Sleeping Dragon life should be lived to it's fullest

So I made the assumption that Hush accepted but if for some reason he doesn't this can easily be edited to exclude that, lol. For @Thuringwethil ! <3

Gyda's trip had not been without it's successes, if it had not caused some unease in the male from Donnelaith though Gyda had spoken the truth when she told him that she had given up her desire to claim Stavanger Bay. It was not that Sleeping Dragon was better because the Bay would always mean something to Gyda, but she believed that Sleeping Dragon was a new start ...and perhaps a chance to set aside the grief that had been left to fester like an open wound in her heart at the acknowledgment of her Ragnar's death. Upon beginning to claim the territory and to search out recruits Gyda had been busy and this had helped ease the ache. Time would heal the concealed wound she carried like a heavy weight. Already, it did not hurt as much as it first had. 

Despite the successes of her personal trip she was glad to be home. She had parted ways with Hush upon their arrival, sending him off to rest or meet with his fellow pack mates. Gyda did not think his silence would cause many issues for wolves were adapt readers at body language. She did not need the confirmation to know that Thuringwethil kept herself busy during their time apart. There were new scents that the viking queen did not recognize upon her re-entrance into what would soon become the pack's territory. Knowing this, Gyda hoped that the dark colored woman also allowed herself time to heal from the lone male's attack. 

She did not get far into the territory before she lifted her muzzle towards the rapidly darkening sky and sent out a howl for Thurin, letting her partner know that she was home from her journey.

Thuringwethil doesn’t know the land as much as Gyda might and so her ever growing absence made the dark woman worry. She does what it takes to ease her apprehension and walks the borders, marking the scents that grew weak, mixing with the others. She couldn’t even smell Gyda’s scent anymore. The others pull their weight and they’ve done well since they’d joined and so far remained faithful but it isn’t the same without her friend.

The howl immediately gives her pull, nearly stumbling as she begins her trot in the direction it had come, and does not leave Gyda waiting for too long. A smile tugs at her lips as the sun begins to set behind her and a shine fills her dark grey eyes. Her form glides up next to her and her nose runs along her muzzle before she’s buried it in her mane. Thuringwethil closes her eyes and inhales, reminding herself of the woman’s scent. She forces herself to back away and drink her in, making sure she’s healthy and there are no injuries to mend. There are no fresh scars or wounds days old and maybe a little worse for wear, but she’s in one piece and home. 

“You are well,” she says evenly, smile fading from her features as her shoulders ease back to her usual stoicism. 

Thuringwethil soon appeared, her ebony form unmistakable even as the skies ran dark with the colors of the night. Gyda had not demanded the other woman's presence but she could not say that it was not nice to see her ...because it was nice. Very nice. Gyda returns Thurin's embrace, pressing her nose against the other woman's shoulder for a moment, holding until Thurin retreated back from it. “Yes,” Gyda responded, wondering if there had been any doubt of her well being. It was true she'd been gone longer than she had anticipated but all her stops had been necessary and one stop, even, granted them a new recruit to their ranks. “You are looking better, are your wounds healing?” Gyda knew ...bare bone basic techniques. She had never fully acquired her mother's talent for healing though that had been of the Scandinavian's own choice and failure, admittedly.

“You have been busy while I was away,” Gyda observed offering Thurin a partially demure, partially sly look. “I do not return alone myself.  I picked up a recruit on my way back here. I...do not know what to call him for he does not speak. He can bark but I do not know if he simply wishes not to speak or cannot. He is capable that much I do know.” They would need to give him some sort of nickname to address him. Admittedly, it wasn't anything she'd thought to converse (relatively one-sided as it would have been) with him about on the way to Sleeping Dragon — mostly because she had not needed to introduce him prior.

“Yes. They are barely scabs at this point,” she tells her with a hint of a smile upon her face. It isn’t entirely the truth but she doesn’t hold it up to a lie. The wounds on her neck have scabbed over and occasionally pull tight against her skin. If she puts too much force into something, the ones on her front right leg might open it but it hadn’t since the day they’d gone hunting together. “Lucani,” she begins again, presenting one of her own recruits, “is a healer. She helped.” She considers telling Gyda to find her later for the older woman to look over but she bites back her tongue. If something is wrong, she knows Gyda would mention, but the worry lingers in the back of her mouth. 

News of an additional recruit brought home, however, eases the acid licking her throat and she slowly nods. They did not need to reply on speech to get a message across but the ability for detailed and intricate ideas favored heavily but they could work around them. The wolf must have been capable enough for Gyda to bring him that as long as he submits to her and can provide for the pack where needed, Thuringwethil would be content. She can’t make the decision in the moment but when she seeks the wolf out and look him over for herself, she’d feel better with the wolf in her home.

“There are two males on the borders,” Thuringwethil starts up, nearly forgetting the conditions of their home. “Eli is from Seageda. He was one of my warriors. I don’t doubt his faith in me but I cannot let myself trust him. Not yet. And a wolf came looking for a home. Smoke. He’d been an alpha before, wherever he’d come from. He still carries himself that way and he’ll have to leave it behind to make it past the borders.”

“That is good,” Gyda spoke giving pause before adding, “I was worried you would not give them the time they need to heal.” It was true. The shield-maiden stole a brief and quick glance at the scabs upon her partner's neck, unable to help but think if she'd have gotten there sooner those marks would not have been made upon Thurin's flesh. Though Gyda hardly minded scars — had thought Ragnar's own deliberate scars were the most beautiful things she'd ever seen — it was not the thought of scars that bothered Gyda. What bothered Gyda was that Thuringwethil had been harmed at all. While such things were unavoidable in life Gyda felt responsible because she had not realized what had been going on in her own home until damage was already done. Never again, the viking queen vowed to herself. Never again would her wolves be harmed on her watch ...and if they were only the Gods could help the wolves that did it — because she would be merciless and ruthless with her punishment when she caught up to them.

