuda brother too, and Julep's only chance at surviving had been her own instincts. She'd remained close to the shores for weeks, scavenging the sands and cherishing the eventual lost seal cub to fill her gut.

But still the gods seemed to have different plans for the sea tigress. They were ruthless, determined to fuck up her life even further, and so with winds and thunder they brought even greater chaos to the land, dragging a desperate Julep down to the shook sea and beating her with all it had to render her unconscious. She battled to swim back to shore, she used all her strength, but her efforts were fruitless. She grew tired, scared and hopeless, and she would have perished there in the very place that had forgiven her once if the tides themselves hadn't decided it had been enough. As soon as she touched land again the young Cairn dragged herself as far from the water as she could, coughing and spitting out heaps of water before finally dropping to the ground in exhaustion.

She didn't know how long she stayed there, or where she had ended up, or even whether she had actually survived. All Julep Cairn knew, was that she felt as alone as ever.

---

Thuringwethil is not on her brief patrol for long but she does keep an eye out to see to make sure the guardians remain. They linger for a while now that the storm has gone, the test is over, but why are they still there? Her ears remain attentive, waiting for any blow of water from the horizon or anything to offer a signal there is something else she should be doing. Them simply being here, just lingering, is enough to cause a stir in her chest that there is something… unfinished.

Every so often she stops and searches up and down the coast as if something is there, waiting, and it is only when flailing and sputtering catches her attention. A small form wallows onto shore. The tides are not as angry as they have been for the better part of the week or more but the longer she looks, the more she realizes it is a wolf further up shore. Her ears drop upon her head and she stumbles forward, a mix of aggression and concern tying her into a stammering of her legs. Uncertain how to act, she remembers the guardians in the ocean and turns to see them still there and searches their presence for answers.

After a beat, she can’t give them the attention she wants to. Their answers do not make sound but she rushes forward anyway to close the distance. She does not make a sound or indicate her presence any more than her approach gives off, and lowers her head to grab the girl by the scrub and drag her further up the sand.

She's dragged further up shore by an unknown force, but she makes no effort to see what's going on. She's still adrift in her dreams, dreams of fear and desperation, and they cast far enough to make the girl stammer senseless words in the wake world. The heat, the dehydration, the exhaustion all add up to her deplorable state, but it's clear through the unfortunate appearance that she's been through the worst and come out victorious. A blink brings her back but the light is blinding. The hushed gibberish continues, she's saying nothing, but she's so convinced of her words...

They'll be back... sounds clear from the mass of words, and it becomes frequent. They'll be back... she repeats, blinking her eyes open, coughing some more. Julep Cairn still hasn't come back to her senses, but she's very much alive.

---

Her mouth is filled with fur and salt water but she doesn’t have to battle the storm anymore. The heat the sun gives off does feel like it slows her down and now, with a dry, matted mouthful of fur, she drops the girl where she is safe from the waves touching her. The words from the girl come in a wave of words that Thuringwethil doesn’t put a lot of faith into. Her eyes are a blank stare after a moment, coughing up water from her lungs and she winces. She has known the salt sea water against her lungs and she had to have been in the water for a long time.
 
There is no break from the cliffs that lead to any other access and she certainly had not come from within the cavern that leads out here. She glances out to the horizon to see the guardians still lingering though they have made movement and have grown smaller. Occasionally, they disappear from view and pop up a few feet later. When she turns her hardened, slate eyes toward the girl she can’t help but feel that whatever was unfinished earlier in her patrol is coming to a close.
 
With a weird settled feeling in her stomach, she lifts her head and calls for @Portia and @Dio mainly but any that can help.
 
Thuringwethil lowers her nose after a beat to help keep the girl’s head up so that she may cough up and out without choking on it.

The hallucinations grow closer to reality as her eyes open up once more. She keeps coughing, filling her lungs with air more with each breath and feeling the burn of the saltwater pushing up her throat. She becomes aware of her exhaustion and groans, makes failed efforts to turn around the other way and blinks awake.

Reality kicks in, she's alive. Her head turns around slowly to find a dark figure holding her upright. For a moment Julep's sight tricks her and she sees the shadow, her worried blue eyes staring at her and she feels safe, but when the blur dies out and the figure sharpens up Julep jumps away. Those grey eyes are none that she knows, it's not Akantha, it's not Skellige, Isengrim, Murgash, and it's certainly not the sheepdog. Wh-where am I? she asks, her voice coarse, hurt and a general body ache ripping through. What happened? who are you? she keeps asking as she drags herself away from her with difficulty.

