i've got this restless ache at the center of me

Thuringwethil was a light sleeper. It was trained from an early age—as were most things, from what she could remember—and her stomach churned with hunger. She was young still and couldn’t go as long as her adult counterparts. Even hunting on her own was a little difficult, but not impossible. She did have @Hrimfaxi to back her up and give her a hand but between the two of them it would be difficult to feed one another. Thuringwethil couldn’t deny their disadvantages given their age and it didn’t help there might be a pack of wolves on their heels ready to wipe them out.

 This morning, Thuringwethil decided it might be best for them to split up. If they could find something small to tide them over, they might can go for something bigger. Or maybe they could find one of their own (or hell, even another adult to give them a hand) but right now they only had each other until they could make it home. The pasture was quiet early in the morning, the fog clung low to the ground. Thuringwethil couldn’t see too far ahead of her even as the day warmed up and the sun began to creep into the sky.

 For now, Thuringwethil sniffed the air carefully and used silent steps to get through the flatlands until something caught her attention.
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When she awoke in the early predawn hours, she tossed, turned, and tried to settle back down to sleep longer to no avail. It was not for lack of trying, but energy was eventually better spent elsewhere, so she decided to get up and go for the day. A hint of hunger, maybe, could be her best excuse if she really tried. That, and still adjusting (or re-adjusting?) to everything that living in unfamiliar lands entailed. It seemed wise to get better acquainted with the area, at least. Food could only be an added bonus, really, so she went out to the pastures to roam.

Sometimes she simply did not want to go back to sleep for fear that this was going to be a dream--that she would wake up alone, with fewer scars she could not explain, but with an endless ache in her heart she didn't fathom the ends to instead. But, no. So far, and for reasons wholly unknown, she could rise each day and feel.. strangely free of all of that weight. A lot was still missing from her memories in frustrating ways, and there were times when it was like relearning to walk, but in truth, when each day rolled into the next, it felt.. better. There was an up from here, she could tell herself even faced with a hazy horizon and no solid home to call her own.. a thought urging her sights upward, though answering quickly with a huff.

Today didn't particularly look the part, but early still, it could prove itself otherwise.

Which all would be better if she got going in earnest. so she dedicated further to the cause and prowled on, nose lowered now and focusing. It was not a place she knew well enough yet, so proceeded carefully enough despite no real trail underfoot until she intersected with something hinting at a wolf's scent. Lured readily by this new piece, she felt more awake than she had so far today. Slowly motivating, and getting properly keen, she tracked on for more a bit quicker than before.

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The scent Thuringwethil picked up in the pasture gave her pause. She didn’t recognize it but her mind told her otherwise. There wasn’t a face she could place it but there was too much conviction in feeling. Scents lingered around the pack lands she’d been in but she felt confident she would be able to discern the scent in passing. There was a significant difference in knowing the scent without a memory attention to it. Her heart thumped heavy in her chest and as weird as she suddenly felt, there was no way she was going to let this go. There were answers up ahead.

 The young wolf inhaled a sharp breath and held the scent in her lungs, lifting her head to peek forward. She could see the hint of a silhouette between the tall grasses and thick fog. It brought no clearer answers but the smell cut through the damp morning. Thuringwethil stepped forward as the breath escaped her lungs, releasing whatever weird feelings she couldn’t find an answer to. She’d find them soon enough.

 “Chon yu? — Who are you?” she demanded more than asked when she was close enough to make out more features through the mist.
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Perusing on, the fog dampened everything well. She alternated between a nose carried low, and preferring to test the winds. Somewhere on lifting it, she felt her nape want to prickle before the full awareness arrived. It was suspicion looking to set in at first, but in these recent, confusing times, she had little to expect--and this haze did not give her much opportunity. Opalia set her next paw down more carefully than before, letting the rest of her momentum from there step into a vague sense of preparedness, just in case, to proceed mindfully.

With an ear turned carefully, she sought to catch more, maybe a heavy footfall, or breathing, but it was the voice that broke the relative silence best. One with a distinct phrasing to it, no less. As curious as the recognition felt zinging through her new sense of conscious, she did not have time to wonder over it very long. She gave a pivot, and a few short steps to further ease off distance now that she knew she was found.

Squinting at the tall silhouette of a young wolf, Opalia weighed her options and neatly squared her paws. “Chon aska?” — Who asks? she answered first, pairing with a small flick of her muzzle and a pointed, knowing look. She wanted to toe an inflammatory line but truth be told, she was interested in equal measure when they had been drawn to cross like this. “Opalia kom Drakru,” she generously provided as further incentive for an answer back.

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The other female did not hold herself in a way a warrior might but she held herself in a way that showed training. She was brave and did not back down to a threat and Thuringwethil assumed, for all the weird that has happened lately, this woman was just another wolf that existed outside her world. Her wolves were her world and nothing else and one day she would live, or die, for them.

 However, the woman spoke in a tongue Thuringwethil was familiar. A brow lifted and she felt her lips curl just slightly. She couldn’t show off more than she was meant to but the familiarity, finally, was difficult to contain.

 Chon aska?

 Without skipping a beat: “Thuringwethil—fos goufa,” she answered, ears cupped forward to assert the exchange. “Ain bloke, @Hrimfaxi, nou longas,” — My guard, Hrimfaxi, is not far. she warned Thuringwethil knew she was young but she was a position of royalty, no matter the circumstance. She didn’t hold much power (yet) but there was greatness ready at her paws. Whatever greatness she held, though, and whatever training she bestowed over the months since her birth, did not properly prepare her for this.

