Silver Moraine chain hits my chest

For @Thuringwethil, this is probably a joining thread. Catching up on other threads the rest of this week, but this should have gone up a week ago. >_o;

Magpie still felt conflicted; her urge to settle down and her traveller nature seemed at constant odds. But the winter was swiftly deciding for her, as instinct commanded that the ordinarily social and extroverted woman avoid her own kind— she did not want to appear a threat in a season of limited resources. Even drifters life herself would view her as competition, as danger... and Magpie had always been a lover over a fighter. She would not bet on herself.

It was too late to meet with the Corvidae at their winter grounds, and she had already traveled far from the caldera— a territory that would welcome her, no doubt, if she hadn't insisted upon moving on. She trailed the odd, rocky landscape that seemed so out of place in the rest of the valley, scenting the air and pondering her next move. She had never visited this portion of the Wilds before, and knew nothing of the packs that did (or did not) reside here.

Thuringwethil hadn't spent much time south of Sleeping Dragon. Gyda knew the southern and western areas much better than she did, but it left an expanse of territory unknown to her. She doesn't care much to go toward Phoenix Maplewood, keeping her distance, but she travels purely centered around diplomatic education. Using her environment to her advantage in her leader would take getting to know what she has to work with. The further down she travels the rocky pathway, she opens up a whole new world of wolves she isn't sure she has the stomach for.

The wolf up ahead catches her attention and hesitates moving forward. She studies the canine for the few moments she has before being spotting, a sore thumb with her dark fur and the white blanket covering most of their trail. Her ears swivel forward and she strains against the urge to lift her tail--a wolf of another pack wouldn't see heda--she doesn't expect the wolf ahead to bow just because she approaches. Neutral territory lived up to the name in these lands and her strength in coalition among the clans shredded once Seageda dissolved into nothing.

She pushes the frustration away, unable to blame anyone, and doesn't deviate her path to avoid the dark woman ahead.

The sound of a stranger approaching reached her before the scent of it did, and her head lifted in alertness. Black ears sought out the footfalls, guiding green eyes to find the source. Magpie's body tensed when the dark form finally entered her view, and she stood perhaps a little taller— a defense mechanism, born of instinct, though the other didn't seem to feel the same, for its posture and gait were relaxed. The Corvidae turned her head towards the breeze, though her eyes never left the approaching silhouette, and she tasted the air to glean what she could.

Her tension was not born of challenge or dominance; it was meant only as defense, should the other think she would be an easy sport. Tales of cannibalism were rare, of course, but when they were told, it was often with the desperation of winter as a backdrop. It was too late to run to avoid an encounter, and so Magpie merely stood and waited— for the other clearly wished to cross her path, or its course would have altered already.

I'm sorry my post is short :o

Even when she’s spotted, Thuringwethil’s gait remains smooth as she gets closer. The other stiffens to make herself a little taller and she feels the corner of her lip twitch. She resists the urge to lift her head above her shoulders, allowing a chill down her spine to prevent fluffing up her coat. For a moment, the dark leader allows herself to shed her throne.

Slate eyes rest easily on the other’s face, the gleam of her bright green eyes hold her focus as she settles a few yards away. Thuringwethil’s only greeting a subtle tilt of her nose.

The stranger— a female, and a pack wolf, Magpie could now tell from the subtle messages carried in scent— halted yards away, remaining silent. Green eyes narrowed slightly, suspiciously in thought as no words were forthcoming. Only the confident lift of a nose, and nothing more. Her own posture held for another moment, and then melted away to one of neutrality. The distance made it clear there would be no scuffle, but that the other did not speak or move on kept Magpie on edge.

"Hello," she finally said, carefully, when the other made no motion to begin the conversation.

A small part of her, tucked away somewhere when she left her home, expects the other wolf to recognize her. The way the stranger eases into a neutral stance instead of a submissive one leads with unfamiliarity. She knows she’s too far from her homeland to be a common occurrence and the changes of the last few weeks left her side empty of an advisor or guard. Even Snacha hadn’t come this far with her.