---

When the girl finally comes to, Thuringwethil braces for much more. She’s in a foreign land after the sea threw her out, back on to land. Whatever brought her in had been enough to catch the attention of others and brought her here. She struggles to see coincidence between the events. Heda watches her stammer back, putting distance between the two of them and she does not try to close it again. Instead, she remains stiff-legged and lets the girl take as much space as she needs. Occasionally, she flickers her gaze beyond her to see if and when the others would come. In the meantime, she has to work to keep her calm.

Carefully, Thuringwethil lowers her rump to the ground and eases her posture. She has no intention of stepping forward and crowding her again when she doesn’t want the help. Having her panic in her state will do more harm than good, she is sure, and she’s old enough to make decisions on her own.

“You are in my home,” she tells her, alternating her weight upon her front paws until she settles comfortable in the sand. A tongue washes over her muzzle. She turns her nose back to the ocean and points outward to the last remaining whales in the distance. Several then flip their rear fins in the air and no longer slowly linger nearby but as she returns her gaze, she does not answer any further questions.

jesus i wrote a lot. srry guys

He expects nothing as feet carry him in the shadow of the Commander, but fufilling the sole purpose she has set to him since arrival; remembering that his life is not his own. And he does so, little by little surrendering himself to the ideals of Drageda's matriarch, and assimilating what he knew and what he is expect to know deep within his mind. But still, there is a barrier that holds unrelenting against the tides of her mindwashing; demanding that he recall what freedom was like and how it tasted. He is not ready to give up his old life. This would never be so more apparent then when the woman who threatened to take away everything he had stumbled upon the one thing he had left. Julep.

Instantantiously, his heart stops. All muscles seem to lock up within his body as he watches her scrambling body fight to pull herself from the water, and as her mouth opens to form a voice he truly never imagined he would hear again. His mouth dries up, breath caught in mid balance and he cannot seem to form a coherent thought as the floods of warning mixed with utter astonisment seem to flush out all other sense of reality. His eyes widen, sheer disbelief etched into every corner of his face as he begins to step forward, paw extended in an almost-attempt to embrace his sister once more. But the movement falls incomplete and so does his expression, dropping his foot to a stop and ceasing the overwhelming excitement as if it was never there. Instead, he stands placid, body rigid if not stoic in his bet attempt to pretend as if he does not know her. Every shred of acting ability he can muster within himself, does he throw into the preformance, the condemning facade, pushing his eyes to remain cold and utterly distant as the waves that crash in the far distance. He does this because of her. He cannot touch his sister, because of her. He cannot embrace is only living sibling after months of seperation, because of her. He cannot open his mouth to speak in Julep's direction, because of her. He knows that if there is any indication that the two are connected by blood, he will never see his sister again. It is because of her, and the fear she has instilled within his heart. It is because of the plan he knows she has for him, that is life will never be his own ever again; that any ties he had to his old life will drown and sink with the fishes. He knows this, and he cannot move or threaten what he has so quickly and pleadingly built so fast to hide those very emotions in a quick instant. Instead does he stare ahead into the distance, letting the cry of the gulls drown out the rapid pace of his heart that beats like a sledgehammer against rock within his ears, and he remains there, a post against the wind in guard of the Commander, morally unyeilding against all the emotions that threaten to surface. He cannot and he will not. He cannot, and he repeats this with a flick on his tounge as the woman capable of murdering his only remaining blood reaches out to the only girl he was ever meant to protect.

It is in this moment that Isengrim Cairn, son of the Leviathan and Barracuda of the Depths, never felt more helpless.

portia leaves the pups in the cavern. there are plenty of wolves that she trusts inside and the pups (despite their lack of social skills) were old enough by now to hang out in the cavern without parent supervision-- at least in portia's opinion. thuringwethil's call holds a certain expectation anyway, and the feline was not about to simply ignore the commander.

the call seemed urgent... though portia was unsure of specifics. she grabbed some some anti-infection and cobwebs for a quick first-aid kit, and set off.

her ears angled forwards as she grew closer, coming upon a boy she'd never seen before and a sandy-colored female who was wet as a seal. portia's brow furrowed, unsure of what to make of this situation, and eyed her commander curiously. the boy smelled of drageda, so the fisa assumed he'd been here for a bit, but she had not yet been acquainted with him.

