Spatters of water flew from her pale coat as the female shook herself dry. Scarlett had just crossed the southern river towards the rising sun valley. Even though Scarlett could hunt in Duskfire territory it felt good to stretch her limbs into the valley below the Glacier. Normally she would walk a big around through her pack's lands. Sometimes one needed to step outside of that. Scarlett especially. She liked to meet new wolves, who were often found in the valley below. Her light frame trotted towards the open fields between Duck Lake and Otatso Wetlands. Her red eyes scanned around for any type of prey but the big game was gone and the smaller ones hidden.
Scarlett took a few sips from a stream that tickled down through the fields. It was far more pleasant to drink than that meltwater that could give you brief headaches. It felt good to be on unclaimed grounds, it felt like a mini break. With her caretaker role she was often busy with lessons or with finding topics for her lessons. By now she had given up hope to look for Néa. She probably wasn't returning. It saddened her she left without a word, maybe that could be a very bad sign. Scarlett looked up to see the sunlight being reflected by the glacier. Slowly she smiled. That was exactly what got her to join the Glacier pack. The sunlight that was reflected by the glacier. It was a metaphor for what she wanted to be; A shining light for the other wolves around her. This wasn't going to happen if she was all mopey about a teenager that did not return. Positivity, she thought.
The Glacier was at it's most captivating when it caught the fire of the setting sun and reflected it, the glacier blue of the frozen water rising into the horizon appearing as if it, in and of itself, was ablaze. Many times had that sight stolen Týrr's breath. It was a sight of comfort and home. If home truly was where the heart was then his home was, without any sliver of doubt, Duskfire Glacier. Though Týrr had yet to resound his way to a conclusion of either sway, his heart ached and yearned to nestle himself back into the Glacier's ranks once more and stay there this time. Easily, Týrr blamed most of his at the time flightiness upon his sudden and intense identity crisis as he discovered what was real and not real about his own life. A life he had though he'd known, well, better than anyone else. As it turned out: he did not know. In fact, he knew very little about his own life. The Lost Amazon Prince had nothing but wisps of memories left — nothing more than thin echoes of the world he'd been born into. He was bitter about it — resenting for it. Ragnar had stolen everything that Týrr had once loved from him: Quetzalcoatl, — his mother — Tartok — the pack Týrr had been apart of during his time in Seahawk Valley, Siku...every thing that had shaped him and made him who he had been. Now, all he remembered were names. No faces. No connections. The name Tezcacoatl might have belonged to him but he no longer deserved it. He was not worthy of the holy name of the Amazons. The serpent king...it was not a title that befit him.
Týrr, while it held meaning to Ragnar certainly, held nothing of the sort to the Rekkr. Once upon a time, when he'd believed the lies, the amnesia keeping him from knowing nothing else, his name had meant something to him. It had been shared with a God — a burden in and of itself. With the truth laid bare before him, however, that burden as the belief in the Norse deities ceased abruptly and harshly, vanished into the quick of night never to be found or felt again. He was neither Tezcacoatl or Týrr ...but he needed a name. Something to go by. Something that tied him to both for while he was neither specifically he could not deny that he was not a mixture of Amazon and Viking as the memories and lies merged to co-exist within him in a surprising force of peace ...and savageness. Some both archaic and new. It was terrifying and thrilling, quite an exhausting mixture of emotions as they warred with one another within him.
Crystalline blue gaze, accented by the streaks of silver beneath each eye, reluctantly left the view of the Glacier in the distance, despite that something else had caught his attention. The sound of loosely pack snow crunching under the weight of another, nearing him. Velveteen ears cupped forth and then pivoted outwards atop his skull, his muzzle swinging in her direction as her scent wafted his way. Týrr had not necessarily been hiding but the shadows cast by the trees in the sunlight of the day was a favored spot despite that under the direct sunlight might have proven to be warmer. She nearly blended in with the blanketing of snow, though her scent, unmistakably female and of the Glacier, combined with the shadow she cast before she bent to lap at the water source nearby, gave her away.
Curiosity was not something the Rekkr believed in stifling and so he let out a soft chuff to announce his presence to her before he began to close the distance, his steps well measured and naturally regal as his paws carried her closer.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
The ghostly white female lapped up some more of the fresh water, deciding that she was thirsty after all. The droplets fell from her muzzle when she lifted her head. Her ears listened but she could not find anything to alert her at the moment. The wind was blowing in the wrong direction, so her scent was drifting to the invisible wolf lurking in the shadows. The red eyed girl drank some more before casually looking around. She would have to wait for the pack hunt this week if she wanted bigger game. Scarlett could do with a piece of red juicy meat. But first she would take the be best meat, after Malachi was finished, and bring it to Adlartok. She cared for the youngster after all and with the wound on his back she didn't want him to have more pain by needing to walk to his meal. Such a kind hearted female she was.
