Stavanger Bay the wrath of heaven

for @Arinbjorn; @Valyri should be nearby so her scent can be referenced & she may hop in!

We oughta mark it. Ain't a pack yet, but it's our home, She'd told Valyri as they'd reached the entrance of the territory once again, and so they'd set to doing exactly that. It's a relatively small area to mark, but the pair splits nonetheless to cover more ground. They'll work on it more in the coming months, but for now, it's a start.
She's finishing marking the southern end of the opening when something rustles nearby, and her head snaps up. Quick strides bring her to the source immediately, and she leaps back just in time to avoid the frantic strike of a disturbed snake. She circles around it quickly, lunging and snagging the tail to toss it against a tree. The blow stuns the creature long enough for her to snap her teeth around it just below the head, crushing it and then crunching the skull for good measure. She sets to work separating the head from the rest, working quickly to avoid spoiling the meat; there's no sense in wasting a good snack.

temperament: phlegmatic

it is from description alone, words passed from father and grandfather to him, as mercurial gaze settles upon the telltale landmarks that kraken knows he has finally made it to stavanger bay. for a moment, steps pause in the shifting dunes of sand as he studies the arching cliff: a nature made door inviting him inside. for the first time in a long time, he feels at ease with himself. the ever shift of his temperament is stolidly calm. he steps thru the arch and takes note, firstly, that he has finally made it to the land where his father and father before him have lived. this place is the cairn birthright as far as arinbjorn's ever been concerned.

it was why he'd left warsaw islands to come to the wilds in the first place.

the second note he takes as he trudges along the sands that he is not alone. there are two female scents intertwined here; fresh though they eventually split. a spur of pursuit — a deep seeded familial connection to the bay and his own rise of unfettered possession — is given for the scent that trails off nearest to him. it leads him to one of the two, whom is, upon closer inspection, tearing apart what appears to be a snake.

what is it that you intend to do with that serpent? for the first time in a long time, the kraken is the first to break the silence, fighting off the slight discomfort that being the first one to speak brings with it.

She goes still for a moment at the sound of another approaching, one ear tilting toward the sound, then finishes her work briskly. She's already lifting her head to inspect the stranger when he speaks, eyes guarded as they flit over his figure. A yearling, alone by his smell. 'Tis a gift for my queen, She answers after a moment, tail curling over lazily in a casual display of dominance. Traveler, eh? If you seek shelter here, you'll need t'bring a gift o' your own, see if Her Grace likes the look o' you. She lets her gaze sweep over him again, more slowly this time, and far less critical. He seems formidable enough; young, yet ripe with potential. A soldier in the making, perhaps. Might be she'll keep you, if it's a home y'want.

'tis a gift for my queen, the woman explains; a small shift of the kraken's shoulders given as he watches her tail curl over her back in though lazy, clearly dominate posture. while, suffering a different temperament he would've taken offense to this; instead, he acknowledges it but does not prostrate himself before her. for he sees no need. the bay is not claimed — else he wouldn't scented border markings prior to entering it — and, as far as he is concerned there is none in these wilds that has better claim to stavanger bay than himself. he is cairn and stavanger bay belongs to his family.

arinbjorn, at her next words, cause a small noise, a thoughtful grunt to sound in his throat; curious and a bit amused at how she speaks as if this is their land and that it is necessary to pay homage to a queen that he does not know nor recognize. he has no need for such titles; trivial and pompous as he finds them. he is kraken. cairn. terrible shadow and reaper of the seas.

i am not a thing to be kept, he wants to say. but, oh, he was. what is the kraken without the master to bind and unleash him? what is your name? and the name of your ...queen? he asks, assuming that calling her a 'self-assuming' queen wouldn't go over well. regardless, the title lilts strangely from betwixt his lips, not exactly betraying his dislike of the title but hints at some of his internal struggle with using it.