 “Drakru?” Thuringwethil tried to say without scoffing. There were two other packs attached to Seageda further inland but they were all in communication with each other and neither held the Drakru name. Drageda (she deduced) was not among Trigeda and Sangeda. “Breik daun.” — Explain
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In all of her hazy memories, certain pieces still came in startlingly clear. Others slipped entirely, or rather, she found she could not focus on them. But, fos goufa certainly meant something to her without a second's hesitation, hence the new appraisal in her look--though inscrutable, hopefully, as she eyed the dark wolf, who next revealed so openly that she was not alone. Though it was indeed veiled as a warning that she would not miss, Opalia replied with a dip of a nod, one to issue understanding alongside the cogs turning in her head. She knew now not to let her guard falter an inch, lest she end up outnumbered by this supposed Hrimfaxi.

She kept close to her own chest that her brother was likely not far as well. There was no cause to reveal such so soon. Even so, the pale Drakru was not easily intimidated, and used to being underestimated.

Opalia did feel her teeth tighten and her chin tilt up accordingly, sensing the finest edge of something unsavory when she was told what to do. Her expression kept stern; it was not a name that had weight now, but one she had earned. When all else failed, that truth would always remain and she carried it with pride even still--ghosts and all. “Drageda. Gon nau,” — Drageda. Gone now she answered, keeping it short about the cliffs of her birth when she did not wish to face judgement unfounded. It was from a distant time and place, one she realized now she could not even point in the direction of any longer.

Narrowing her eyes, she had to wonder if that explanation would even begin to suffice. “Hakom yu kamp raun hir?” — Why are you here? she returned, supposing there should be cause for a fos goufa's moves.

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Drageda. Gone now.

 Thuringwethil knit her brows together as she tried to search her mind. Her teachings were far from over but she was certain if there had been a group long gone, she would have known about it. There had been no Drageda in the history. Trigeda and Sangeda were the only ones to have spurned from Seageda and Seageda had always been. The young wolf had questions but she tucked them away for a moment. Thuringwethil didn’t want to give away more about her home than necessary and if Opalia was lying, she had to know for sure.

 “Ai gon san,” — I am going to the coast she explained. “Trana fig Seageda.” — We are trying to find Seageda

 She didn’t like to admit that she was lost, nor that she knew what she was doing, but no matter her training, Thuringwethil was a child. She wouldn’t admit that either but it someone had an inkling of where that might be, of what their lives are like, Thuringwethil wasn’t going to pass it up. “Yu get in Seageda?” — You know Seageda?
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The pale Drakru could not speak confidently on the past right now, as much as she might hate it, so looking forward was easier to bear. Towards the coast felt like the obvious answer to her, too. It was the one that she adhered to vaguely enough even without thinking, though it was not as if her path had traveled far so far. She had barely begun to get her footing here. Maybe it was thinking too forwardly so far..

But, Seageda was something she did search for, looking back. Something familiar, and an important weight to it. But it was too far away for her to feel it properly any longer. She was certain she had never been. It was only in the words of others, long, long gone. “Jos sontaim,” — Just in story, she murmured with a faint shake of her head. There was nothing for her to find concerning the name, especially not now and all she could do was question.

The coast was a far more tempting topic, one she could face forward with. One she had already considered for herself because there were no other headings to follow, and no obligations elsewhere she had found time to remember. It had somehow, once again, become only Dacio and her. “Ai strat soujon kom we, gon san..” — I plan to travel that way, to the sea... the pale warrior mentioned, a gesture of her nose. “Somtaim. Kom ai bro..” — Eventually/Sometime. With my brother, she decided to grant. She had safety in another too, and a trusted source best of all, and it made the most sense to her that eventually they would carry on to elsewhere. Where that might be remained unseen.

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Even as Thuringwethil explored Opalia, there were not as many answers as she’d hoped for. There were aspects of her training that was incomplete and while she had the basic idea for a lot of things, extracting information had yet to be honed in on. And if Opalia was one of her own, one of her kru—no matter how far removed—it would be just as hard to crack. Seageda (and company) wolves were trained vigorously to protect themselves, physically and mentally.

 Similar motives made things easy. While she and Hrimfaxi were capable children, the benefit of adults—of numbers—was important. Opalia had a brother and Thuringwethil had her guard. The pack that chased her wouldn’t stand a chance against the group of them if they continued to collect wolves of their kind because where there were few, there would be many more to come.

 “Den op san,” — Then we go to the coast Thuringwethil concluded. She, Hrimfaxi, Opalia, and Opalia’s brother. “Weron yu bro?” — Where is your brother?
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Thuringwethil tidied the plan just like that--and with it, something neatly clicked into place. She didn't once feel the need to question it; it was all said and done, all in line with what she wanted to hear anyway--heading in a direction she wanted to believe would benefit. Just with a new sense of possibility, even if only a faint glimmer. Seemed to be a good fit for the coming days to her.

As for her brother, she wondered what he might think about this--and more than that, what type of bigger picture he wished to be part of now. She always preferred him being a part of her own. “Nou longas,” — Not far Opalia answered, and only glanced in the way she had seen him go last--opposite to her, and roughly west of here. Soon, she would reunite again with him. “Pas honen, ai fig au em,” — After hunting, I find him, she shared, for it was what had sent her out ranging in the first place. The best rendezvous were over a meal and already, she had plenty to tell him.

And, with a gesture onward, she suggested they move on towards this goal too. There was still much to accomplish.

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