Vivarium
PRP orð - Printable Version

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orð - Wardruna - 11/27/2025

Wardruna moved quietly along the foothills of Northfall, where the evergreens, dotted throughout the land became cluttered into a proper forest in the south of their home. Wardruna could smell the salt in the air coming from the western coast and it carried along with it the scent of Sreda too.

Wardruna did not know yet where the woman had decided to make her den, if anywhere yet, so instead had taken to sniffing out her scent and following the trail of the spirit walker.

Sreda? The viking woman called out when she saw movements in the brush ahead, causing fresh snow to fall from the branches.

RE: orð - Sreda - 12/11/2025

Skill:
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It had taken ... adjusting.

The cold was harsher here — more potent and feral. The arctic chill would set much deeper in her bones, settling into the marrow in ways that Sreda hadn't yet known possible. The Highlands had been more forgiving and gentle, and it had been in many ways easier to practice her ... medicine.

It was not that Sreda did not enjoy the challenge. No, in fact, she perhaps thrived on the newness of it all.

And she enjoyed the company, too.

But she'd yet to say that out loud.

The evening would drift away, leaving way for the yawn of the rising sun. The air was crisp, welcoming to the warming rays that would touch the frozen surface of the mountains. Sreda had found herself searching, her body frigid but her spirit very much warm. And it warmed perhaps, only the slightest bit more when she heard her name echoed into the breeze — "Sreda?"

Tufted ears would flick, a sharp purple gaze turning toward the familiar shape of the Blood Breather. There was no smile, but perhaps the warmth of her greeting could be read in the silent way her eyes roved over that muscular frame. Wardruna. Her tongue would roll over her lips, a glimmer of curiosity shining behind the amethyst labyrinth of Sreda's gaze. For a few moments, a silence enveloped them. A silence that perhaps, to many others, would feel uncomfortable.

But Sreda nearly collapsed into it.

And in her eyes, she asked, what is it?


RE: orð - Wardruna - 12/11/2025

The Sentry - no, Queen, would see golden tuff of ears flicker back, attention captured by Wardruna. She turns and Wardruna is met with the deep purple eyes which she held. Memories of Sheauga haunt her, but that of Harper too. How long would this last? Forever, perhaps. Yet Wardruna would need to remind herself- Sreda had come first before both and still now remained.

I hope your getting used to the cold? Sreda was not ignorant to life within the mountains, this the viking knew. Wardruna didnt feel she needed to worry Sreda would go tumbling from the mountains any time soon... but with so much ice and snow? Even an expert would know to err on the side of caution.

It will only get worse. A once flat expression to match Sreda's own was then faltered with a crinkle of Wardruna's muzzle as she grinned. I admit... She starts up as she begins to take a few lazy steps closer into the other woman's direction. My reasons for seeking you are actually entirely selfish... How to go about this odd request?

RE: orð - Sreda - 12/14/2025

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Sreda's gaze lingered upon Wardruna, expression a familiar shade of stern and unreadable. There was an intensity behind those amethyst lenses, one that Wardruna was likely accustomed to by now. Sreda knew she did not necessarily 'fit in' among the likes of Vikings — Blood Breathers. She was not large in stature, nor white and gold of pelt. But she was nothing short of similar to them in other ways. Loyalty (to herself, mostly, but that was still loyalty), logic, and violence.

"I hope you're getting used to the cold? It will only get worse."

Sreda's lips stiffened in a half-smile. It takes quite a bit more than weather to freeze me out, she'd reply evenly, flicking her ears toward Wardruna with curiosity. Surely ... the Queen had not sought out her company to talk of the weather? Sreda watched the way that Wardruna's lips pulled into a smile, wrinkling at the edges of her muzzle before continuing.

"I admit ..." The Viking woman slid closer, a hint of warmth invisibly touching the edges of Sreda's cheeks. "My reasons for seeking you are actually entirely selfish..." Sreda, too, would take a few steps forward, closing the gap between her and her companion. But unlike Wardruna's more gliding motions, Sreda's steps were rigid and calculated.

The woman would let her lips lift into a half smile as she raised a brow. Go on. An invitation before she added, I can assure that my response will be just as selfish in return. Perhaps that would be reassuring. Honesty would be met with honesty.

Fair was fair, after all.


RE: orð - Wardruna - 12/15/2025

There was always an air of power in Sreda, revealed through the depths of a hard, calculating gaze. A confidence which need not backed up with teeth or words, but simply a look. Wardruna had seen such unspoken authority in her mother, in her sister Sylvi and even little Eli and wondered if it was ever something she too would hold in others one day. Sreda mighy have seen it in Wardruna, though she was alone in her thoughts. Yet Wardruna could no longer afford to allow her lack of confidence be shown, lest it be of those in her close council (like Sreda here) now that she was Queen.

Now that she was face to face with Sreda, she would suddenly come to a sit before her, her thick tail moving to lay over her paws. I would like for you to tell me again what you know of the coming of your younger siblings... Where was it that your parents found that tree? How did it give them pups? Do you know how this came about? A flood of questions then. Questions which she did not know if Sreda would have the answers to. It was magic, after all, which in most cases did not have any such logical explanation. Most importantly to Wardruna, would be if Sreda had any idea of how she might find it herself.