Though it doesn't show on her face, the stranger's response pleases her, neither a challenge nor direct submission. He shows more potential by the moment, it seems. Her tail lowers slowly to a more neutral position as he speaks, though she still keeps her head held high. Nefris, She answers easily, though the strangeness of it still prickles at the back of her mind, even after all this time. Valyri is my queen; a High Priestess 'afore she's a queen, in truth, but she ain't like t'demand any o' those fancy titles from your lips. Now your name, traveler. She glances briefly behind her, watching for Valyri's slender form. The High Priestess has always been far better with words than she is, and therefore better suited to dealing with strangers.

arinbjorn watches the slowing progression of her tail lowering to a neutral position; in this he grows steadily more content, the phlegmatic disposition doing the rest of the work. calm as he is now, he does not feel the needling sting of irritation. nefris, she gives her name at his inquiry. the kraken is pleased that his deflection did not offend as he initially assumed that it might. as pompously as she had spoken he had expected to be met with teeth.

perhaps, the kraken considers, he has misjudged her.

valyri is my queen, she further answers, going on to explain that she is a high priestess and that she, like him, has ( as nefris tells it and as arinbjorn interprets it ) an aversion to the titles of pomp. she isn't likely to get them, the kraken responds matter-of-factly; simply. lacking any sort of disrespect. disrespect, like respect, was earned. kraken. he replies, sticking to his 'arinbjorn is for family only' rule. kraken cairn, he pauses, tail flicking across his hocks. this bay, stavanger bay has been home to my family for a few generations. they have came and they have went ...and now i am here. and i intend for it to remain a family heirloom. we are drawn to this place, us cairns.

The Bay is far from theirs. Every intention points to eventually making it more than a home for them, yet they are both aware that numbers are what does the talking. Regardless it is equally necessary to assist with the rehabilitation of this place.
But Valyri is on board with marking the entrance nonetheless. The duo splits; Nefris taking the southern reach while the High Priestess takes the north.
The plan to reunite when done goes without saying, yet when she'd long finished the job and her Champion did not return to her side Valyri grows concerned. Not one to shy from getting her own hands dirty, she strides with purpose, following the path which Nefris left.
She spots her first; uninjured yet unsurprisingly bloodied. Typical Nefris. Yet curious enough she isn't alone. Wrapped in a smokey plumage with an intriguing cage wrapped along his frame, the man at their door is undoubtedly attractive—albeit notably young, not quite completely grown into himself as one in their prime would be.
Stavanger Bay, she repeats in lieu of a greeting, finally having the name of these lands that attract so many. It is no surprise that others had flocked here over generations. If she'd been born to a different family, under different circumstances, perhaps she would be possessive of land within her blood as well. Alas, Valyri only knows that her visions led them here and she would keep her heels dug in much as she could.
We’ve no intentions of denying your ancestral home, Valyri stands with her head held high, yet muzzle downcast and heavy-lidded eyes resting upon their guest. Yet we do have intentions of making it our home, too. It calls to her, just as it called to him—luring akin to a distant flame. Nature works in such mysterious ways, and Valyri refuses to go against its pulls.
Weaving delicately across her lips is a smile, she dips her head in belated greeting; I am Valyri.

aahh sorry for the wait, nefris is skippable from here!

It's good that she's saved the trouble of responding to the man who introduces himself as Kraken; she's certain that, given another moment of handling this on her own, she would have ruined the encounter. Thankfully, Valyri appears, and the day is saved. She goes still at her queen's approach, dipping her head in silent greeting and retrieving her kill before she moves to take her place at the High Priestess's side. She stands back slightly, as is her custom, but remains close, attention immediately drifting from the conversation. She's in work mode now; seeing and hearing everything, yet registering little of what transpires between the wolves before her.

being pragmatic is not always kraken's strong suit; but his temperament today allows him the rare opportunity. another approaches, drawing the shadow of the sea's mercurial gaze; the queen he presumes. as she draws his attention, she holds it as she speaks, ensuring him that she does not intend to deny him his ancestral home. good, for all parties involved because kraken hadn't been asking. he would see this bay as home to the cairns once more, thriving with their seed and blood.

'twas only right, in his mind.

negotiations, he suspects, begin when she says that they intend on making it their home as well. that is fine. kraken agrees, knowing and acknowledging that it cannot thrive with just him, after all. valyri, she introduces herself as, proving his suspicions about who she was correct. kraken. he offers simply in case she missed his introduction the first time when he offered it to nefris.