She blinked awake from her thoughts when a chuff reached her ears. Scarlett's ears popped up. Her nose immediately tried to get his scent. His smell could tell her where he was coming from but she realized she could only smell this valley and not any significance of another pack. Blood red eyes fell upon the male that came closer. Her tail was currently hanging in a neutral stance. "Oh hello," she greeted politely and bobbed her head. She had no clue that this was The Lost Amazon Prince, or a Prince in general. Raziel told her that he was a Prince too but Scarlett had decided that he was not any different from her. They had the same color blood. The small framed female tipped her head slightly, open for a friendly greeting. She would dash away if this wolf wasn't up to her friendly standards.
Týrr watched with natural caution as the ivory colored woman's ears rose as the sound of his chuff traversed through the silence between them, interrupting it. There was a small second, sempiternal though it had been as the woman turned away from the lake she'd been drinking from to face him in which the Rekkr had felt his body give way to a physical pause, a small recoil that he played off smoothly in the next milla-second by giving his front paw a quick shake, dispelling small fractals of snow as if he'd stepped in a pile that was deeper than he had originally intended it to be. In truth, it was no such thing. It had been the woman's eyes that had struck that small moment within Týrr. He wasn't afraid of them — there was little that the Rekkr did fear these days — rather they unnerved him. The crimson color they bore had a strong resemblance to blood and while Týrr was, by no means, squeamish from it, simply they were unnatural. It was not a color meant to belong in the irises of wolves. Yet, here she was. Týrr's first thought was that she was a witch — some practitioner of blood magic. If such a thing truly existed or not the Rekkr could not claim. He did not remember enough of the Amazon culture he'd been born into to know if they believed in such things, and it sounded like something that the Northmen would believe in.
Nevertheless, Týrr did not allow his attention to linger there. There was no way to figure out what she truly was, and a very likely chance that she was just a regular, mortal wolf like himself. There was no evidence to suggest otherwise, and having an unnatural eye color meant little. The woman's greeting was polite enough, accented with a small bob of her head, Týrr noticed and for a long second, Týrr was quiet, gathering his thoughts as crystalline blue eyes flashed to her once more, assessing that she was no danger to him. It had been the scent of Duskfire Glacier that had drawn him in, at any rate, which meant she, however temporarily, called the Glacier he had helped in finding as home. Idly, Týrr wondered if she even knew that without him the Glacier might have never came to be. In truth, the Rekkr was not aware of how pivotal or important his own role was but he liked to think he played one of some importance. Hello,
The Rekkr breathed in response his voice accented even still, willing enough to play at polite. Besides, it couldn't hurt to get on the good side of those that now called the Glacier home, especially if he hoped to usurp Malachi some day — providing Tuwawi did not wish for her rightful throne back. That was, if he was even allowed back in among their ranks.
I am Týrr. Týrr Nýeldur.
Though his name bore no significance except his own at the current moment it would one day, he was determined.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
Before her came a dark colored wolf. He wasn't pure black by what she could see of it. Not that it mattered if one was fully black or not. Her red eyes fell into his blue ones. A contrast of cold and warm. Is it really what they say about eyes? That they reflect one's soul by color. It could be. Scarlett did not have a spiritual mindset to figure it out. But if one could judge them by their actions and thoughts it might be true after all. The warm hearted female wagged her tail in a gentle manner. She always greeted other wolves with politeness and courtesy, or well, she tried too. Some wolves were unreasonable. This one across from her seemed polite enough.
"Well hello Týrr," her soft voice returned. "I am afraid that I am not familiar with your full name," she pointed out afterwards. She always felt uncertain if a wolf told them their full name. She never had a full name. She was just 'Scarlett' or how her family preferred to call her; 'Monster'. The albino also had not a great knowledge of family linages or family names that came from it. For now she had to do with what she did know. Scarlett was gaining more confidence. She knew a lot but not so much about that part. She had strength in other things.
"Are you just passing through on your travels or are you trying to settle here?," she wondered. Her nose had informed her that there wasn't a scent of a pack on him. She immediately felt some compassion for him. When she was alone she craved the contact of any wolf to be honest. Even being ignored wasn't as bad as being totally alone. At least that was how Scarlett thought of it.
