Dragoncrest Cliffs I was snared by a sickness, some fever in my lungs
Fear is the heart of love
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#1
All Welcome 
Vague <3

The bitch was relentless, Rosalyn had to give her that.

At first she'd been optimistic, when she ventured into the Tangle a ways back, that the threat was empty.  Just a move meant to scare them, she and the man, intimidate them into submission.  Now, however, she was marking a line against them within the tangle, asseninely throwing her weight in a place that held little charm regardless.  What the fuck did she hope to prove?

Again, the feeling... walls closing in, her back in a corner....

The frustration was becoming an ever-present shadow on her, and the restlessness she'd felt in the moors was only getting worse.  Paranoia, anger, fear, none of it had ever been something the pirate was able to maintain gracefully, and it leaked out in a way that pushed her to spend more of her time at that border, waiting.

She itched to confront her.

Rosalyn didn't even realize that she was prowling, pacing the border with her single eye staring at the darkened stones beyond.  Holding herself back, but teetering on the edge of a decision.  There was no way she'd miss her if she simply waited long enough.  But what then?  What then.

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It had been a few days since arriving at Dragoncrest, and Njord had begun to understand the lay of the land. It seemed a different had lived here before, some time ago. He had happened upon an old, worn den site carved (seemingly) into the rock. How many families had lived there over the years? Wolves always seemed to re-use the best spots, their dens like heirlooms passed down through the generations.

Life was quiet, but the islander did not know of Rusalka’s turbulent history or the danger bubbling to the East: their neighbors purposefully antagonizing their border. For now, Njord was naïve to this assault or the pressure put on Rusalka… he was simply happy to be meeting other pack members.

With a happy pep-in-his-step, he traveled towards the fringes of their territory, spotting a russet women in the distance. She paced with a fervor only seen in agitated wolves. Not knowing exactly who she was (or her rank), Njord approach slowly. “Hello?” he called with a wave of his red tail.
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Rosalyn didn't realize how deeply in her own head she'd delved until Njord's voice snapped her from it.  She slowed, then stopped and turned to look at him.  That she didn't recognize him clued her in; we'll assume Erzulie told her of his joining.

Njord, I assume?  She asked after she took a breath and a moment.  She wasn't exactly "centered" but she was at least grounded.  Hello.  Rosalyn, Erzulie's wife.  

She was still distracted, with a part of her attention still focused on the woods behind her.  Damnit.  Walk with me?  She asked, stepping away from the border suddenly.  If she didn't leave now she was bound to be drawn towards doing something stupid.

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The sea queen turned to him and her single golden eye evaluated Rusalka’s newest recruit. Njord looked away respectfully (just like his momma taught him), but caught the smattering of scars across the woman’s face and body. Despite the alpha’s many old wounds, her fur was a smooth and shiny red chestnut. She looked a bit older than Erzulie - and quite a bit different – and it made him wonder how long she had been at the helm of the pack.

“Aye,” he responded with a boyish grin, “the one and only.” Cerulean gaze looked back towards his leader as his ears orbited curiously like a satellite dish. Though he could be naïve at times, Njord could tell Rosalyn wasn’t quite present. What distressed her? He smiled with genuine warmth. “Erzulie told me about you,” he explained, “its nice to put a face to a name.”

Like a breaking wave, she turned from the border. Njord glanced into the distance – into the tangle – wondering what ominous force captivated her attention. “Of course,” he replied, simply, and trotted up next to her. Better to not ask too many questions, yet.
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When she first got these scars, Rosalyn might have gotten defensive at the man's innocent remark.  Now she just laughed, a bit surprised but grateful for the unintentional distraction.  Aye, a face indeed.  She replied, leading him back towards the rise that marked the cliffs defining their new home.  I am surprised, honestly.  Erzulie said she met you on the moors... what made you choose to relocate with us?

It was one thing to come upon borders and seek to join, but another to follow an unfamiliar pack to an unfamiliar place.  He'd found them at an odd time, and seemed amiable enough, but what was his purpose here?  If only a home, she could appreciate that, though he must have found few options before to have come this far on a chance.