“Hello,” she greets, offering a gentle whisk of her tail against the backs of her legs. “Where are you headed?” Thuringwethil lifts a brow in her question, looking over the other wolf’s shoulder. None of follow either of them, she hadn’t really planned her own trip on how far she’d planned to go, but too much further would extend her trip a little farther than she intends.

There was no way for the Corvidae to know who she stood before, nor that this pack wolf actually led one— but they were on neutral ground, and the other's posture had set the tone for their encounter. Magpie had no reason to submit, and so she stood— perhaps a little suspicious, a little guarded— as neutrally as she could manage. She wasn't sure what had gotten into her; it was unlike her to be so nervous, so anxious. She attributed it to the odd feelings that seemed to have awoken upon her second birthday.

Still, the strange woman seemed friendly enough, if not a little... odd. Magpie decided to shake off her nerves and embrace her usual confident, extroverted personality— if this were to have broken into a fight, it would have already, and the young woman had no reason to believe that telling the other of her plans (or lack there of) would result in harm. "I'm not entirely sure," she responded with a shrug of a shoulder. "Somewhere to settle for awhile."

The green-eyed wolf relaxes a little more and when she speaks, Thuringwethil’s head nods slowly. She’d spent a lot of her time on her own before crossing paths with an old friend, giving her some semblance of what she used to be. Even if Sleeping Dragon isn’t filled with wolves of her culture, it is enough—and her spirit satisfied—to continue her reign. The loneliness felt in her travels, especially when she rarely went more than a few hours alone back home, had begun to eaten away at her.

“You’ll find two options if you keep going the way you’re going,” she informs, glancing back the way she’d come from. “Unless you go toward the sea; there I don’t know what you’ll find.” Thuringwethil’s head spun back around, realizing how little she knew of Phoenix Maplewood should the other ask, though her intentions to direct the dark woman toward them are nonexistent. 

"Thank you," Magpie told her, sincerely. Whatever feelings of mistrust she had felt earlier seemed to have been fleeting; they were gone now, and she felt a surge of warmth and happiness. For all that the dark woman loved to travel, loneliness crippled her— she needed contact with others, for without it she felt incomplete and wilted. Her appreciation was for the companionship (temporary though it may be) as much as it was for the information. Perhaps that was what had gotten into her.

"The sea is wondrous," she said, her words taking on a more bardic quality around the stranger, "but treacherous. I'd rather seek my fortune elsewhere." Magpie stopped there, her pointed pause inviting the other to say what she would about these other places.

Thuringwethil nods her head again, brushing off the information as easy and it surprises her a little she isn’t asked for more but she drifts off, speaking of the sea. The dark woman turns her head, looking to her right, as if she could see the water from where she stands. It still calls to her, a sense of home, but she keeps herself rooted to the mountain she’d claimed.

“I grew up on the water,” she tells the stranger, biting at her lip and whipping her head back around. She struggles to find the purpose of the statement, when she rarely told strangers of her background. The detail, as minute as it is, feels too intimate to let go to someone that doesn’t know anything else.

The only options for the loner were at the end of the moraine, to her right a maplewood and to the north, her mountain. Beyond that, Thuringwethil knows there’s plenty of travel between the her home and the next pack. “There’s Phoenix Maplewood which is the first you’d pass, and then Sleeping Dragon, a mountain to the north east.”

Magpie didn't notice the discomfort— if it could be called that— of the other, as she offered a small tidbit of background. The Corvidae had spilled much more on first meetings without a second thought, and shared in return, "I've lived a lot of places, but never near the sea. I grew up hearing stories of sirens, and selkies, and all manner of creatures that could snatch a careless wolf away." She grinned at that, looking at her companion as if she would find the tales amusing, too. Magpie believed in a lot of things, but some stories seemed to fanciful even for her.

When the stranger spoke of the two packs she would find if she continued her course, Magpie's grin didn't fade, "I like the sound of them. A forest risen from ashes? A mountain that harbors a dragon— now that sounds like a perfect mix of danger and adventure." They sounded like places straight out of the tales the Corvidae told, and she felt a pang of nostalgia.