His chocolate brown coat, earthen colored in it's design was a testament to his previously forgotten, recently somewhat remembered mother, as was the unique streaks of silver colored fur under each eye, accenting the crystalline blue irises that colored his eyes. He was her spitting image, if in a much more masculine form. It was this likeness that had initially spared him from the fate of every male in Coatl's Rise, but it was love, forbidden though it had been for the spawn, that had made Quetzalcoatl raise him from slave to prince. Her successor. She returned the greeting, even going so far as using his name in response to his introduction. The ivory woman spoke shortly after her greeting that she was not familiar with his name. This did not come as any sort of surprise to the Rekkr. He doubted anyone but Malachi and himself, truly, knew of his “full” name when, previously, he hadn't had any true last name. Not as Tezcacoatl, and not as Týrr, though he had identified himself as per the Viking tradition “Ragnarsson”. Except, he wasn't Ragnar's son, and had decided when he'd told Thistle that he wanted nothing to do with that ruinous family that he needed something that was his own. That did not belong to Ragnar and that did not belong to Quetzalcoatl. Admittedly, he'd drawn from the Norse language to create his sire name, but he did not remember enough (if any at all) Nahuatl to form a last name. Nýeldur had fit perfectly into what Týrr was trying to create: something new and thus “new flame” seemed to fit rather suitably.
No one but Malachi knows my last name,
Týrr admitted to her, peeking up at her through his long lashes, ready to let on that he was not unknown among the Glacier wolves — or at least some of them, at any rate. I intend to settle,
Settle was putting it mildly, of course, but she didn't know that and he had no intentions of letting on about his plans. For now, that was just for Manauia and himself to discuss. What do you know of the Glacier you call home? Do you know why it was founded and what for?
Týrr did, but not because he had kept it close to his heart for the Chronicler trade. He knew because he'd been apart of it all, and assumed that she didn't because he did not recognize her. That was an unfair assumption to make, of course, but it seemed that the Rekkr was getting rather good at making unfair judgments and assumptions these days as he slowly began to form into something more feral than he had known before as Viking and Amazon merged within him. The handsome Rekkr offered her a soft smile then, lips parted to speak, I only ask because I am close to earning my Chronicler trade and I know. I know everything anyone could possibly want to know about Duskfire Glacier,
Sure, some areas — namely the ones that he was absent for were a bit hazy but Týrr did not imagine that filling in the blanks would be that hard. I'm a founding member of Duskfire Glacier.
With those words spoken Týrr fell silent then, waiting.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
The pale female huffed softly. Tuwawi had caused quite some damage towards Adlartok. Scarlett wasn't very fond of the female. "I do not know what it is founded for. I do know why I choose to live there," she pointed out. "No one bothered to tell me actually," she added. The female sat down across from the male, indirectly telling him that she was willing to listen to his story. Scarlett was right under Malachi in rank she should know this. "I do know it is founded by Tuwawi and Njal. They are Maera's parents. I am Maera's caretaker," she pointed out.
Scarlett slowly nodded. "Please do tell your story. I am interested. Duskfire is a great home," she spoke. "Oh you are? Why did you leave? Now I am extra curious."
If Týrr had known Scarlett's thoughts regarding the Glacier's true Matriarch he might have went on the immediate offensive, though his posture did stiffen, eyes cutting in her direction when she stated, boldly, that she was Maera's caretaker, suggesting, or so it appeared to the Rekkr, that that Tuwawi was incapable of being the girl's mother. Tuwawi is Maera's mother. So why does she need a caretaker?
Týrr had revised what he spoke at the very last second, figuring that he would play this off as simple curiosity though it greatly irritated him. He was defensive over the Glacier's matriarch, and not just because of his crush upon the ember. He had always admired her, even before he had agreed to join her and her family in making something new for their children. Týrr had a hard time imagining how well Tuwawi would take this woman running around claiming to be Maera's caretaker. If Maera had been his daughter, Týrr could not help but think he would kill the man who claimed that he was Maera's caretaker, a “father figure” when she already had a father. Then again, he was not like any other, just as any other was not like him. Everyone was different. Perhaps this did not bother Tuwawi; but regardless it bothered him.
Still, the Rekkr convinced himself to let it go. He was of no relation to Maera and it was not his business to stick his nose into. I know who Tuwawi and Njal are,
The Rekkr assured her. In fact, he guaranteed that he knew the pair better than Scarlett herself. I have known them from before the Glacier was founded,
And thus didn't need anyone to tell him anything about either Sveijarn. The Glacier was founded for their four children: Maera, Jökull, Valtýr, and Lárus, so that they might prosper and grow without the competition of other children. The Sveijarn's parting from Swiftcurrent Creek was an amiable one, though.
Týrr spoke, pausing to lick his lips once. I was recruited a while before they left the Creek, and mostly stayed within the Glacier as a warden as they made the final preparations to move their young family. Malachi and I met the Sveijarns and their followers from the Creek half way to the Glacier and together, we went to the Glacier to claim it officially as ours,
Fondly, Týrr remembered Jokull leaning against his back leg before she had joined her parents, Maera trailing after her, following in her elder sister's footsteps.
Personal issues had arisen that called me away from it. Things I needed to take care of.