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[Image: fd05245e-dc17-4656-9d00-623c79311032.gif]

A blart-mall-cop stupefied look cast over Njord’s expression when Rosalyn chuckled at his gaffe. Fuuuckkkkkk, the man thought internally, realizing his blunder, and followed up with his own sheepish laugh. He was lucky that Rusalka’s leader had a good sense of humor… at least for today.

He followed her away from the borders towards Dragoncrest’s rise, its namesake cliffs in the distance. The ever-present sound of crashing waves was like white noise in the background. It truly was a grand expanse. Rosalyn queried his intentions, but Njord replied with a boyish shrug of his shoulders, alluding to his capacious path in life.

“This summer, I left my home island and swam across the sea. Landed on a beach south of the Moors. Most my family is the… stoically harsh and unforgiving type,” he smiled, thinking of Aegir’s predatory glare. What a bully. “I think I overstayed my welcome. Didn’t follow their rules.” He frowned, thinking of the few redeeming qualities of his pack, missing his parents a bit. “I was headed towards a great glacier in the North my Aunt told my about… a family place. But it turned out mainland prey is hard to catch by yourself.” Njord had turned to scavenging, but it scarcely supported the male’s two year old frame. “Before I knew it, winter was a-knockin’ and I hadn’t made much progress. That’s when I met Erzulie. She was nice and said Rusalka needed hunters. Seemed like a good opportunity. Didn’t have anything holding me back and I wanted to get as far away from Meares island as possible. I'm happy I found your lot. You all seem like good people," he added, wanting Rosalyn to know that even though he had happened upon Rusalka by chance, that he was happy to be here.
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He was fairly cheerful for one who spoke of a harsh and unforgiving home, and Rosalyn took that to mean he had few regrets leaving them behind.  The only break from his smile she saw was when he spoke of rules, and she wondered if she shouldn't pry.  If he was cast out, likely there was a reason, but the cliffs had few rules to break.  Two rules in Rosalyn's mind - respect her wife, protect their family.

I'm glad that you found us, we do need hunters.  But it is also good to have new faces and a proper crew again.  She finally put the border from her mind and instead turned her head to look at the cliffs a moment, then to him once more as they walked.  Our family has been most of Rusalka for a long while, but it has been a while since it has grown.  Are you still intending to seek your glacier, come spring?

Despite seeming like good people, she wasn't sure if he had enough so far to change his plans outside of winter's hardship.

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Even though Rosalyn said few words, Njord could understand more deeply what Rusalka was like: small, family, secretive, safe. Sounded a little boring, actually… but boring was good right? It would mean a fine place to chart his own path in life and contribute to something meaningful, even if he did carry on towards the Glacier after. As long as they didn’t try and control his every move or make him show submission at every turn, then he’d be fine.

I’ll have to get waayyy better at hunting, he idly thought to himself. They were banking that he could provide come winter. Then, she asked about him staying indefinitely. “Hmmm… that was the original plan. I guess we’ll see,” he replied, ruminating in earnest. He could never give up his dream of finding the Sveijarn’s glacier, but who knows how bonded he would become to Rusalka's people. “Is that enough of an answer for you?” he asked genuinely. He felt he needed to reassure Rosalyn he wasn’t some freeloader. “Regardless, I have pledged myself to you ‘an Erzulie. While I am here, I am yours. Rusalka’s.”

He stopped, watching a seabird float on the wind. They had put some distance between themselves and their starting point. He was still curious what was bothering the alpha, so. “What were you looking for back there? At the border?” he asked.
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Rosalyn gave an offhand shrug as response.  Aye.  I've known captains to ask for lifetime loyalty, but it seems all that breeds is a crew who resents being there.  As long as you're honest, that's enough for me.  If he got tired of their home and sought his own, all she wanted from him was word of it.  He seemed earnest enough.

The border.  Rosalyn's look soured a bit, though it was clear he wasn't the target.  There's a pack nearby that has taken issue with our being here. Apparently one of them has been marking the lands between.  Again that temptation to start something, held back by a sincere disinterest in finishing any conflict that would follow.  As soon as packs were involved suddenly consequences got heavier and messier. 

