Snowforest Taiga and, oh, that heart; it loves as harshly as the sun burns

For @Jhala. Other tags for visibility. Toxo's more than welcome to cameo/post as needed. Set just north of Nova Peak, before they cross over to the coast.

She’d spoken with @Wildfire that morning (but not before a kiss, this time initiated by herself) about her plans to go to the ocean again. Partly to stretch her legs and see the salty coast again and partly because she wishes to find @Kierkegaard now that he’s missing from Rosings. There’s a part of her that wants to go south and find this pack, find the information for herself, but she doesn’t—not yet—and instead searches out @Toxochelys to go with her.

The travel is mostly quiet, afraid that if she begins to speak she might spill over with words she’s meant to keep to herself, but they exchanged a little by the time they reached Nova Peak. Passing through the valley, closest to the woods, they settle to rest for a little while. The air has already begun to feel thick and salty and Thuringwethil knows it’s not much longer that she’ll see the waves again and soothe her soul for a little while.

Her guard wanders off to scout the area around them as Thuringwethil keeps a loot out in their immediate area, making sure to keep the male in her line of sight while she remains alone.

Today was weird-- and not a good weird, either. She'd not been so hot anymore, thankfully, but now she just felt sick. She woke up nauseous and patrolled nauseous and then went to sleep with a massive headache. It'd happened the past three days, and she couldn't fucking take it anymore. Illness was never an option for the large Vicar. It was a sign of weakness and meant she was not fully prepared for battle. While medicine was always available, she preferred to walk it off. So she did. 

She wandered from the territory after a patrol, trying her hardest to hold down whatever food she'd eaten-- failing once along the way. It was stupid, no one else in the grotto was sick, where the fuck did she pick it up from? Regardless, she kept walking.

She wasn't completely positive where she was, but she knew the way home. She'd walked mostly in a straight line, so navigation wouldn't be an issue. It was when she was thinking about turning around when she spotted the dark coat of a rather large female she had met not too long ago... though her name slipped right from her tongue-- had she ever been told the name?

"Hey!!" she calls brightly, hoping to grab the woman's attention. "Hey!! uh-- ma'am!" she barks again, tail wagging. 

As if filled with déjà vu, Thuringwethil sees a familiar wolf coming in her direction and, when close enough, shouting at her from across the way. Her muscles tense and she tightens up her posture, looking to either side for a sign of Toxochelys but he remains in the distance. She does not necessarily need him by her side every second, capable of taking care of herself, especially one on one, but she finds herself conflict the closer the other gets. She realizes similarly that she doesn’t know the other’s name, certain they’d never made any personal exchange, but currently remains the least important thing on her mind.

The fur around her neck bristles automatically, only because the wolves belongs to the grotto and there’d been a breech not that long ago. Thuringwethil had done her best to avoid getting close to Larksong for a similar reason but now she’s come face to face again with one.

And it is unfortunate that she’d once liked the girl, even if she hadn’t been honest.

“Perhaps it is not wise we are found together,” she says, knowing that she might not understand the implication, but her own frustration remains while her fur increases the size of her look. The other has her own impressive size but the Larksong wolves haven’t proven to be the brightest of the bunch, and as much as she wishes to give the other the benefit of the doubt, their history has left an acrid taste in the back of her throat.

Despite the Grotto's unfortunate lack of intelligence when it came to bordering packs, Jhala was a trained fighter. She knew the rules of the wild and understood body language better than half the adults she'd ever met. This was no difference. She stops before the woman speaks, her expression dimming as she realizes that the other is clearly not as thrilled to see her. Her words support how she looks-- that she is in no mood for a friendly conversation.

While she might've been intimidating with her fur bristling, the dark vicar does not mimic the others stance. Instead she steps back and gives a polite nod, disappointed that the other isn't an acquaintance. "Oh," she mutters. "Sorry, then," she then says loudly for the other to hear. She gives her a quick look before stepping back again, ears pricking in case she gets a response.

Toxochelys had slipped away, sauntering the slopes and winding a somewhat unpredictable path through the overgrowth of the valley. Even from there he could see the slow recovery at the base of Nova Peak, whose trees had once been devastated by an engulfing forest fire. He did not necessarily appear as though he was there in connection with Heda, but he never roamed far enough to lose sight of the formidable female. It was only a very keen onlooker who would notice the flick of burnished copper ears and the fiery sidelong looks he cast in her direction.
 
He watched with heightened interest only from afar as another fairly large female called to the Commander and made to approach. She was coloured in sable and raw umber, but from his distance he could not discern that her scent belonged to Larksong Grotto. It didn’t matter; she was an unknown and had his rapt attention despite seeming to pay her no notice at all. He continued to prowl languidly and observe their exchange, primed like a lion hunting a pair of stray antelope.

Reply again or archive?

Whatever Thuringwethil expects the woman’s response to be, what she gets definitely isn’t it. Heda blinks a few times when the other leader seems to just… accept the proposition. There’s no question to follow, no asking why, and it takes a second for Thuringwethil to lift her gaze again and nod. Her focus doesn’t leave the other wolf, even as she takes a step back and Toxochelys hovers in the distance. She doesn’t break her focus until she’s sure the other wolf is gone from view and out of the Drageda wolves’ worry.