Shadow was panting heavily as a dead caribou calf lay at her paws. Her muzzle was covered in crimson red, and the smell of the kill was heavy in the air. Thankfully the black wolf was able to make the kill just outside the borders of a pack's territory. It was a cold morning and the environment seemed unforgiving here. The air was crisp, cold, and clean. But all of this didn't bother Shadow, not one bit. She was built for this. She was born for this. The young wolf could smell she was outside the borders of claimed land. Not only that, she seemed very interested in joining. A wolf was not meant to be alone. A pack was a wolf's destiny and it increased their chances of survival. Before even taking one bite, a thought came to the dark colored female's mind. If she wanted to join, then perhaps she could use this kill as proof of her usefulness. She was a large wolf, true, but she was more of a hunter than a fighter. Hunting was locked into her very being and core. She could be a provider of prey to this pack, make it her new home. Her tongue swiped across her muzzle, tasting the blood that stuck there. A fine kill she made indeed.

There was, as they say, no rest for the wicked and though Arvid was not yet wicked - he would not rest until the seats of his High Court were filled with older canines that he could put his trust into. And if that included spending many, many hours away from home to scour Mythris for the perfect souls for Northfall, Arvid would do it.

He would ensure the very best for his father’s legacy - for the legacy of Northfall. So it was on this very cold morning that Arvid left his den and traveled down the mountain, only stopping when he caught signs of a young caribou that had been separated from its herd by some stroke of luck. He hadn’t been tailing the caribou for very long when he realized that it was leading him off the border, which was also the same direction he was planning to go anyway, but shortly after, the sounds of its demise came at the jaws of something else.

These mountains were not just the homes of wolves, and Arvid pondered the idea if another predator of sorts had slaughtered the thing. A polar? A tiger, that wasn’t Ronja? He’d heard stories of his father’s great friend, Kuhn, the tiger - and knew his friend down south, Raisa, had experience with them as well - but he’d never seen tigers this far north that wasn’t Ronja and the scents he could gather told him that the Caribou Hunter was canine, and female.

Coming through the trees, he saw her. Big, black. Tall. Taller than he was. Older, too. He approached slowly, not wanting to frighten her away, but also showing his interest in her as well. His citrus eyes lingered upon her and her caribou kill with the tilt of his head, pondering if she knew how close to the border she was.

He awaited for her to speak, sitting down with his tail coming to curl around his paws.

It seemed that Shadow's thoughts of joining the pack were answered in the form of a younger, smaller male wolf that sat down not too far away from her. He seemed curious if anything and Shadow was curious as well. It was obvious this wolf was a part of the pack whose borders she was right outside of. Shadow made the decision to speak first, turning to face the male. Her voice was respectful, yet emotionless. "Hello. I am Shadow Bjornsson, proudly known of Old Norse descent. I am interested in joining your pack. I don't know if you're the ruler of this pack or not, but I hope this kill will show good faith in my abilities as a hunter. May I ask who you are?" Shadow had always been known as a mysterious wolf, but there were two things that weren't a mystery. Her loyalty and hardworking nature. She tended to be void of emotion, but it wasn't impossible to get to know her. One simply needed to spend time with her to know her. Now though, Shadow's focus was on the pack wolf who had yet to speak his name to her. Her dark gold eyes rested on him, and just like the rest of her, her eyes were void of emotion.

At a year old (and some change,) Arvid was a tall, lean canine. Not quite muscular, not filled out as one might expect, but getting there. His shoulders were hard, were muscular were soon forming, or would become in his older years; an expression that watched Shadow that held curiosity, and much emotion, and not quite the stoic look that she held back at him.

She turned to face him, and Arvid flinched, as if expecting something more from her, despite being the one who lived here; being the one in power over a loner. He could call his entire kingdom here to eat her alive, if he so wished it. And though his father had ruled one way, and his reign had been beloved, Arvid wasn’t sure he wanted to follow his fathers paw-steps so closely. He was his own canine, after all.

His ears picked up on the accent; the same that he shared: Norse. He, very vividly recalled, the last Norse speaking outsider he’d come across; it hadn’t gone well. Another older canine of the same coloration - and Arvid pondered a moment if there had been any relation.

Shadow Bjornsson, Arvid greeted from across the border, his own Norse accent simmering though as he gave a swift nod of his head. Though any could hurt a baby caribou, it was an offering of goodwill that he could appreciate. Not many showed up at the border with an offering. Winona hadn’t.

I am Konungr, Arvid Stormborn of Northfall, Arvid said, taking a few steps towards her, pausing in his introduction to see if there was any recollection in her features. Tell me, Shadow.. is a veiði-kona all you strive to be?

If Shadow speaks Norse, she may register/understand the following:
“Konungr” means King, “Arvid” is also a Norse name and means “forest of eagles,”  and “veiði-kona” is the Norse word for huntress.

---

Ah, so it was the King of the pack she was speaking to. How magnificent, and not only was he the King, he was of Old Norse descent, the same as Shadow. She recognized his first name as soon as he spoke it. Arvid meant "forest of eagles". Shadow's own last name meant, Bjornsson, meant "son of bear". It made sense due to the fact that Shadow came from a lineage of large wolves from her father's side, from which she got her last name. When the question of only being a huntress came from the great King, Shadow wasted no time in giving him her answer. "Aye, I want nothing more than to be a hunter for the pack. My life's calling was always going after prey and feeling the wind in my fur. I wish to be a provider, and that is where my heart lies, King Arvid." Shadow may have been mysterious, appearing to be void of emotion, but she was a selfless creature. Being a hunter was in her blood. She was a wolf after all. It was simply in a wolf's nature to hunt. Shadow lived and breathed the hunt, the chase, the tracking. She was very experienced in her craft. She would put it to use to feed others, should King Arvid allow her in the pack.

So this canine only wished to provide? It seemed too easy - an older female, who wanted nothing more in life than to provide for him? For Northfall? She did not even question him, a mere yearling, when he said he was the leader? He flickered an ear, nodding his head.

She did not want to do anything more? He studied her with the nod of his head, not quite believing it — but if this is what she desired, then who was Arvid to argue? They needed strong individuals and she seemed passionate about wanting to be a hunter.

Very well, Shadow. Welcome to Northfall. Do you have any other questions that I can answer for you, Shadow?

Shadow had gotten exactly what she asked for. She now stood a new hunter for Northfall. The dark wolf was no longer a loner roaming on her own, she had responsibilities to fill. When asked if she had questions, she responded with a usual tone of no emotion. "No, my King. I have no questions to ask. I promise I will meet your expectations and make sure the pack is fed." Shadow was very sure of herself, and a new chapter of her life has now started.