They say it's war if we don't move, but if it's a bluff, I intend to call them on it.  Rosalyn added, eying him to see what he might think of this.  She didn't intend to hide this from any of Rusalka, not now that both leaders had confirmed their intentions.  She valued their insight even if her course was pretty well set.

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Rosalyn accepted his terms and Njord nodded in agreement, thankful that his captains understood to govern their wolves like individuals rather than disposable soldiers. Njord wasn’t many things… but he was genuine, and meant what he said.

His leader’s expression pinched at the mention of their neighbors. It sounded like more than a simple border dispute. Rosalyn uttered the word war and it made Njord’s slate colored hair stand up on end. For a moment, he could feel the adrenaline and testosterone run through his veins. He wasn’t a battle-born ironside, but the thought of proving himself and protecting his new family was enough to get his elaborate imagination churning. He did not know the subtleties of Sagtannet’s and Rusalka’s history with Dragoncrest Cliffs, but he left Meares Island to rid himself of his (in Njord's opinion) oppressive clan. Like Erzulie and Rosalyn, he had enough of bullies.

“War?” he said with a click of his teeth and a tch sound, “I’d like to see them try. Winter is on our doorstep. I'd make them regret even thinking of attacking Rusalka!” Njord exclaimed. He lacked the nuance of a more experienced wolf, but had plenty of vim. Besides, it was the leaders who dealt with diplomacy… Njord would act as Rusalka’s fangs.

“That reminds me,” he said, fur laying flat. “On our way up the coast I met a wolf in the Sound, a man about my age. He called himself Kigip…Piggy… @Kigipigak ,” he explained, tripping on the name. “He said he and a few others were making a new pack to the South of us: a brother and a sister from the North. He said it was ‘where the ravens gather.’ Do you know any place like that? He made it sound nearby.” Njord looked to Rosalyn. If they had trouble with one neighbor, would they have trouble with another?
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A willing soldier.  Rosalyn wanted to be grateful, but all she felt in the face of his vibrance was tired.  I'm no sea-witch.  Caiaphas would no doubt have been salivating over the prospect of a recruit eager to die at her word but Rosalyn had never had such fangs.  She'd desired power, sure... but only to ensure she never needed to fight for survival again.  Funny how life had a way of twisting even your purest hopes.

Hopefully it won't be necessary.  They'd be idiots to test the cliffs with winter close.  Casualties would come and no pack with half a brain would wish to limp through winter wounded.  Especially not a northern winter.

Ah, and a familiar mention.  Raven-boy.  I met him as well.  So he'd remained lost?  I sent him south.  There are some mountains there, though I have no clue what he means by 'ravens gathering'.  Birds are hardly a reliable landmark.  Flighty creatures.  The nearest mountain to us is the one our dear neighbors inhabit.  Otherwise the rest are a fair distance away.  She glanced southward.  From the cliffs you could just make out the distant silhouette, but from here, too many trees lay between.  Did he go on about names to you also?

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Njord listened closely to Rosalyn for any signs of distrust towards the raven wolves, but she didn’t seemed too concerned. The territory’s name was vague, at best, and the captain didn’t seem to know any close land that fit its description. The islander’s knit brows relaxed, “Hah, no. No t’sure what you mean, but he didn’t take ‘bout names to me. Only said he was from a seaside pack far North from here. Unna-something.”

The wolves of the Watch seemed to be no threat, and so he shifted back to their original conversation. “So what do our neighbors call themselves? Who leads ‘em?” he asked, wanting to know how to identify Rusalka’s “enemies.”
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Apparently he'd only been so chatty about his heritage with her.  She didn't dwell on why that might be and instead allowed him to draw her back to conversation about Sagtannet.  Some might try to make light of it but Rosalyn would prefer they all know the situation fully.

A woman and a man, neither with a name I know.  The woman has been marking our borders.  She indicated behind, the region she'd been, expression hard.  I was contemplating intercepting her, but I wonder if that isn't her aim.  It may be better to ignore it.  Ignore her and the claim.  They went where they wished, and Rosalyn had no aim to abide by her arbitrary boundary.

