Qeya River i have burned & burned

perhaps @Sakhmet? no obligation though! ♥

this area, this taiga — though his tongue as clumsy as an infants upon the stuttering utterance of the common language cannot say it without butchering it — as he knows it is called is the place where he and his rust armored valkyrie have stayed the longest. gleipnir is not troubled by this sense of settling; however temporary it may be. the stone and ice and snows of this part of the wilds beckon him; comfort him. familiarity where all else is foreign. he follows the winding river, breath expelling betwixt his lips in thick, writhing plumes of steam.

chunks of ice float lazily down stream from the glacier that looms from the cliff above, painted in the morning sun, thick ice illuminated to a mystical blue-green glow like the fur of the frostgiants. in the soft, chilling breeze of the early morn the creak and groan of the evergreens draw forth errant attention, acknowledged with a mere flick of his ear. scarred face lifts to the pale blue sky, head snapping in the direction of the wooded land tucked in the womb of the taiga's rocky and ice cliffs as a twig snaps beneath weight causes a curl of his lip back from the gleam of sharpened ivory. the bristle of fur at his nape settles though, the tension of his muscles easing as the click of vension joints tell him it was just prey; and appeased he continues to leisurely follow along his path of the river bank.

She had been here once before. Not quite a year ago. She had been a feral being then, intent on finding a strong mate to satiate her most carnal desires. In that, Shockwave had been successful. Four strong, healthy children had been born to her, raised by the pack she had come from. They had needed new blood, so she had delivered. They were grown now, at least as grown as they needed to be. The pack was strong; her children were strong.

But something had shifted, and Shock's brother had taken a mate this year. Shock had been chased from her home, and so she returned to a place she had flirted with for a short time. The rush of the river beside her was a warning to her that she should not tread too close to its banks. Instead, she locked her eyes on a white figure in the distance and halted. A twig had snapped beneath her paw, and the other had turned to look at her, but she must have been hidden from his view. He bristled, and Shock made herself still.

When he relaxed, the rather average-looking orange-eyed wolf made her presence known with a chuff as she came out from behind the trees.

beneath the click of venison joints his ears twitch at the sound of separate breaths; too different to be that of a flighty and doeish prey; and though he's moved on and relaxed the worst of his bristling the chuff that echoes upon stone and ice walls and bounces back to him draws fierce glacial gaze to where a woman cloaked in a pelage of downy ivory approaches. sakhmet's wardog answers this with a low warning of thinly veiled aggression. the warborne berserker has only one category for strangers: not sakhmet; and it is only the rust armored valkyrie that sees the softer side of the helhound.

a curl of his lip is given again, this time aimed directly for the moonbeamed woman. hvað viltu? demands gleipnir in northern tongue, not expecting her to understand. he and sakhmet have learned to co-exist quite well living on a minimal word basis though they can speak more with each new sentence he learns even if he stutters and his tongue tumbles upon the formation of the words. it is easy to parrot her.

wha...what ... — you want? gleipnir demands in poor common, knowing that it doesn't sound quite right but not really caring either way.

He spoke, his tone bordering on angry, and Shock took a step back. Her ears flattened, her elbows and hocks bent, and she lowered herself so that she appeared smaller that her mid-sized frame would suggest. Shock's orange eyes diverted to the ground, as if something there was more interesting than the intimidating wolf before her. The year prior, when she had come to this land, she would have balked at him and turned tail for somewhere else. This time was different, though. She needed to make alliances.

A question was posed, and Shock thought on it. What did she want? Her home. Her children. The life she once lived. But none of those things were possible with her sister-in-law's teeth baring down on her day-in and day-out. The stress of it had driven her away, and so she was here now, face-to-face with a question she wasn't quite sure how to answer. Even if she had known, she couldn't express it in a way he would understand.

Attempting to appease him further, she wagged her tail and fell to her shoulder, facing belly-up.

gleipnir does not move despite the taunt pull of his muscles; pulling tight like a bow string ready to be sprung loose. with sakhmet present to temper the dark of his nature, to translate so that what is spoken might not go mistranslated and misunderstood; he remains the unchained. a coy tilt of his head and glacial gaze follows the woman's movements as she wags her tail and falls to her shoulder, exposing her belly. a gesture that gleipnir understands well.

it is meant to appease him and he supposes it does; and yet his veins thrum as he feeds and thrives off of the shift of power this gives him.

annoyance that she doesn't answer his question swells fast within his chest like the rising of a high tide and it shows in the flutter of his ears, the whip of his tail as he ghosts towards her a step. it does not occur to him that perhaps she doesn't speak common either. unfortunately for her, everyone else appears to speak it ( heavy accents that nearly turn it into gibberish to him aside ) and he assumes that she does too.

so, gleipnir tries something else. something easier. name? though less of a question and more of a demand. thoughts flicker briefly to sakhmet and he finds himself bristling again, unsure if this woman means harm to his valkyrie despite her absence at his side for the moment.

It occurred to her then that her inability to speak might put her in danger. Before, back home, others had called her Shock. Here, however, there was no way to tell others her name. No way to convey the name she'd been given upon her day of birth. Laying there on her back, neck twisted around to look in his general direction, she shook her head back and forth. There was no name she could provide for him.

Watching him for any signs of aggression, she slowly rolled over onto her belly. Here, she stayed, at least for now. Any quick moves might cause him to give chase (or worse), and she couldn't risk that right now.