The howl that had gone up a scarce few minutes before was urgent, and when Tirgatao arrived on the scene it immediately became clear why. Portia was there before her as was, of course, Heda, her young shadow, and the cause of the commotion. Small, frail, and wave-battered, the young wolf lay prone before the great Commander and Tirgatao felt her heart leap into her throat, and her breath escape her lungs. Thuringwethil, too, was damp with sea water and it wasn't much of a logical leap to assume just what had transpired here.

Her head was significantly lower than Portia's and Thuringwethil's as she approached, but she didn't hesitate to do so despite the pressing, instinctual need to excuse herself in the presence of the higher ranked Fisa. They still hadn't resolved their initial issues (admittedly Tirgatao's own fault), but there also hadn't been much time. She didn't want to stress the woman out during her pregnancy by forcing her to deal with it then and there, or even now while she was rearing her litter.

But the need to comfort the girl, and serve her Heda, was far more important right now. She crept in, giving Portia a wide berth so that she might better serve in her task, but remained on the fringes. The Shouna lent Heda a worried look, but said nothing as not to frighten the girl further.

Sorry guys... I'd really like to pick this up again if everyone is okay with it?
@Thuringwethil @Isengrim @Portia @Tirgatao

Her home she said, meaning she was in charge. Julep's ears flopped flat on her head the second she realized she was invading. I am so sorry - I didn't - I didn't mean to trespass.. she kept saying, stuttering as she tried to drag herself away. But before she knew it she'd been surrounded. Surely this would be her end, her final breath was long and deep, and the memories all spilled all over her head. Of the shadow, mom and dad... Dad was so gorgeous, so grand. She remembered Skellige and the tremulous drop, all of it came back as her eyes shifted nervously (and rather drowsily) among those that gathered around her. But he was the most vivid of all the flashbacks. The berserker, the little bastard. Isengrim looked as though he might be standing in front of her and eventually her focus fell upon his figure, distant, observant, as her senses shut down completely.

Brother, was the only sign that she was still alive, her voice repeating Brother, faintly, dimmer every time...

---

I think it's just going to be you, me, and @Portia. I'm going to PP @Tirgatao loosely for the time being. @Julep -- can you list what injuries she has for us? Or PM/list in your last post? Thanks! :)

The girl bumbles through a series of apologies that eventually become incomprehensible. She doesn’t expect much, either, since the ocean washed her up on the shore of her beach and after the recent storm, there’s no telling what kind of damage is done. If the guardians have brought her to them, then there is purpose somewhere and she has to figure it out. Tirgatao may be able to decipher it and she can only hope she’ll show with the call made.

Thuringwethil licks her lips and glances up, catching the sight of Isengrim getting close. Her slate eyes widen in surprise to see him so close. Portia and Tirgatao come from down the shore before she has a moment to process it and she gives the boy a single warning to leave immediately and stay out of the way. The sudden commotion causes her to miss the repetitive word she speaks over and over as she then focuses on her two pack mates to address the situation.

“She has been brought here,” she says to the both of them, turning her head once to catch the last glimpse of the whales in the distance. I’m not sure why, she thinks but does not voice, blinking down at her to realize she’s trying to say something that becomes faint and nothing more than a few mumbles and roll of her lips. “There is a small cave over here, we can get her dry,” she explains though she looks to Portia first to look her over for any obvious injuries that would stop them from moving her too much.

making assumptions since i'm not sure of any injuries she has.

portia was very focused on the stranded child. even as thuringwethil gives isengrim the command to leave, portia is waiting for her own a-okay to tend to the girl. the commander turns her attention to her and the assumption is made that she needs her to double-check. the fisa skirts over and begins to sniff and prod at the half-conscious girl herself, not immediately finding anything that was a pressing matter. maybe a few scratches and the kid was certainly waterlogged, but otherwise portia found nothing they should stress over. 

"she's okay," she said, giving her sound of approval. she'd patch up anything minor when the child was warm and dry-- but they didn't need to fuss over nothing while she could be catching a cold. she didn't verbally make any commands, but she waited with a flicking tail for thuringwethil to give the okay to move the sandy child to safety.

awkwardly closing this. <3

When Portia gives her the go-ahead, Thuringwethil and Tirgatao work together to pick up the unconscious girl the best they can without dragging her more than they have to. If anything internal is wrong, they could cause more damage, but they work with what they have. Portia offers her help where needed but between the two of them, they’re able to get her on solid ground, beneath some shelter. There, the healer takes a closer look to her wounds and offers orders between the other two women and they get what she needs as she needs, before assigning a guard to the nook to leave her to rest.