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Hrefna, Valkyrie and Vi! dated to the 13th

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stormrift came down from the mountain in four shadows. scents reached them before the heart of the celebration did—strangers layered upon strangers, food, flowers bruised beneath paws, the bright nervousness of gathering families and the warmer thread of those who had come simply because something joyful had been promised.

behind her came her daughters; valkyrie kept to one shoulder, hrefna at the other—the daughters of stormrift beneath a foreign sky, carrying pieces of their mother between them in ways both obvious and terribly subtle. one need only watch gjalla glance back once to understand that whatever iron lived in her posture did not extend untouched toward them.

vi came among them. new blood, perhaps, but gjalla had not brought her as an afterthought; she walked beneath the same invisible shelter as the others, permitted within the small formation the northerners naturally made as they crossed unfamiliar ground.

but weddings were peculiar things. tianlong's ways were largely unknown to her—foreign enough that even rumor felt unreliable—and so she could not decide whether what she was walking toward was romance at all, or something far more practical dressed in celebration. the emperors she had known did not often concern themselves with singular devotion; she knew not the circumstances that had made this union come to pass, only that in courts such as these, love was sometimes simply another word for arrangement.

stay near until we have greeted our hosts, she murmured, though her daughters were hardly children requiring shepherding. her muzzle tilted briefly toward vi so the instruction encompassed her without distinction. afterward, you may wander as you please within reason.

Vi’s muscles were taut as they travelled. Non-stop thoughts swirled like ink staining her mind. A wedding. A royal wedding at that. It made her stomach flip on itself. That was almost her. It was once her friend. And look where that got her.

Vi’s anger still boiled and roiled underneath her skin. She had grown at least a little in the time she’s been here. She almost didn’t recognize herself, but then again, she was reborn. She shouldn’t recognize herself. She should take this chance and become who she really is, what she wants to be. And that was with Stormrift. She looked up to them, strong women who fight their own battles.

Even so she couldn’t completely let the past go. While she loathed royalty and grandeur, she was looking for someone while she was here. This would be the best chance she got at finding her. She just wasn’t quite sure if she wished to see her or not. She felt guilty for what had happened that night, and was worried Marcia would hate her for it. For not doing more.

Vi shook her head trying to get the thoughts to cease. But soon enough they drew near to the celebration and Vi’s eyes widened in surprise. Wolves, so many wolves! Millions of scents assaulted her nose all at once and it scrunched at the violation. Stay near, Gjalla had said, and that was easy for Vi to do. She wasn’t too keen on socializing. Shivers ran down her spine at the thought of being alone with a man. She pushed those thoughts deep down. She had claws now and she would be damned if she wasn’t going to use them if she needed to.