Sleeping Dragon i suggest next time try feeding me to dragons

The trek back to Sleeping Dragon takes longer than it should but occasionally she'd stop to scratch at the wound the grotto wolf left her. She considers diverting her attention to larksong and demand retribution but the idea doesn't last long. He hadn't started anything and ran off not long after she'd made her attack. He knew he'd been outmatched, even in her famine weary form (which slowly gives her realization just how worn) that he didn't stand a chance against her.

She reaches the border and stops to take a break, shifting so she can scratch again at the wound with her back leg. She winces, and whines, as her toes snag the flesh and tear a little but the irritation is temporarily soothed. It burns, still, and her first thought upon her return is to call for @Saria. She knew Gluskap to be a good healer, knowledgable, but her preference for her friend whose patched her up more times than she can count weighs in. Thuringwethil moves further into the territory, headed forward her cave where she plops down at the open, and calls for her friend.

Her name was on the winds a lot lately. It wasn't bad, necessarily, but, when she heard the summons from her heda she moved faster. It didn't take long before she was there with the dark woman, making a little tsking sound that the commander had heard for as long as they had been growing up. "Again?" She asked with a bemused smile, moving to lift her head from it's respectful place so that she could reach the wound and started to clean it gently. 

The way of her wolves was harsh and rough. She could expect such injuries not just from her commander but from her wolves too. She didn't stop though, cleaning the wound thoroughly. If the Heda wanted to talk about what had happened, she would do so. Saria didn't particularly care what had happened - she was just curious. 

It does not take too long for Saria to show up, a smirk on her features as she questions her. Her own smile appears, despite the pain, but the injury is minor compared to what she's had before. Most of the damage had been caused by her own scratching, trying to rid the sensation and only making it worse. Thuringwethil turns her head a little and allows the healer to inspect and work on cleaning it. Her face distorts in the discomfort but she keeps still.

"A welcome home gift, like the old days," she says with a chuckle and flick of her tail on the ground.

Thuringwethil doesn't question Saria's care, trusting her to know what to do with the mess of a wound behind her ear. Just thinking about the Grotto wolf sends a flood of irritation, considering how easy it might be to just wipe the wolves out and be done with them. Their members were numerous and full, even if they are weak. Soon, perhaps, but she keeps the thoughts to herself for the moment.

"I had gone to the maplewood," she explains, sure that Saria would remember the brief history of Drageda upon her arrival. "A grotto wolf was there. The coward got one bite in before he fled, but not before I tore his shoulder up." Thuringwethil makes a little shrug but winces and hisses at the motion as it sends a wave of pain up her neck.

It was hard to stray from the commander's side, yet she must. There were things that needed to be done and she also needed to respect the commander's need for discretion. If Wildfire hung around her like a lovesick puppy all the time, it would be a dead giveaway. So the yearling hunter forced herself to move to the territory's outskirts to scout for small game, which she delivered to the cache nearest to the whelping den whenever she made a kill. This task preoccupied her for a few hours, then she took a break around noon to nibble at her latest catch and found herself wandering back toward the Heda's den without even thinking about it.

A little over halfway there, she heard the commander's call. Licking her lips, Wildfire hastened the rest of the way there and found a grayish figure standing over Thuringwethil. She smelled blood and immediately scrambled to the commander's side, nearly forgetting herself as she reached to nose her ear. But then the Sjötta froze and drew back slowly, amber eyes grazing over the wound on the Heda's crown momentarily before catching her eye. Then, finally, she turned to acknowledge the other she-wolf.

Wildfire could not remember ever feeling something like this as a burning, possessive jealousy rose within her breast. She's mine, she thought loudly in the stranger's direction even as she tried to school her face into a friendly expression. The Sjötta was a little surprised at herself and felt her cheeks heat. She shifted uneasily, trying to think of what to say even as she tried to shove the unwarranted covetousness into a dark closet at the back of her mind and smooth her metaphorical petticoat.