They go by Sagtannet and dwell on the peaks there.  Do you know anything of them?  It was a long shot, but Rosalyn had never dealt with this pack.  She had no clue of their numbers and their reach and she did not wish to get close enough to find out. She would abide by her promise, no matter how tempting it may be to do otherwise.

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“’At’s bold of ‘em,” Njord commented with a sour expression. Marking Rusalka’s borders was like throwing down the gauntlet, and it impressed the islander that Rosalyn decided to take the high road. Doing so invalidated their claim and revealed their empty threats. “Sagtannet, eh? Can’t say I know anything about them. Unless… you want me to find out?” he asked with a rise of his dotted brow. Nothing a little espionage couldn’t handle. Njord wasn’t the sneakiest of wolves, but he could role-play a good ignoramous to discover some information.
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No.  She didn't have to even think about it because she'd already considered it ahead and dismissed the idea entirely.  Sensing he'd want an explanation (and knowing what youth sometimes led to) she continued.  The best thing for us to do is wait.  I'm still not convinced it wasn't a bluff.  For all their promise of war, I've only seen the two of them.  So where is their army?  She flicked her tail a tad violently.  Despite her caution, she was impatient, and holding back like this made her itch.

We'd do better not to add any fuel to their claims.  If we present no threat, I have a hard time reasoning their pack will want to risk war.  She was banking on their kind being similar to her own.  If it was another Drageda, and above reason, then even scouting would not help.  She wouldn't want him caught in that instance either. 

Better to smoke them out by simply staying put.
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Rosalyn delivered a decisive answer: there would be no further infiltration into Nova Peak’s territory. Her foresight impressed the young man, who’s impression of her transfigured into a wizened and tactical leader. He should have known that the many scars upon her body would come with lessons of life. His respect grew for Rosalyn, and Njord knew there was a lot to learn from her.

“Aye, fair ‘nuff,” he acquiesced, accepting her decision and explanation. “Then tell me, what can I do for you, Rosalyn? D’ya have an assignment for me?” he asked, wanting to know how to serve the pack to become better assimilated into coastal life.
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He backed down easily, and Rosalyn added another notch in his favor.  She didn't mind an argument when the point was fair, but a desire to prove oneself driven by the warm blood of youth was another matter entirely.  Njord had an affable nature and a straightforward manner.  Sea wolf, she thought with approval.  It was easy to judge one of their own kind.

Aye, I've been keepin a close eye on the borders.  If you wouldn't mind, anytime you're able.  And I highly doubt covering that... she tipped her head in the direction of the border, her nose wrinkled... would be seen as anything but a rightful answer.  I may not go near them, but that doesn't mean I'll let them mark here.  Eventually perhaps they'd meet the woman and blood would be shed, but if it was on their borders and instigated by the other, she would feel no fault.
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Last post for me~!

Sapphique’s queen was decisive in her command – she knew what needed to be done. The islander straightened with new purpose. “Aye Aye, Cap’n! Border patrol’s my new middle name.” It would serve a few purposes: cover Sagtannet’s smell, defend the borders, and help Njord learn the territory. Besides, ramping up the new recruit with small responsibilities was a good tactic.

“I’ll be headin’ there now and leave ‘ya be. An... thanks for acceptin' 'lil ol me,” Njord added, earnestly excited for his new duty. He would wait a beat to make sure Rosalyn had no further instruction before heading to the fringes of Dragoncrest to begin covering the marks of their aggitators.
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He obeyed eagerly, setting off to do as she asked.  Rosalyn watched him go silently, then smiled.  She'd forgotten how it felt to have their loyalty as hers, she and Erzulie.  It was different than before, and it settled some part of her that had been rocked wayward this past year.  Maybe it was selfish of her, but she had never felt the attachment to wolves accepted by another that she did those brought in by her own decision.

The woman still lurked at the back of her mind, but Rosalyn turned with an easier posture than he'd found her in and set off in the opposite direction.  She'd attend to the south while he took over here.