“Is she?” This naturally interested Gyda and mentally the shield-maiden made note to seek her out for a lesson or two in the future once the pack settled in and everyone became accustomed to their rank. Gyda is contemplative when Thuring mentions two males: Eli who hailed from Thuringwethil's own previous home, and a second male: Smoke. Whom Thuringwethil informed Gyda that had once been an alpha and that he had yet to lose it. In that moment Gyda was reminded of Ragnar ...for as she'd heard it from her mother that was the very same way the late Jarl had acted until he seized reign with Pump's death. In an instant Gyda was fascinated and weary. Weary because she knew that men who could not accept their rank were dangerous. Ragnar was the prime example of it. “Will it be an issue?” Gyda inquired, seeking Thuringwethil's personal opinion on the matter.

“You underestimate me,” she murmurs with a playful pull of her lips. Thuringwethil liked to think she knew her body well enough when and where to pull back. She worked until it ached and forced her to ease the pressure of what she’d been doing. She did not have the time to rest with their pack brewing and their claim on the horizon now that Gyda has come home. “She had a big hand in the healing,” she says through a grin. Her leg wouldn’t be as well off as it is without the older woman.

Gyda’s concern about Smoke mimics Thuringwethil’s brief worry when she met the wolf. She’d kept her irritation at bay and given the wolf the least she could give to keep him apart of the pack. He had a peg or two he had to go down or else he’d eventually be chased away. “I think he just doesn’t know how to leave it behind,” she tells her companion. She’d been shaken away from her own home but the thought of being someone else’s subordinate never crossed her mind. It isn’t something easily put aside for some and she’d give him the time. “If I am wrong, we’ll dispose of him.”

The look Gyda gave Thuringwethil was a mix of coy and affectionate. “I worry about you,” The Scandinavian corrected the other women. Gyda was silent but offered a contemplative nod when Thuringwethil confirmed that Lucani had a big hand in the healing of her wounds. “Perhaps I shall seek her council and work on what little I know,” Having basic knowledge of healing was something that Gyda could do even if her desires for trades had shifted on their axis. She was not the same wolf she'd been when she'd been a small girl, she had grown much since being Ragnar's viking princess. She was no princess but a queen. She had never saved a life but instead had taken one. She was a protector, a shield-maiden. The flowery girl of her childhood was long gone ...a distant, slightly embarrassing, but charming memory.

When their conversation moved the one of Thuringwethil's male recruits: Smoke, she became serious and the small smile that had tugged the corner of her lips upwards settled into an expression of stoic contemplation. She heard the ebony Heda's thoughts, knowing that while she should keep Thuringwethil's opinion in mind not to draw conclusions when she had yet to meet him for herself. “I can understand,” And she did. Joining a pack and being a commoner after she'd became Queen had not even once been a consideration. It would have been...would Stavanger Bay and Ragnar still be around. If Ragnar were still alive she could say with certainty that she would not have been standing here now.

But those thoughts were nothing short of hypothetical and the “what if's” served no purpose to her, other than to pick at the wound that was healing achingly slow as it was. “He can transition, we can give him time but he has no choice but to recognize our rule and authority now or I will chase him from these lands myself.” It made her uneasy to know that her rule would potentially be questioned by another because they'd once held a similar position and therefore though they knew better. She would not have her authority challenged, nor would she see Thuringwethil's challenged, either.

If there was one thing Gyda didn't do well with ...it was insubordination.

Thuringwethil smiles playful as Gyda states her worry but the dark woman shakes her head, warding off the concern. There is little room for weakness as heda but she could only push herself so far, level headed enough that she could only benefit her wolves if she were in good health. The wounds would heal but it wouldn’t stop her from pushing as far as she can without compromising her reign. 

Sleeping Dragon has plenty of business to address but the woman felt the most important parts had been crossed and she gives the viking a chance to add anything else that might be relevant. Her patience is tested, though, and she takes a step forward to close the distance and bump her nose to nose.

“Come,” she murmurs softly, pulling her head back and encouraging the queen. “You should rest.” Heda turns so Gyda is beside her, following in stride. 

She’d never shared the reign, it is not of her wolves to do so for the spirit only chooses one. It battles against everything she stands for but seeing the viking so passionate for their new home is enough to keep it from rearing it’s ugly head and she can settle the anxiety in her presence. She forgets, at times, that there is another at her side but with the return of the viking she’s sure to remember a little easier now.

sorry this is short and utter crap. :c but last post from me & gyda! c:

Gyda did not mind Thuringwethil's nose to nose bump, allowing the dark woman to pull back. The silver draped Viking let out a quiet noise when Thurin encouraged her to rest. It was almost a soft scoff but not quite anything so definitive. “But there is much work to be done,” Gyda protested, knowing that Thurin's heart was in the right place. It only made sense that she should rest but she was anxious to get back to the work she'd left hanging upon her leave. There were borders to be marked, rounds to be made, new pack mates to meet. Rest didn't really have any place in her agenda, not so long as she had anything to say about it. Yet Thurin moved to stand beside her and Gyda let out a loud sigh. “I suppose a few hours of sleep wouldn't kill me.” But as soon as she could the shield-maiden fully intended to throw herself back into her work because there was a lot for her to do.

Gyda protests getting some rest but Thuringwethil doesn’t give her the chance, giving her another nudge in the direction she wants to go. “Nothing will happen if you sleep,” she reassures her, leading her off somewhere safe to sleep for a little while. Thuringwethil tells the woman any details she might have left out in the meantime but she moves to the borders once she’s dropped of Gyda and made her sure she’s drifted off to slumber.