The Rekkr spoke simply and vaguely on the matter. He did not wish to delve into his personal issues, that very much still existed, with this stranger. Her curiosity would have to go hungry. Largely, it had been his sudden identity crisis that had yanked him away from the Glacier, though none but Manauia were privy to that information. Still, he suffered from it as he yearned to remember what he had lost, but at least now he was able to focus and straighten out his priorities.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
The albino bobbed her head as she listened. That brought on some very interesting information. It could be one of the reasons why Tuwawi attacked Adlartok. He was a child after all, if the red queen founded these grounds for her offspring well then Scarlett might understand why the red collared female wouldn't permit other youngsters. But that was before she disappeared. This male spoke of 4 youngsters yet only Maera remained. That wasn't very fair to not allow other teenagers. Maera needed company too! At least to Scarlett's reasoning. A frown settled on her face, not really knowing what to say in return.
"Interesting story," she finally returned after a short pause. "Well I guess Malachi would be happy to see you. An old friend of the pack. One of the founders. Very impressive I must admit. Without you I wouldn't have this lovely home. I guess a thank you in in order?" The female kept her mouth shut about the fact that she would not agree to have Tuwawi back on the throne. For her Malachi was her alpha. Scarlett only knew the crazy Tuwawi, while Malachi and this male Týrr knew the old her. It was probably why Malachi had reacted with pure shock when the information reached his ears. Scarlett suddenly felt so much wiser.
The woman must have been rather perceptive, or perhaps she had taken the slight tensing of his shoulders for what his was: offense. The muscles were taunt beneath his coat of chocolate, particularly tight in the junction between his shoulders. He couldn't help it. He would defend the Sveijarns until his dying breath; particularly Tuwawi. Njal had the Rekkr's respect and they were of some kinship as Northmen but it was Tuwawi that he had spoken the most too, it was Tuwawi that had recruited him into their fold and it would remain Tuwawi that his loyalties truly lay with. For Maera to so willingly replace her mother confused Týrr among caused another swell of irritation to rise within him. Tuwawi had done so much for her children, and to replace her as if it were easy with this ivory woman before him upset him, deeply. Likely, this stemmed from the fact that his memories of his own mother had been unfairly stolen from him, the amnesia had erased and eaten all that he had ever loved, a side effect of the intentional injury he had suffered at the paws of Ragnar and Floki. He would give anything to be able to remember Quetzalcoatl, to remember more than her name and it seemed, the way this ivory female told him: Maera was willing to replace Tuwawi. Perhaps, the Rekkr allowed, that was not the case but he didn't know and had nothing but this female's word and his own assumptions on that matter to go off of.
Tuwawi has never and will never stop being her mother,
Týrr breathed, willing to refute this woman's flawed way of thinking. The only way she ever could would be if she lost her memories and didn't remember Maera, I should know,
His situation differed only a small bit from his example: his mother remembered him but he did not remember her and thus could no longer call himself her son. He wasn't her son — had stopped being Quetzalcoatl's crowned prince the moment he had suffered the head injury and forgot everything. Yet, the Rekkr had no intentions of fighting with this woman about it. After all, they were likely soon to be pack mates, but that did not stop his disapproval nevertheless.
Týrr was silent as Scarlett spoke, offering him a thank you for founding the pack. She wasn't wrong, he supposed, but he was irritated and knew that in the end he really needed to speak with Tuwawi herself and be done with it. The Rekkr's weight shifted and he cleared his throat once. Well now you know some about the Glacier,
How Malachi allowed these wolves to call it their home without knowing hardly anything about it was beyond Týrr but there was nothing to be done about it. As much as I hate to cut this short I must be going,
It was something of a small struggle to remain polite, even though he was annoyed; however he managed it. With a small dip of his head in her direction the Rekkr turned and headed back the way he'd came, contemplating his next moves and sorting through what he had just discussed.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
Scarlett slowly let her face fall into a frown. "I never said she wasn't Maera's mother. Far from. I am her friend and teacher. Her true mother will always be Tuwawi. I don't see myself as Maera's mother mainly because she never asked me to. I did not want to offend you in any way," the red eyed female returned. Now she felt a bit offended that the male would assume she would talk bad about founder of the glacier. Surely her thoughts weren't very positive about the red queen but there was no doubt that Tuwawi was Maera's mother nor did Scarlett ever see herself as Maera's mother.
The white female got to her feet and stepped back. She wasn't sure what to think of this male and if he was as nice as she thought he was. Scarlett swallowed thickly at the chocolate male's last words. Yeah sure he hated to stop this conversation... Scarlett felt like she said the wrong thing and greatly offended the male. She had offended him so much that he was stopping the conversation they had. Well that was never her intention. The female was almost feeling bad about herself now. Correction, she was feeling bad. "Well then, maybe our paths cross again.. Bye!," she spoke in return and quickly trotted away from the male.