Sleeping Dragon let me tell you what i wish i'd known when i was young and dreamed of glory

Tagging for visibility: @Lucani, @Snacha, @Eli, @Smoke.

Aside from the hunt, Thuringwethil had not exerted herself too much. She’d taken to walking the borders until she could feel the ache begin but now she’s able to do complete the task without hurting. Lucani had checked in on it a time or two and now there were hardly anything to be concerned about. The bites on her leg had gotten deep into her muscle and they still needed to heal, occasionally giving her an ache, but the skin scabbed over healthily enough that she didn’t have to worry about infection settling in.

With the morning behind her, she moves on to the borders and begins weaving herself in and out of the brush. The howl of announcement builds deep in her chest but they are not yet ready. There are gaps where she wants her scent heavily marked and places where it could be stronger. Smoke and Eli’s scents are heaviest but Gyda’s sticks out, making Sleeping Dragon really feel like home. Seageda lingers within her for she still belongs to her wolves, but those here will fill that void. If the others came, she’d welcome them, but their allegiance will be tested.

It was honourable and fascinating to be part of a pack throughout the youngest stages of its existence. Sleeping Dragon... the name had become almost like a mantra to Lucani over the days. And the territory itself had, in turn, become more and more familiar to her. Her healer's cache, her sleeping space, her favourite stream, the snowy crags and dramatic geysers. It had all quickly began to feel like home.

She remained convinced that Thuringwethil and Gyda were worthy leaders with much to offer, and although her conviction was neither unwavering nor blind, it was expressed with respect, duty, and loyalty. The young black wolf who'd accepted her was just up ahead — and Lucani never could resist a chance at company.

Thuringwethil, she greeted the Alpha respectfully, moving her head lower than hers and flattening her ears. She knew the yearling well enough now to be aware that she was not a chatty sort, so she decided to let Thuringwethil spark or deny the conversation and set the tone for whatever followed.

We had free lunch at work today and I ate so much that I'm in a slight food coma.

Thuringwethil turns her head when she notices Lucani and offers a slight nod of her head. The woman had filled out in the days since joining, working hard to solidify their claim. A little more meat is on her bones and her health is promising to Sleeping Dragon. Her own weight had evened out close to her normal size and she's not nearly as lanky or thin. She expects the same from the other wolves, even the two living on the scraps and borders, but she hopes soon to bring them in to a normal regime fitting of their former glory.

"Lucani," she says after a moment, coming to a stop from her patrol. She considers opening herself up for the woman to inspect the wounds as she had before but the progress is far enough she is able to determine on her own. "We are lucky to have you," she decides with a quick swish of her tail above her spine. Finding a wolf with healing capabilities so soon has been a blessing, and she knows Gyda is thankful too. "Care to walk with me?" Thuringwethil moves her head a little in the direction she'd been walking, leaving the invitation for the woman to follow along if she'd like.

Omai! But also, look at our awesome new titles. <3

In the short time Lucani had known Thuringwethil, the yearling had always looked like a leader, tall and fierce and moving with a confidence that rebelled against her injuries and her malnourished figure. Lucani had not automatically decided that the young Alpha would continue to show herself to be respectable, but she had anyway. Each day Thuringwethil had been full of plans and purpose.

Therefore... I'm lucky to be here, she replied to the compliment. It was not meant in a humble, modest way, but simply as a statement of fact. The union of Sleeping Dragon and Lucani had been mutually beneficial thus far.

Naturally, she followed her leader in a casual walk, tip of her submissive tail waving ever so slightly. How does the day find you?

She is glad she is making the other wolves comfortable and safe within her borders. She did not imagine they would be here if they weren’t, Snacha and Eli wouldn’t have followed her if they did not believe. She might have a few things against her but she has always been able to prevail against the odds if they weren’t completely stacked against her. Sleeping Dragon offers that with fresh and old minds alike.

“Fine,” she says with a short nod and lets silence fall between them. She keeps up a steady pace with Lucani at her side for a long moment before she considers speaking up again.

When Thuringwethil needed something in Seageda, it was often there before she could finish the request. She knew where to go to get something done, who to talk to if she needed to, but here they were all getting to know one another. When Lucani’s skills come to mind, she falters in her gait as if she were going to stop immediately to ask but she evens it out into her normal strut. 

“My previous healer had this salve that would prevent infection but it also made the wound heal into a big scar,” she begins, unsure. Medicine did not run through her but she knew it worked better than letting their kill marks heal on their own. “Do you know what that would consist of?” 

why don't i proof read anything

Lucani felt comfortable walking at her Alpha's side, which was not something she had been able to admit when first they'd met. She'd respected the younger female from the off, but had still harboured a level of uncertainty simply because she hadn't yet known what Thuringwethil's culture and leadership entailed. Yes Lucani was still new to it, but the more time she spent on Sleeping Dragon the more comfortable she became.

