Qeya River and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt

There had been a few ties with Seageda Thuringwethil had wished she’d taken care of before the decision, but everything happened incredibly fast. Lives had been laid down, pooling at her feet, that when she disappeared in the night, she knew her fate had been sealed. Her spirit flares up against her, urging her to return, but she knows she cannot. There isn’t a wolf from her home she could trust anymore than she could throw them and dwelling on it would not be in her future for long. Everything would readjust and she would find her new home, her new people, and once more will heda be crowned upon her brow once more. 

Sleeping Dragon comes into view once more when she crosses the stream at its most frozen point. The valley that lays out before her is separated by the river now and only some parts have a solid path to the other side. None of it looks steady and for a moment she considers going back and making her way around but it would delay the next time she sees Gyda. Thuringwethil groans, carefully stepping onto the ice in a narrow portion of the river. The water moves beneath her, splashing onto the ice and turning her toes frozen. 

It is then Thuringwethil slips, hitting the ice hard enough for her teeth to puncture her own lips and her mouth filled with blood. She tries to grip the surface but her claws can’t penetrate the sheet of ice beneath her fallen body. A portion of the ice breaks off, leaving her with even less of a surface for her to cling to.

@Snacha.

Snacha had followed Thuringwethil's scent for many weeks and twice as many miles. It was a grueling journey, leaving little meat upon the youngster's bones, tiring her body and muscles more than she had ever thought possible. But it was her duty to follow her new heda, wherever that my be. Snacha's mother - Trigeda's own heda - had commanded her daughter to do well by the Sea Wolves, to bow to their command as she would her own family's, and return to her a spirited warrior rather than a child pretending at war. So when she arrived to find the Seageda's world in disarray, Snacha left behind her fellow chosen Trigeda wolves and went in search of Thuringwethil. Whatever had happened there was none of her business; finding the heda and serving her was.

She had rested in the valley for a few hours before continuing her journey, her heda's scent far stronger here than elsewhere. Snacha, so named for her uncanny resemblance to the sneaky creatures from her home, climbed a mountain and surveyed the area, pausing on a peak to study the wind and its currents, and finally snagged Thuringwethil's scent. Her heart racing, Snacha followed the scent markers toward a mountainous glacier, and finally, to the heda herself clinging to an icy outcropping, slipping and sliding on the frozen surface beneath her.

Being lighter and quick on her paws, Snacha surged forward, keeping her feet spread a bit wider than normal, calling out her name. "Heda Thuringwethill! Ai laik Snacha kom Trigedakru. Ste daun weron yu ste kamp!" Snacha moved quickly, jumping from rock to rock, avoiding the ice that was quickly melting in the warming sun, until she reached a spot where the rocks ended and only the ice remained. Thuringwethil was on yards away now, but still slipping. Snacha slid on the ice toward her heda, snatched her ruff between her jaws, and pulled. She hoped that with her momentum, they would slide along the ice to the other rock behind the heda, and be safe.

She swings her head back the way she came, wondering if she could get enough momentum to throw herself back the way to the bank. There’s a crack and she knows that idea sinks, leaving her with the only option: more forward. She could stand and jump to the next solid surface and she slowly makes the attempt, putting claws into the grooves she’s caused, but there’s another crack that causes her to freeze. Thuringwethil lowers her weight to the ground to reassess what she needs to do.

The voice catches her attention quickly and it takes a few seconds to realize the words are her own tongue. Thuringwethil doesn’t have time to answer when she’s gripped by the scruff and pulled the moment the ice gives way and becomes swallowed up by the river. Her feet try to reach for something solid but it isn’t until she’s pulled across the rock like a wet towel. When she’s free, she takes a few gasping breaths and clears her insides of the water swallowed. Thurningwethil shakes her fur, turning to look upon the wolf that saved her. Her head immediately rises and even though she stands a little unsteadily from the ordeal, her posture does not compromise in front of one of her own. The girl looks familiar—her markings make it hard to forget—and she remembers a tie left undone.

“Mochof,” she says in a raspy, wet voice. Thank you. “I chose wisely, it seems,” she says in the comfort of her own tongue. A deal with their neighbors; Thuringwethil traded some of her soldiers in exchange for the chance to train and mold some of her own. Snacha’s preparation had been completed in vain, for there is no Seageda to serve. “You should not have come here.”

