Sleeping Dragon Syn

Jörmungandr stopped beside a large boulder. The mountain loomed over his head. One eye traced the rocky peaks with mild fascination. It was a strong looking thing, the mountain. Once, Jörmungandr could have seen the homes of wolves upon its rocky slopes. High above cawed a predatory bird. It swooped to cast a shadow over the dark wolf’s head before disappearing on the other side of the rocky face.

Jörmungandr had lost the scent of any Svartravn wolves several miles back. Unconcerned by it, the dark man had found intrigue in the stray scent of Kvitravn. That scent had been lost some ways back, as well. The shade of the mountain had been the only thing to draw him to its base. It was there that he debated resting from the sunlight. Seated in the shade of the mountain itself.

Small, petite dainty she had been called all these things. Sometimes worse things, witch, sickly, unwell. But she was a hearty beast, despite her size. She was ten times her size on the inside, and a heart as big as the mountains, but she was also Svartravn, a healer. She was born from noble beasts. And she was kissed by the gods favor, for they hadn't let her die.

Maiken had followed her kin, and then the others, the blood traitors as her father would like to call, but she was a neutral wolf or by the great god Svart she tried to be. Two colors dark and light, where could the darkness be without the light. She felt there was more to the story, not hand-me-down tales of traitorous deeds. She smelled a familiar scent, one that she had followed, but didn't know.

She stopped to look around, eyes tracing the shadowed mountain eaves.

Before settling upon his belly, Jörmungandr offered a quiet prayer to Svart. The man’s eye shifted from the skies to the earth beneath his paws. He was quiet and reverent for a long while before he rested his chin upon his feet and watched the natural world move around him. The shade of the great stone was cast upon his back. The light of the sun was diminished by it. The heat still lingered in the air.

A mountain gopher appeared from a hole in the ground. It scurried up the length of a fallen log and perched at the end of it with twitching whiskers. Jörmungandr eyed the creature with an impassive expression. The little rodent gripped something in its hands and brought it to its lips. It munched before spinning sharply and staring into the shade, not where Jörmungandr rested, but beyond that.

The dark wolf lifted his head and turned to search the same area. His ears were drawn to a point.

I AM SO BLESSED! Goodness, it makes me giddy to write with you so many times. >w<

oh Goodness. Why Thank you. <3 I am glad you like to write with me. 

Prickles of unease skittered along her back. Mai shifted and lifted her head. She was too small to see too far, her head didn't quite reach the whole way to where she was looking. She saw a small gopher, but beyond that she could see nothing.

She took a few steps forward, her ears high alert, her brown eyes on the steepening shadows. It wasn't quite night yet, but it was drawing nearer, soon the entire world would be kissed in shadows like she was.

She didn't have time to fully admire everything, her body on high alert, anxious and afraid that something meant her harm. And curse her tiny frame that she could not see beyond a certain point.

Oh absolutely! You’ve got some awesome characters. ^^

There crept a small figure, dark and masked by the moving shadows. It seemed that the gopher had pulled her gaze toward it. Jörmungandr watched from his place of rest. His one eye followed the paws of the girl and the way she prowled across the land. There was a hint of wariness and caution in her gait. The dark man did not know why this was. As he moved his snout to follow the path she might naturally take, the gopher caught his movement and bolted from the log where it had perched. Jörmungandr snapped his attention back to where it had been. His ears turned to face forward.

The dark huntress might have lost her meal. Such was the way of things. Jörmungandr did not believe that it was a sign of misfortune. Prey was sharp and quick. The hunter must be sharper and swifter. Then again, he had not even been certain that she had intended to land the gopher. The dark man’s single eye shifted back to where the shadow had prowled. He waited for her to take notice.

Thank you, you also have such amazing characters and so in depth. <3 

Maiken was not hunting, she was not hungry. No she was wary that something else was here. She did not know these woods, or these wolves. She would be a fool, not to be wary. Despite that she was a healer, peaceful, it didn't mean that someone else wouldn't harm her just because they could.