She remained submissive, of course, and turned her gaze briefly to the girl's leg as she mentioned it. A salve? It could be any number of things. I tend to make mine from various roots if I can find them. But I think it's a little too late for your wounds, she added, returning her gaze to the female's dark face. YThey're already healing, and if infection was going to set in then you'd already be feeling it badly.

*alternates writing and coloring in their new lisa frank coloring book*

When Lucani responds, Thuringwethil’s brows bury for only a moment when she catches herself slipping the conversation. Sometimes it hits her out of no where, reminding her that these wolves are not the same, and she has to take time for them to understand one another. Lucani goes on about her wounds and she shakes her head. 

“Not for these,” she gently corrects. “It is used specifically to scar kill marks.” On the other shoulder opposite her fresh scars and where Lucani walks, she bears an incorrect talley of three. One right next to each other and varying tones in color as they’ve each aged. 

omg colouring. :D

Almost as soon as Lucani had finished speaking she realised she'd got the wrong end of the stick. She wasn't embarrassed, as it had been natural for her to assume that Thuringwethil was speaking of her previous wounds, but she fell dutifully silent so that the Alpha could explain what she meant.

Kill marks.

How curious. If she were to make an educated guess, it would be that this was a part of the culture Thuringwethil had spoken of. Kill marks... a mark given to a wolf when they killed another? Lucani had no problem with others (or herself) killing for survival or territory, as that was all part of life, but marking yourself to boast of your murders? Hmm. She reserved judgement until she knew more.

Kill marks? Are these what they sound like, my young Queen?

Lucani questions her and she takes a moment to consider her words, as if she might have used the wrong choice. She’s confident speaking the common tongue of wolves when she’d been raised on her wolves’ own language. She’d trained with warriors that spoke that of the others and learned at the same time, giving her the advantage, and becoming commander helped ease her into the language fully when she had to deal with others that didn’t understand her people.

“It is an honor, Lucani,” she decides. The wolves not of her culture will embrace it, eventually, or they will be phased out of Sleeping Dragon. Lucani has adapted where she’s learned, so far, and taken an interest more keenly than Thuringwethil originally expected. “We carry the deaths with us, those that we are responsible for,” she adds, returning her attention to the way she’s walking. “Even when there is not enough room for them.”

Naturally, Lucani — who was from an ordinary wolf pack — wasn't inclined to agree that there was honour in the intrinsic act of killing, but that wasn't what Thuringwethil was saying. If the young female had turned to the older one and said simply "murder in an honour, and I wear my kills for glory", Lucani would have respectfully disagreed, and was quite sure that Thuringwethil would be gracious enough to continue the debate. No Alpha wanted blind servants. But on the other hand, no debate was needed quite yet — Lucani needed to know more.

Wearing each kill as a scar is an interesting concept. And honourable indeed if it's to serve as a reminder of the life you took and why you took it. Have I understood this right...?

Growing up around her family, the wolves she called her comrades, she’d learned all these things along the way. They didn’t have classes they sat through, learning each details, but they picked up on them as they grew and were forced to witness or bear. She’d seen her mother take on marks after the battle that took her father’s life, a private ceremony among those she held dear. Her first mark also in the comfort of those she wanted to witness. 

It wasn’t until the next two marks she’d been exposed, forced to take them in front of her wolves as their custom requires. The ones absent from her shoulder would do the same, even if she longs for the comfort of family she no longer has.

Thuringwethil nods her head then as Lucani gets the idea of the marks, even if it only scratches the surface. Lucani isn’t submerged in her way of life as she had been in Seageda and so the young leader gives her a little more to work with.

“My warriors have the option of preforming the ritual in private. Whoever they want to be there, along with a healer and myself,” she explains, glancing toward the older woman. The way about her is gentle and Thuringwethil doesn’t get the impression a mark is necessary to scar her shoulder but she doesn’t search for the information. “Heda, however,” she begins again, speaking of a separate entity, “must receive the marks in front of her wolves.”

I'm almost to one hundred. :o

Only one more to go!

Just like when first they'd met, Lucani didn't spring foolishly into immediate acceptance of her words, respecting Thuringwethil enough to actually consider them logically. She was not entirely sure where her judgemental fell currently, if anywhere. On one hand, there was a nobility in remembering lives took, but on the other hand there was a chance it was causing unnecessary wounds and glorifying murder — especially to any romantic young warriors that joined the pack.

But the concept of kill marks was made more complicated by the fact that it was cultural — a tradition potentially observed over generations. That didn't mean it was right, but nor did it mean it was arbitrary. Lucani was in two minds. But either way, she was very interested in all of this.

Heda... this is a rank, a position of power? she politely requested the definition of the word — and hopefully elaboration.

Thuringwethil slowly nods her head, giving her a moment to gather the words she wishes to explain. They learn over time the ways of her wolves, born into it, submerged completely. It is ingrained, born with the knowledge they don’t have to teach. A wolf, older than she, trying to absorb generations of her ways into a few single conversations. Some of her ways may not translate into Sleeping Dragon and Thuringwethil loathed to leave parts of her behind.