Living a lot of places seemed a little strange to her but she brushes it off as another detail of the foreign wolves of these lands. Rarely did one of her own leave for another clan—family, marriage, a trade—but they were all formal and under conditions. With the coalition she had in place, it made it easier, but it had all been shattered. A land that had been meant for her until her last breath fell from beneath her feet, sending her down the coastline to continue her reign.

She notes the grin and offers her own little twitch, a hint that there could be something more, but she doesn’t allow it.

“I can’t tell you much about the forest, but Drageda is mine.”

Thuringwethil takes a deep breath and, a few centimeters she pushes her chest back to make room for the pride that swells there. Her head remains above her shoulders but doesn’t shift into a demand and she leaves her tail loping behind her with ease.

Her posture shifted subtly at the stranger's revelation, so subtly that she hardly notice— a micro-expression that acknowledged the position the other female held, though they stood on neutral ground. It was not one of deference or obedience, for Magpie had not pledged herself to the other, but one of respect for what she had. What she had, and what Magpie wanted, though she had yet to truly acknowledge her own ambitions and desires.

"Drageda," she repeated softly. "I would love to hear of it," she continued, the question clear. If the other chose not to tell her, that was her prerogative, but Magpie hoped she would.

Putting Sleeping Dragon into words would be tricky, as the culture of the two leaders come together. Rituals from either side to be performed, as needed. Things Thuringwethil isn’t willing to leave behind were spent learning over a childhood, adolescence, and everything else was shoved at her the day she took the throne. Teaching Lucani her ways had even come up a little bit difficult as the wolf did not fully understand her ways without being immersed and the wolves she led did not know it either. 

“It is a new claim, with my companion, Gyda, as Sleeping Dragon’s queen,” she begins, piecing together information into a few sentences. Gyda often referred to Heda as queen but Thuringwethil left it behind, knowing in the back of her mind the title did not fit the importance of a chosen commander. She barely gets by allowing another wolf to lead next to her, as equal, when her culture only had room for one. “Our cultures are different, but similar enough we are able to merge them into one revolving around loyalty and strength.”

The hint of a grin on her face dies away and she leaves her expression blank, quietly watching while she leaves a moment between her words. She grinds her teeth together a moment, opening up for her own introduction. “I am Thuringwethil, Drageda’s heda. Commander.”

It sounded like something out of the tales, though Thuringwhethil— Magpie mentally repeated the name over and over, so that she would not mispronounce it— wasn't entirely forthcoming with information. A queen, a commander... both women? Now that intrigued Magpie, for it was both familiar and entirely different than what she was used to. It wasn't odd for two of the same gender to love one another, but leading side by side? She had a thousand questions, most revolving around the stirrings she was currently warring with, but none seemed appropriate even for the extrovert.

Magpie wasn't entirely sure what to say, as there had been no invitation— and she didn't think her personal brand of loyalty would be accepted, nor was strength her forte. It was interesting to be sure, and she thought she would like to live there for a time if only to experience it; but she was sure her ambitions would lead her elsewhere someday, and if not that, her desire for new scenery. She didn't know what to make of this companion, this commander— unsure how to read the woman's changes in expression, or lack thereof.

"I am Magpie Corvidae," she finally said, formally. After a beat, she corrected, "Maudlin Magpie Corvidae." The young woman barely remembered her true name, for it wasn't often used except in the most solemn of occasions— but she offered it willingly, now, despite not being asked. It simply seemed appropriate. Then, (in her mind) she lamely commented, "Sleeping Dragon sounds magnificent; like nothing I've heard of before."

There is a lot to learn from either female and Thuringwethil had been learning how to teach others, like Lucani, her ways. She’d seen it first hand in some cases, taking Eli in and testing his will to keep his faith, had asked questions of her title and where she’d come from. The others hadn’t picked up on the interest yet but they would need to if they were going settle in well and really understand their purpose in Sleeping Dragon.