"You need not thank me, heda. I am only doing what is expected." Snacha replied, nodding her head slightly and taking a step back from her leader. As Thuringwethil stepped forward, displaying her posture of dominance, Snacha lowered herself in response, her brown eyes glancing once into her leader's eyes before looking away. While it was assumed that Snacha would live under Thuringwethil's tutelage, they had only met once before today, and their relationship was far from stable.

Then her thanks turned into admonishment, causing heat to rise into Snacha's cheeks. She felt her chest clench in defiance. She had risked her own life by leaving the remnants of Seageda to find Thuringwethil, to figure out where the leader had gone. Snacha had a feeling that the deaths that racked the clan had something to do with the heda, but she didn't want to say that now. Not yet. "If you command, I will return home." It was not what she wanted to do, but if this was to be a good warrior, then she would follow her heda's orders.

Snacha’s stint in Seageda had not begun before Thuringwethil’s choice had been made. She fell victim to the crumbling. The wolves that would still follow her were only corpses now. The wolves coming from the eastern pack hadn’t been considered in those final moments. They should have returned home with the news but the banded wolf stands before her, submits to her, reminding her that she is to never belong to herself. If she returns Snacha from where she came, the information of her location is all they need to seek revenge on what she damaged in all of this.

“No,” the woman decides and raises a brow. “You were the only one to fulfill the agreement. Why would I send that back?” she asks, rhetorical. “I do not need the others.” 

Thuringwethil shakes out her fur, freezing pieces clumping in her fur, pulling and pinching her skin. Cold water from the river makes her uncomfortable and she moves her legs to keep them from stiffening.

 “You know nothing of Seageda,” Thuringwethil commands. She wards off any information Snacha may have picked up along the way. 

Snacha, kneeling before the Commander, listens softly to her words. Relief floods her body as she realized that Thuringwethil isn't sending her home after all, but instead commands her to stay. There is a hint of pride in her voice as she commends her for being the only one to fulfill the agreement. Some movement follows her words, and Snacha glanced up briefly to see the woman shaking out her fur and stamping her feet. The waters are cold and freezing here. She almost suggests they get moving to renew the blood in her veins, yet she remained silent. It is not her place to give suggestions.

“You know nothing of Seageda.” The words resound in her ears as one flicked forward in confusion. Is Thuringwethil assuming she knows nothing of her pack's ways or is she commanding her to stay silent about what happened? Only a moment passed and already Snacha knew that her life here depends upon her loyalty to her commander. "Aye, Commander, I know nothing of Seageda. I was sent here to serve you by Trigeda Clan." Whatever this journey would entail, Snacha was ready for it. "How may I serve you, Commander?"

I'm sorry for any awkwardness, I don't exactly know what's happening with Gyda and what they go over, haha.

The girl catches on, stating the purpose Thuringwethil knew she’d come for. Snacha had her whole left laid out before her and still willing to let her loyalty come on top. The dark woman smiles and nods her head in understanding as she considers what she wants out of her new charge. The rest of the hierarchy with Gyda hadn’t been laid out yet, it had been the two of them, but now Thuringwethil will return with someone in tow. If none of the others she’d run into offered anything in return, she at least has Snacha. 

“We are going back to the mountain,” she says, turning with her nose toward Sleeping Dragon. “We have someone to meet.”

Where they would go from there, Thuringwethil’s unsure, but at least she’ll get her things together and find Gyda again. She still had the higher reaches of the mountain to explore with the wrong turn she’d taken before. The young leader is quiet for the first few minutes, glancing behind over her shoulder to make sure Snacha catches up. 

No problem! <3

While Thuringwethil thought Snacha might have been better off not coming due to recent circumstances in Seageda, the strangely-patterned youth disagreed. This was her life. Since the meeting a few months ago, she had been training with her mother to be a warrior, to learn the craft and trade of a fighter, to become a second. Of course there were other wolves sent along with Snacha, but she knew in her heart that the role of second was for her. Even though the circumstances, the territory had changed, Snacha was not going to let that slip away from her.

And although she was now more bodyguard than second, Snacha would do her job well. Heda Thuringwethil motioned for her to follow and the pair set off toward the mountain in the distance, explaining that they had someone to meet. Though uncertainty weighed heavily upon her heart, Snacha followed without hesitation, brown eyes taking in the area, ears and nose working to take in the sounds and scents, as they wended their way from icy river to mountain to meet this mysterious wolf Thuringwethil had mentioned.