Finally, she caught sight of a dark furred wolf above her. And she froze and studied him. He looked to be like her Svartravn, but was he, really. She chuffed and moved closer, wary.

Hello Their language rolled across her tongue like warmth. If he was of the same as she.

Oh gosh, that’s a real compliment. >w< Thank you very much. <3

The girl greeted him in the tongue of a shared people. Svartravn, he thought without stirring from his place in the shadows. He had not been wrong to follow their scents into the new lands. Jörmungandr had believed their trail ended miles back toward the grass field, but there stood a black-wing worshiper right before his eyes. It must have been a good omen. Svart was with them.

Blessings be to you.

The man’s voice was rough like gravel. It thrummed deep in his throat. It was a warrior’s voice and it suited him well. Jörmungandr lifted his snout to regard her closely. She smelled of the wilderness and of other wolves, though those fragrances were faint. He wondered what her purpose was, but he did not ask it.

Dark shrouded with dark, the only thing that peered at her was an eye in the deepest shade of red.

Very Welcome. <3

Maiken did not know this wolf. He was clearly of the same people, but of what branch she wasn't certain. So many had branched out and moved on, bringing in new blood to the fold, making their own familial lines. He could have belong to anyone, though she was certain he did not belong to her family's line. She would have recognized him and no one in her family had red eyes. She shivered, she only ever saw red eyes on those that carried the gene that turned everything pale, strange, sickly looking animals. Though beautiful in their own right, just not normal.

His greeting surprised her, but she dipped her muzzle down. And to you.

She wasn't certain what else to say, but clearly he meant her no harm, so she moved closer still. Until she was standing near him. Her eyes went a little large in her head. She was used to larger wolves, after all she was a tiny thing, but this wolf, he was a giant, even bigger than her father and brothers and that didn't sit with the petite femme well.

He was a warrior it was clear by the one eye that stared out of his face, and the scars that riddled his hide. His voice was deep, and rough, like two stones rubbing together, or sticks clack clacking on the stones. It wasn't displeasing, just different.

She lifted her head, proudly and spoke softly. I am Maiken Svartrvn, healer. Well met kinsman.

The dark figure approached, returning a greeting to the one-eyed man. Jörmungandr watched her with an impassive expression. It was clear that she was of the Svart-worshiping wolves. She had likely traveled with her kinsmen to the new lands. He wondered if she would help to spread the faith. They were not typically missionaries, but new lands would mean new opportunities to share the blessings of their dark-winged god.

Maiken, he repeated her name with a small nod. I am called Jörmungandr Svartravn. For they had not met before this moment. The one-eyed man wondered how many expansions of their clan had been created since the dawning of their people. He wondered, too, what the new land would look like when it had been claimed by the believers of Svart. It would thrive beneath the blessing of the dark-feathered one.

Jörmungandr was not much for a conversationalist. His single eye shifted from her face to her figure without wavering.

You are far from the homeland.

Maiken had not traveled with anyone, but herself. She had parted ways with her family weeks before. Tired of the constant abuse of her father, the constant yammering that she should have died. Never the less that she had learned to heal, to be useful, but she could also kill just as easily with the trade she knew. Though, she would never admit this to anyone. This was a secret she kept hidden, deep in her breast. A small ember of a rebellious knowledge.

She would continue to respect her God, Svart, but she was not one that would openly worship or turn people to their cause. From where she stood, such things had caused unrest too long. Two families divided by the differing colors.

Jormungandr. Strong name. Her father and brothers would like this one, he was what a child of Svartravn should be, not tiny, helpless Maiken. Dainty, petite runt.

Maiken's skin pricked under his gaze, though she saw no threat, just general observation. She could not help it though. As are you. But I wanted to ply my trade away from what I have always known, learn more in these lands.

Hm.

The hum of his rough voice on his throat was anything but thoughtful. Nevertheless, Jörmungandr nodded his head. He knew very little in the way of healers and their magic. It was clear that many of them had been blessed. Their knowledge was vast, and their skills were invaluable to any group that they found themselves apart of. The dark man had no fondness for plant life, or for the beneficial properties that they offered to the hunting beasts.