"What happened?"

She laughed softly as Thuringwethil spoke, still working at her cleaning her wound. Of course it hurt, but she had never known her commander to shirk away from pain. "Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim." She hummed out. When the truth came down out and it was revealed that it had been a wolf of the Grotto Saria let loose a low growl. The fisa stiffened a bit, her hackles lifting in mild irritation. "They were cowards - this does not surprise me." She said, lip curling a bit. "They ran before, they will always run." 

She was quiet for a moment, nearing her leader again as she cleaned her wounds. "I will bring herbs to you, to keep the infection at bay. I will need to find them." She knew that not much had come back yet, and she didn't want to take from what was in the pack's borders yet - not when there was so little. She would go further down towards the valley. 

She halted though, turning to look at the female that approached. She could see the stiff look, the forced shift of her appearance. She was so close and it immediately made Saria uncomfortable. Not from jealousy, as hers was a position that no one could take. "A brief altercation with a Grotto wolf." She explained quickly, not stepping back, but still looking over the female for the sake of ensuring there was not another injury on Thuringwethil.

“Otaim,” she says with a grin before Saria goes on to speak negatively of the Grotto wolves. She only knows what Thuringwethil tells her but she’s already caught on to the tension and if it keeps her wolves safe, she’s okay with it. Still, she speaks the truth. Reek had proven his cowardice, followed by the wolves in the moraine and her recent attack only continues to prove it.

Saria is about to leave when Wildfire steps up and Thuringwethil turns her head, feeling the warmth of a nose near her sensitive wound. Her ears shift on her head and she moves at the same time Wildfire steps back. Thuringwethil shifts her weight and stands, glancing back toward her friend as she explains briefly what happened. “One of the ones from the moraine,” she adds, remembering Wildfire had been there that day when Thuringwethil took their kill. “The wound’s not that bad,” she says to assure her, glancing toward the flame of a wolf. “Saria knows what she’s doing.”

The stranger answered first and Wildfire looked at her shrewdly, then turned when Thuringwethil elaborated. Her lips parted when the commander quickly reassured her that the wound was superficial and that she was in good hands. The yearling's mouth clapped shut and she nodded, inching backward half a step and then making a point to shoot Saria a look that was simultaneously apologetic and grateful even as she remembered her manners enough to say, "Saria, nice to meet you. I'm Wildfire."

"Why, though?" the Sjötta wondered next, sharp amber eyes returning to the Heda even as she resisted the powerful urge to move closer to her again. She figured she was standing close enough that she could seem like a concerned pack mate, a friend, and nothing more. "Was it random or...?" Goodness, she just wanted to stretch out her neck and place gentle kisses beside the commander's ripped ear. The impulse surprised her a little, so she marveled at it a moment before quashing it.

She was instantly suspicious at the varying emotions of the other female, Wildfire. This was not one of her firebirds, not a person she knew, and yet, she felt judged a bit. Oddly set off. She couldn't place a word on the feeling exactly, only aware that she was not sure exactly the nature of the interaction. She felt as if there was something about Wildfire saying that she didn't belong - that she didn't deserve to be there. Thuringwethil saying that she knew what she was doing didn't exactly reassure her either. She knew her worth. Saria always had. The thought of showing others though, ones who were not her kind, was still strange to her. 

"It is clean." Saria said, stepping back just a hint. "Ai lin yu figa." She said, speaking their native tongue not only because it was more comfortable for her but because it was a small way to control the situation. The stranger couldn't take that from her. Saria took a moment to meet her Heda's eyes, sparing a brief nod to the other female before she turned to scout out some herbs for the commander to ensure that she did not succumb to something so simple as an infection.

Saria had never let her down, she did not plan on doing so either. 

stepping out for a bit so you guys aren't held up while I deal with things. Might pop in towards the end just for dramaz.

