Gyrfalcon's Keep The winter may pass and the spring disappear

Mist rose with the sun, forming a light halo around the highest peak that overlooked the area. It was well forested with spruce and cedar- bringing with it the promise of deer and grouse. The scent of cool mountain water hung on the air amid the perfume of evergreen, and the ashen figure sighed with relief when she inhaled both the scent of her daughter and her friend. 

They'd left markings along the borders, and her daughter's path had been fresh. She called out, then, to catch her attention, disguising her voice slightly so she might appraise Thyra's form as she approached, hoping to catch her by surprise.

There was an odd, loud thumping sound that she heard in the distance. It began with a few low thumps, but they sped up. It wasn't until she came upon feathers left behind by grouse that she realized that that was what she'd been hearing. It was early yet for their courtship rituals, but perhaps this lone one practicing was a means of beckoning an early spring. She would take it- she could not wait for the snow to melt. 

A call came from the borders, and it caused a few hairs along her spine to lift, for some unknown reason. Was there an edge of hostility to the voice? That worried her. She thought about calling out for Asvoria, but the wolf was so close by...She felt it would be best to intervene now, before they crossed the borders. 

She'd bristled up her fur in an attempt to round out her shape, and approached with a stiff gait- though as soon as she caught sight of the ashen figure at the edge of the forest, her form broke. Her tail swept from side to side in deep waves, and she rushed forward with her posture lowered, bashfully.

Solveig caught sight of Thyra before her daughter spotted her- and looked with approval at the young one's movement and approach, though she still felt that Thyra should try to put on more muscle mass. Solveig had been several inches taller when she'd been that age and had grown more still after that- surely, her daughter was simply not growing because she was too often distracted by other hobbies. 

She sighed when Thyra caught sight of her and immediately dropped into a familial, almost submissive posture as she approached. She uttered a low growl and a fond chuff as her daughter came to greet her, allowing the wriggling girl a moment or two to celebrate her arrival before she lowered her head and gave her daughter a good shove with her muzzle to push her back a few feet, and reset her posture. 

"This is not how shieldmaidens greet strangers," She prompted, lifting her chin up a bit.

She felt so relieved that her mother had made the journey. Part of her had hoped that her father and siblings might have changed their minds, and caught up with her as well- but knowing the way her father was...It would not likely be the case.  She pressed up against her mother's chest and reached to place a few kisses on the underside of her chin, only to be shoved back a few feet by a push of her mother's muzzle. 

She was bewildered for a moment, until she understood. She heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. Right. Everything, with her mother, was training. "Hael og sæl," She moaned, begrudgingly. She caught a look from her mother and straightened up, squaring her stance and pushing her chest forward. In a much brighter tone, she repeated the phrase. "Hael og sæl!" She waited for a moment, before she exhaled and relaxed her posture. "Seriously, Mama, I promise you, I do it right when it is not you," she said, hoping her mother would not insist they roleplay the scenario, as they had many times before.

She peered down her muzzle at her daughter when she caught the tone of her voice. She blinked owlishly, and noted that her daughter took that as a cue to smarten up and act appropriately. Her paws weren't perfectly squared up, and puffing her thin chest out like that wouldn't do much for her balance. She sighed softly, lightly disappointed that Thyra struggled so much with the basics- and she'd been learning them since she was a puppy. 

She offered an excuse and Solveig nodded, plodding forth with a smoothe nod, as though she might reach out to embrace her daughter after all. Instead, though, when she leaned toward her daughter, it was to give her a solid headbutt to the loose muscle at Thyra's vulnerable flank. With her feet spread so wide, it was an easy target.

Ok, so it might have worked! She breathed a sigh of relief and let her guard down when her mother came toward her. Finally, they could just be mother and daughter, especially after having been separated for over two weeks. She relaxed and even leaned in toward her mother- only to feel the peak of her mother's head catch her squarely in the flank, causing her to cross her hind feet and plonk her hind end to the ground. 

She knew then that she'd messed up. 

She picked herself up and put a bit of space between them. "Yes yes, I know, I know what I did wrong- it was my stance, as usual, I will work on it," She assured her mother. Words she had spoken so many times before that they both knew it was an empty promise. Her tail waved softly. "Can I just be glad you are here, now? Asvoria says this will be our new claim! It is called Hljóðrfell" She said, eager to move on from training to the possibility of getting to show her mother around.

Solveig relented, with a light smile. At least her daughter was aware of her poor technique, though it pained her to know that the promise she offered would likely fade over and over again. She knew the spirit of a shield maiden was in there, somewhere- but so were so many other desires. Selfishly, she wished it was simpler for her daughter to follow in her footsteps, especially now that it was only the two of them. 

"Hljóðrfell," She repeated softly, thoughtfully. It was a good name; the Gods would have guided Asvoria in naming the lands, she felt. She nodded. "Show me our new home," She said, finally bowing her head to give Thyra a fond nuzzle.

Finally- her mother became a normal wolf again. She was used to having parents who were dedicated to their trades, but she wished so much for them to see her as her- not simply as another addition to their fold of warriors. She was too unsure of herself to interpret the word of the Gods as Asvoria did, but knew that there were high expectations for her. Her mother had worked so hard to break free of her humble beginnings- Thyra did not want to let her down. 

She would lead her mother through the forests, along the river that dwindled down to the ocean in one direction, and up to a long lake in the centre of the pack. She sought approval every step of the way, hoping her mother would see this land as profitable as their last.

While she was interested in seeing the land that Asvoria had deemed fit for their new claim, she watched her daughter carefully. Thyra had lived here for more than a few days- she knew the terrain, and it was with pride and hope that she led her mother from one landmark to the next. 

She took interest in the cave, located at the base of a tall, rounded foothill. The air hummed and she nodded when it was decreed as a sacred place. 

The blueish waters paled in comparison to the lake at the highest altitude, which had a slightly greenish hue to it. It was clear, cool and fresh. Water that came from the heavens, and had not had to trickle down through rivers and lakes. This lake, too, she felt was cleansing, powerful. 

Once they reached the forests again, Solveig brushed her shoulder against Thyra's and uttered a happy growl. The decision to leave had been hard; but her daughter was helping her to see that it had been right. This was especially important, given the fact that Solveig had been the one to cause the fracture in their family unit. "Let us go find Asvoria," She said softly, as they began to track her trail.

Solveig was hard to read on a good day, and her stone-faced ways made it difficult for the girl who was eager to please. She was given a nod here and there, or a grunt- and she knew her mother's nuances well enough to know that this meant approval, but she wished her mother wouldn't restrain her thoughts so much. Would it kill her to crack a smile? 

She would have to take what she was given, though she was always left wanting for more. When her mother brushed her shoulder, she tilted herself toward Solveig's chest, momentarily halting the ash-furred wolf the way a sheepdog will guide its own owner. She heaved a sigh at her mother's request. 

The work was never done. 

Nevertheless, she nodded, and trailed along as her mother took up the lead, following tracks left behind recently by their leader.