“It is definitely something different,” she explains, shifting her weight to turn so she could easily go back the way she’d come from. “It’s a learning experience for all of us but both of our ways have meaning to them,” she tells Magpie, now that she’s absorbed her name. “And our ways are fair, even if they are harsh.”

Thuringwethil kept her head pointed at Magpie, watching her expression alternate from interest to wonder, and she allowed the grin tug at the corners of her lips. It’s faint, but she’s pleased. “I have room for you, if you’re interested to learn.”

She was quiet for a moment, after the invitation came— there was risk in this, promising something she was unsure she would be able to truly commit to. It wasn't her way; Magpie's only true commitment was to herself, and it had always been so. Her heart traveled as much as her physical body did, and as much as she was beginning to crave a pack and family of her own, it seemed that this would always be so. It was a song and fire in her blood; and that was the source of her internal conflict. But there was also risk in allowing the opportunity to pass, for she may not live long enough on her own to create the life she so ambitiously wanted for herself.

It seemed only fair that she responded honestly, for if it were Magpie at the helm, she would expect no less from her followers. In her youth, broken promises were left in her wake— but she had learned that her word could still be trusted and true, if only she were also honest with herself. "I would love to learn, Thuringwethil," she responded, slowly and carefully so as to pronounce the woman's name correctly. "But I am a drifter; it's my blood. I can't promise my life eternal to you, but I'll be loyal to Sleeping Dragon for as long as I belong to it."

What smile she manages fades away once Magpie explains the downside of her proposal, her expression flat and her head lifting just a little higher as she considers what’s put in front of her. Most wolves at her borders, Seageda or here, devote their loyalty to the pack. Their life, that if needed, they’d spare it. Magpie only offers it temporarily and, with honesty, Thuringwethil slowly nods her head in understanding. Her own desire to travel did not reach much further than the borders of her home but some wolves, if managed by that of trade in travel, would come and go.

“I do not have room in my ranks for drifters,” she tells the older girl but with a hook in her tone, she holds onto the silence in her court. “Wolves that abandon my hierarchy are not welcomed back and are killed in their attempt.”

Thuringwethil gives the woman a moment to consider her words and whether or not she’d back out now or give heda a chance at a proposal. “You may keep my offer at a spot in my ranks if, when the time comes and you feel you are meant to leave, you come to me. I will determine then if your time and work is sufficient enough for us housing you in my home,” she warns, then continues: “because Drageda will never leave you.” You will always answer to me, she thinks, jaw clenched and brow raised.

She nodded at Thuringwethil's initial response, believing that to be that; they would go their separate ways, and Magpie would seek out this Phoenix Maplewood and hope that her terms would be more acceptable there. If it did not work out, then... Well, the Corvidae had no intention to join a pack simply to die at its teeth if the winds changed and she chose another life. Better to die now, this winter, and with her freedom. Magpie began to turn, feeling that there was nothing more to be negotiate, but halted and looked curiously at the other as she continued.

For a moment, the Corvidae said nothing and simply considered the proposal. It was fair enough, though she didn't like the thought of being unable to leave at her own volition— while she would pay back her debts, it was clear there would be negotiating. It would rely on the subjective decision of the young wolf before here. As for Drageda never leaving her... well, neither would the Corvidae. She couldn't suppose what Thuringwethil truly meant by that.

"And why should I choose the Sleeping Dragon over the Phoenix?" she finally questioned, though the offer presented had stayed her for now. What could Drageda offer that would be worth her indentured servitude?

Thuringwethil doesn’t try to stop Magpie when she makes to move but she’s at least caught enough to hear the conditions. It’s quiet for a moment and she remains still, giving the woman a chance to consider what she thinks to be a fair trade off. Thuringwethil is offering her a home, a place in her ranks to grow, and to keep her belly fed and safe from the lonely life of a straggler. It is only fair she gets enough in return when her loyalty to Sleeping Dragon has limitations. 