Their introduction is short lived; Saria doesn't even response. Thuringwethil tenses a little but her slate eyes don't leave the healer in that moment of awkward exchange. The way she scrutinized Wildfire leaves her to question why and as Saria begins her departure, she swings her attention back to the girl. Most of her questions have gone unanswered still but it isn't until the other is gone from the area that she puts more attention on Wildfire. For now, she leaves the tension behind and tries to relax now that her wound is clean.

"I found him in the Maplewood and I chased him off," she explains with a shrug of her opposite shoulder. "It wasn't the one that killed the calf."

The opposing wolf didn't leave a last impression on her the day of the kill big she'd recognized him easily in the maplewood. He still carried the grotto scent, leaving her clueless about his departure, but the task had been handled. She'd gotten rid of the threat from her land but she knows she can't protect it all the time unless she organizes something bigger. She shakes the thought from her head and shifts so that she's at least sitting upright.

With a few parting words, Saria suddenly turned to go. They were meant for Thuringwethil but Wildfire nodded absently, recognizing the words I, will, bring and you, if not the final one. She assumed it meant medical supplies of some sort. A grateful smile tugged at her lips and she bobbed her head again in response to the healer's gesture, eyes lingering on her retreating form only briefly before flicking to the commander. She was much too caught up in her to have noticed anything off about Saria's demeanor.

She no longer resisted her earlier urge, gently nosing and kissing the torn flesh behind her ear, careful not to touch the wound itself. "I'm glad it's nothing worse," she breathed into Thuringwethil's ear, pressing a smile into her black fur before nipping at her cheek and splaying suddenly at the commander's side. "She's bringing back medicine of some sort?" she guessed, glancing in the direction Saria had gone. She was grateful for this time alone with the Heda but still hoped she would be back soon, to help alleviate her partner's pain.

Movement doesn’t seem to play a big role in the wound, unless she moves her head more than a few inches to either side. Thuringwethil plays with her range a little and feels her skin pull too much when she looks too far to her right and easily returns back to a normal, stoic position. It won’t likely interfere too much with the way things are and in a day or two it’ll be completely scabbed over and nothing but a small scar she won’t see in the long run. She finds herself much more interested in the wound she left him.

“Yes,” she says, slowly turning her head toward Wildfire once she’s spoken. She grew up learning both tongues and speaking interchangeably occurs once in a while. Hearing Saria speak one and transition into another—even if she doesn’t think much of it then—isn’t enough to throw her off. To Wildfire, whom might not understand, might be confusing. The concern Thuringwethil puts off for herself, rather than an interest in her language, lest she might have explained more.

Instead, she shifts and leans against the side of the cave near the opening she sits, and watches for Saria’s return.

“She had been one of the main healers in Seageda. She patched me up after the conclave,” she says, recollecting the blur of moments leading up to when she actually could receive care from someone other than herself that cold, cold night.

Oh, wow, Wildfire thought even as her previous jealousy suddenly reared its ugly head again. Thuringwethil and Saria had clearly know one another a very long time. Perhaps they were even close. The yearling was self-aware enough to catch and question her own emotions. What is your problem? her inner voice scolded. She was not typically the jealous type at all. Was it because their relationship was a secret? Was it because Saria was another woman? Was it because she (Wildfire) was just insecure? Was it all of the above?

She knew better than to give away any of her inner turmoil. Aside from the briefest of scowls directed at herself, the Sjötta maintained a neutral expression as she verbalized her earlier thought: "Oh, wow." She paused, wondering if Thuringwethil would want to talk about it. "Were you hurt very badly?" she queried tentatively.

Her conclave seems long ago as she pulls it from her memories, lips forming a contemplative line across her muzzle. She withdraws from the small caress, missing Wildfire’s warmth as she falls into the cold darkness of her past. Even if she keeps it in the back, it’s always poking out in some form or other, as she watched two wolves kill each other while she takes the life another. When asked about it, she often doesn’t think about herself in the picture but this time she does, drawing back how she’d fared once everything was said and done.