“It is like an alpha, but more,” she begins, moving along the border she and Gyda buries a path into. Occasionally she deviates and rubs her snout against a tree but the strength in scent has remained since she last time she’d walked through. “One is called to lead their wolves until they die and the spirit moves on to the next wolf.”

She’d explained once, after Eli, she’d been called to lead her wolves. Threatened by the wolf at her doorstep, she hadn’t gone into more detail and Lucani hadn’t pushed it. With nothing over her head, she doesn’t ward it off anymore. Lucani deserves to know what she can learn by teachings but Thuringwethil craves the art of living the way her wolves always had. Even if Thuringwethil doesn’t live in Seageda anymore, the weight of the others are still piled upon on her shoulders. For now, they are better off without her as they sort through, questioning their own ways and faith in the chosen one.

They walked side by side along the trodden path, Lucani listening with keen interest. She was paying minimal attention to where they were going. Her subconscious soaked up their surroundings, every rock and evergreen committed to short term memory, a contribution to her growing familiarity with the territory, but all her conscious attention was on Thuringwethil. Although subordinate in posture, Lucani was allowing herself to gaze at the Alpha — not in the eye but in the face, her expression interested. Fascinating, she went so far as to say outloud, this word being a perfect truth.

What a rich, strange, romantic culture. Lucani didn't feel jealous that her own birthpack had been so ordinary in comparison, for her life wasn't about comparison. Instead, she simply felt glad that she was getting to hear all about this.

A young warrior imbued with the spirit of leadership... a noble, thoughtful calling indeed, Heda Thuringwethil. And Gyda...? Such was the politeness and utilitarian interest in her voice, there was not a touch of impertinence — though Thuringwethil may choose not to answer, of course. Lucani knew now why Thuringwethil was Alpha here. But what of Gyda?

She turns to the older woman and smiles. Eli and Snacha had given her her title back when they came to Sleeping Dragon and it graduated unto a wolf that knew little of her ways. A swelling in her chest surprises her and lets the smile fade, returning her attention to the way she’s walking. Seeking approval from others had never been on top of her priority but gaining it from her new followers tug at the corners of her mind.

Lucani parallels the subject and Thuringwethil tilts her nose upward, considering the other leader of Drageda for a moment. She remembers well seeing Gyda after she’d taken her reign in Odinn’s Cove. There had been a hardness to her features Thuringwethil knows from her own transition. 

“Her home had been near mine,” she explains with a swish of her tail. She hadn’t gotten to them for the coalition before things fell apart, though little had she known Gyda had departed. “She led there, for a time.” Gyda’s story is her own and she has no interest in sharing the intimate details Thuringwethil knows best when they kept politics away from their friendship, until now.

It was good to see a smile on the face of the young leader. Like Lucani herself, Thuringwethil did not seem prone to smiling, saving them instead for rare moments of victory or else perhaps the occasional accident. Had Lucani been viewing Thuringwethil as anything other than her Heda, she might have thought her pretty as she smiled. Very pretty, in fact.

But no, there was a stark line between professional and personal here, and Lucani was content to tread it.

She nodded to show she was satisfied with Thuringwethil's answer and had no intention of asking for any more information about Gyda. She was very keen to learn more about the pair and how they became friends and partners. Were they lovers, in fact? Such questions interested Lucani greatly, but, like many things, she would perhaps never know the answer. It was not her place.

Culture is a very curious thing, she concluded, broadening the conversation into something more philosophical. Here we stand, from two extraordinarily different backgrounds, and yet still in the same pack. I wonder very much what Sleeping Dragon will be like in a year from now — I visualise it imbued entirely with the culture introduced by yourself and Gyda, and yet still diverse enough to be a phenomenon of nature.

We can end here, if you'd like! In the next day or two, I'll have a new thread up because Thurin can't stay out of trouble. :x

A year from now, Sleeping Dragon would still be in its infantile stages. Drageda had a long run to accomplish before their roots are settled securely in the mountain, compared to the generations old Seageda. Her parents, her parents parents, and so on. Heda after heda. 

War after war.

After a good night’s sleep, the pack had been no more. 

Thuringwethil takes a deep breath and nods her head, a year to some is a large portion of their lifetime and she knew that all too well, even if something old had settled deep in her chest with the power of all of her predecessors. Lives of her warriors she has seen cut short because of battle, scarred and broken and buried. 

She nods then, after a moment to think about the future and where they’d be, and remains silent aside from the crunching of snow beneath her paws.

Sounds like a plan. ^__^

Lucani liked to muse about things past and present, but she much preferred the speaking of others, and so she fell into a comfortable silence when Thuringwethil did not respond verbally. Each woman dwelled on her own thoughts, and yet threads intertwined silently in tandem.

They walked on quietly, Lucani remaining at the Heda's side until either dismissed or attracted back to her duties.