She can’t stop the smirk that appears on her features as she’s tested, presented with the option of Phoenix Maplewood instead. The game the other wants to play isn’t in her sights to try and play. She’s made the offer, Magpie doesn’t have to take it. “You tell me,” she finally says with a slight cant of her head. “I’ve made you an offer you can take or counter. I'm really not asking for much, Magpie, you pull your weight for Drageda and I don't see a problem,” The dark leader rolls her shoulder, taking a step back from competing with a pack Magpie didn’t even know, and one she didn’t know well.

The crux of the matter was that Magpie did not like authority— it occurred to her that she never had, which had been a source of contention during her time in the caldera. Either she obeyed the expectations of Peregrine... (Fox had been much cooler), working towards trades she had no true desire to perform, living a life she didn't deem worth living. Or she followed the beat of her own drum, happier, but at odds with those around her. It was easier amongst the Corvidae, where she was truly free... and yet, even there, she was beholden to a tradition that would prevent her from achieving her ambitions.

"You ask that I pull my weight for safe harbor, and that is fair," Magpie agreed, "but I don't know what that means to you." She rolled her shoulders in a shrug, before chartreuse eyes took a closer look at the wolf she sought to make a deal with. "I value my freedom over my life. I can read the stars to you, tell you what they foretell; I can warn you of treacherous storms and other disasters. If the only repayment is that I get to live another day, well, I can get that anywhere."

That would be hit or miss, she knew; some believed in the tellings of the stars, and others believed it nothing more than fantasy. "What is knowing the future worth to Drageda?" It wasn't entirely a bluff, and if it fell short she would be no worse for wear... but her ambitions were coming to the forefront of her mind once more, and Magpie thought she saw an opportunity.

There’s something that gives pull when Magpie speaks and her dark steel colored eyes do not move from her face, watching as her expression changes as she lists what she would benefit from. Her spine runs cold and she blinks once, slowly, and focuses on the length of the woman’s snout as she considers what good could come of the things she knew. Her advisor in Seageda could read the stars and ocean and how they worked together and had been by her side for the majority of her reign. 

“My beta is my advisor; Gyda has her own,” she begins. Magpie wanted more than just the safety and protection of the heda and if her skills proved to be true, Thuringwethil didn’t mind the back and forth banter of negotiations. “If you are as useful to me as you say you are, I can see what I can do.”

Whatever uncertainty Magpie had felt since her second birthday seemed to have dissipated over the course of their conversation; a path toward her ambitions was now becoming clear. She had been wise to trust in her instinct to leave Fox to the caldera and not interfere there. It had been a stale environment, filled with routine and obedience, without any culture. And while the Corvidae would always be part of her, she longed for something that would be only hers. It seemed that she had judged Thuringwethil and the Drageda correctly; though the younger wolf was monotonous in her expression, the slow blink did not go unnoticed.

And when the implied promise of a high position in rank was dangled, Magpie's interest was secured— though suspicion lingered, for it was offered almost too easily. It made sense that the wolf with the backing of a pack would have the position of power in these negotiations, but the dark Corvidae did not like it. Thuringwethil had done nothing to earn her trust, and while Magpie usually took things on faith, the proposed contracts thus far had more serious conditions than she was used to.

"How can I trust that the promise will be honored," she questioned, "after I've given my talents to you?" They were at an impasse, she knew— they had only just met, and neither knew the other's character, but they were demanding quite a bit from each other. At the same time, these were not the borders of Sleeping Dragon, and Magpie was not groveling for a spot... nor would she.

Thuringwethil couldn’t stop the smirk that appears on her features but she doesn’t let it linger long. The suspicion is warranted and she didn’t expect the woman to take her up on the offer right away anyway. She can’t admit to herself if it’s the truth or not but the things Magpie can read, can determine for the younger leader, is shine enough to at least push her to pursue a little longer. In the meantime, she shrugs one shoulder and looks away from the loner.

“The same way I can trust you’d actually have talents to offer me,” she tells her with a quirk of her brow. A smirk flutters her features once more. “Think about it. Then come find me.” 

She stands there for a moment, swinging her head back around to look at the dark wolf once more before she turns and returns to her home the way she’d come.