“It was probably the worst I’d ever been,” she says in consideration, remembering the long, cool night she had to survive as the final step. She’d been through battle and attacks since then, even a cougar a few months ago, and maybe it wasn’t just the physical wounds that had taken their toll. “I was 8 months old, I wasn’t as experienced or as big as they were, but—” she pauses, a small grin visible when she turns to look at Wildfire—“I can take quite the beating, so you really don’t need to worry.”

Thuringwethil’s nose leans forward and she bumps the girl playfully before withdrawing and putting space back between them.

She knew some of the basics of this story but she'd either forgotten this detail or never been told. Wildfire's face looked stricken when Thuringwethil mentioned she'd only been eight months old at the time. She had been beaten—and done her more than fair share of the same—while still a baby, by Teekon Wilds standards. She understood that the culture was very different in some ways but it still surprised her that someone should be exposed to such savagery at such a tender age.

Rather than voicing her concerns—she didn't want to risk insulting offending the commander's upbringing—Wildfire forced her lips into a little smile and asked, "Do you know what I was doing when I was eight months old?" It was meant sort of rhetorically, though the yearling took a moment to think back. "I was... still living with my parents, sheltered and content. Although I was considering moving to Moonspear, I'm pretty sure." She paused, humming thoughtfully. "Yeah, because I came of age and joined the adult ranks not long after moving there."

It surprised Wildfire a little when she realized that talking about Moonspear didn't hurt or really bother her. It was like looking back at a dream or maybe even a past life. It felt so distant. Of course, she didn't dwell on her reasons for leaving, the events leading up to it or the day of her final departure. Wildfire was pretty sure those memories would unfortunately remain painfully clear for as long as she lived.

"Anyway," she said in the next beat, "I know you can look after yourself, obviously, and that you're in good hands to boot. But that doesn't mean I don't worry and maybe fuss a bit. That's my right now, right?" the Sjötta quipped playfully, nipping at the fluff on the Heda's cheek before withdrawing, maintaining that little bit of space between them to avoid suspicion.

There's something endearing to Wildfire as she talks about her past and what she had been doing. Thuringwethil, for a long time, didn't realize it isn't custom to raise their children quickly into useful adults. That there are some teachings that could wait and that children could be playful. It had been some time after she'd become heda, interacting with the children and seeing them play with one another. There's often a shadow of feeling she'd missed out, knowing she should feel something, but never quite able to reach it.

Thuringwethil smiles a ghost of an expression, thankful for the shift she brings the talk to the present. She leans into the nip but Wildfire has pulled back already and so she steadies herself. She realizes she doesn't fully comprehend the words—personal relations have always been the thing she lacked growing up. She'd been taken away from her parents at an age young enough not to remember them and then put on one track forward. What friends she had made had often been disguised as something else growing up, something she can prove to be useful to her to hide her relationship

Wildfire's logic doesn't quite pass over to her but Thuringwethil nods—she seems to know more about this than she does, having been sheltered from most relationships. Admitting that feels a little embarrassing so for the time being, she lets the girl guide her into the unknown. She reaches forward and noses her nuzzle after a gentle bump and eventually settled back into a resting position on the floor.

*taps @Saria in case she wants to wrap this up?* :D

When Thuringwethil settled down more comfortably, Wildfire wanted to scoot closer, curl her body against the commander's, offer herself as a pillow pal. She swallowed a sigh when she acknowledged she couldn't do this, not without raising suspicion anyway. But surely it was okay to stretch out beside the Heda and keep her company? That was something a regular ole pack mate would do, right?

So she stretched out perhaps two feet away from the Alpha, neither curled toward nor away from her, forelegs simply laid out straight in front of her. Wildfire did point her smudged snout in Thuringwethil's direction, of course, a soft smile on her face as she kept her quiet vigil. Every so often, her amber eyes scanned their surroundings, anticipating Saria's return with medicine, but mostly her soft chestnut gaze was riveted on the commander.