And you have learned much? A single dark ear flicked back upon his head.

Jörmungandr wondered how far she had traveled to reach the new lands. He wondered, too, why there were so many of the Ravn clans. Had the winged gods spoken and issued a command to journey and spread their word? Surely Svart would need little mortal assistance – the black bird had found followers with only the power of his name. Even Kvit did not compare, he believed firmly.

Small black ears tweaked forward, nose forward as she listened. She didn't think he was thinking, just listening. And that was fine. Not everyone understood what she was, what she loved. Not everyone liked plants and healing and helping. More wanted to hurt and maim and be cruel. Maiken just wasn't built that way.

Maiken's tail wagged, and a smile lit up her muzzle and eyes. Oh yes. I have learned so much and there's so much more to learn. I have been blessed by Svart in that regard. She lifted one dainty paw and set it back down, her excitement making her want to move.

She was not issued a command to arrive here. She just wanted a change of pace. There's a mass Exodus, of our kinsman. I thought I was on my own, but clearly I was wrong.

The woman spoke warmly of what she had learned. Jörmungandr continued to listen. He did not share the same sentiments, but he understood that healer folk were different from the typical warriors of their homeland. The dark wolf had been content to live a simple life. He believed in Svart, he sought to continue their traditions, and he was a powerful ally and foe to many wolves. This was a life that he had fashioned for himself. He did not see a need to change it.

The exodus of their people was only mildly concerning. Jörmungandr believed that spreading the word of Svart was beneficial. They were bound to find others who would listen to their god. It was not his own reason for traveling to the new lands, but one that compelled him to remain there for a time.

What are your plans here? To continue the practices of Svart, I hope.

Jörmungandr’s single eye blinked at her.

Maiken realized with a soft sigh, that she was over talking. She continued the last of her thoughts and then grew quiet, and perked her ears forward to listen if he had anything to say. She had no problems sharing her god with others, but she wasn't certain if it would be so wide spread here. They may have their own.

Maiken wasn't certain why so many of their people had left, but she thought perhaps it was that they were trying to spread the word. Or perhaps, just perhaps they grew tired of fighting. She was sure there were more like her that preferred peace to fighting, though would she be needed were she not around fighting.

I plan to expand my knowledge of herblore, and yes I will share my practices of Svart. Is that your plan to continue the practices? Or are you here to collect some of our brethren?

It did not seem as though she had strayed. Her answer was that she planned to expand her knowledge of the herbs in that new world and spread the word of Svart. It was a reasonable thing. 

She asked then if Jörmungandr was there to continue their practices or to return their kinsman to the homeland. The one-eyed wolf shrugged slightly. In truth, he was not certain what his purpose was there. He could find wolves who had abandoned their faith. He could share their faith with those in the new world. Svart would be pleased with either path. 

A bit of both. 

She needn’t worry, if she still respected their traditions.

Fade for me I'm around if you'd like another. <3 :)

Maiken smiled easily at the wolf. Though he seemed quite the undemonstrative type. She had come to a logical conclusion of their conversation and it was time now to head on out.

She nodded in agreement to his words. And ghosted forwards just a little further to look up at him. Well if you have need of me or my knowledge of herbs, please come find me. Otherwise I shall bid you goodbye.

She weaved her tail and bowed her head, she would pause for a moment and if he said nothing else, she would be on her way. Hoping that he would seek her out if he needed a listening ear, friend, or herb in the days to come.

I would love another, actually. <3 I'll work on whipping one up a little closer to the Saints location.

Jörmungandr nodded once to the woman.

Perhaps if there was a settlement, a branch of Svartravn clan, he would call upon her for her healing abilities. The dark wolf did not know what the future would hold. There were a great many miles to discover. He did not imagine that he would settle until the white winds blew snow across the land. It would be moons before the ice came.

Jörmungandr watched the healer leave and then rose to his feet to continue carving a path for himself. He did not stop until the sun had fallen and the skies were blanketed black.