Skill: N/A

Title: Tek It

Vidarr

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Her bones ached.

Hilde's breaths left her with stuttering sighs as she tumbled down the slope, sliding over the frost-laden riverbank and halting by the ice's edge. Hours—days, maybe—had been spent on her limbs. Endlessly, she searched for the familiar face, his warm eyes...

The sentinel rose with a quiet grunt, withers jutting upwards and muscles taut with effort. Her pasterns burned, beseeched her to rest. But she refused. Her paws were planted on the cold, hard ground, claws digging downward against the strewn pebbles. Golden eyes swiftly shot across the fields ahead.

Where... was she?

The woman took tentative steps forward, hobbling with a new ache of a bruise against her shoulder, where she'd landed. Falling, seemingly, from nowhere. Her pink nose twitched, blowing vapor through the cool air.

A modicum of hope sparked in her chest that this was where he'd gone. Perhaps he hadn't left. Merely... disappeared.

Here.

Determination permeated through her mind. She would not halt now. The woman—short in height, yet broad in lean muscle—set off yet again, tail held stiffly over the snow's pristine surface.

skill:

Vidarr could not bear to go to the Winterscar now. He'd by some miracle recovered two different wolves from Winterscar, but he had not been there to help lift Genghis from the frozen depths of the lake. Vidarr did not think himself so special that by some means he would have been more capable than the brave wolves of Dawnbreak already had been. Vidarr just felt he'd failed them even further than he already did with the time that he'd taken to return home to them.

Euphemia's edict still weighed heavily on him, and until he was able to the silvery woman evidence that he'd done as she'd asked he didn't know that he could truly feel comfortable reclaiming his densite. From asking around he'd heard that Eira had a....thing with another male. Maybe by that point that he could take his den back their shadows wouldn't still be darkening his door. He had to hope that they were safe and that they were happy wherever they ended up. If he wasn't perhaps approaching it so naively himself, he might have struggled even more. He couldn't risk thinking of his own sister, lost to the frigid depths that he'd pulled her from. He couldn't.

Vidarr snorted, night blooming around him as he slowly ambled towards the edge of the river. The sounds of the tumble she took was what drew his attention and he let out a sharp bark, doubling down on his efforts to make his way down the slope, mindful of the tightness in his shoulder where it had been scarred in the wildfires. He wasn't close enough to see her clearly, his eyes mostly on his feet to make sure he didn't trip and join her going ass over tea-kettle.

Skill: N/A

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Deep golden eyes squinted against the darkness of night. Hilde continued to hobble up the ridge, her mouth thinned into a determined frown, ears pinned sharply to her head.

The wind buffeted against her body incessantly. She could feel her fur swaying against its harsh path slicing through the frigid air, sending the cold seeping through her dense ivory coat and grasping the tender skin beneath. She hissed out softly. Yet she did not relent.

A few steps higher, she halted. There was a quiet woof that penetrated the wind-swept air. Against the darkening horizon, she could see the silhouette of a broad-framed sire, just on the other end of the clearing. Meticulously stepping over the snow, lest he fall over the slope and injure himself—as she had done.

The woman felt her muscles tighten. Her gaze narrowed, she gingerly continued to step forward. On edge, concerned, apprehensive of this tall stranger.

Hilde's tail was stiff. Hej, she softly barked back, who are you? As much as she desired to inspect the man further, she would not risk escalating a situation. If this is your land, I will leave. She dipped her head. The gesture was respectful—yet the posture of her tail and the tense manner of her muscles were not subtle. She was ready for whatever this man's presence could entail.

Perhaps it was silence, or perhaps she couldn't hear over the gusts of wind. Hilde softly hummed, and in a rather brash decision, stepped a few paces closer.

Her nostrils burned as they flared against the frigid air—yet, she took deep whiffs regardless. The surrounding area did not smell like a pack. All she could smell was the empty musk of snowfall and...

...Vidarr...? No. Was she dreaming? Was it a coincidence?

The contours of this body were eerily similar in build—enormously tall, broad, strewn with pure brawn.

The borderline hostility that was contorting her face was gone, almost instantly. ...is that you? Another few steps closer. Tentative, almost afraid.

skill:

When he finally had made it to the river's edge she'd righted herself and the bit of anxiety that had clenched around his chest and heart started to relax. The idea of dragging another from the waters, even if the river was not nearly as bad as Winterscar was, made him absolutely anxious. Before, he couldn't say that he was fine - things happened, sure, but the thought of Svajone or Eira being dead and him recovering their bodies rather than helping them - like what happened with Genghis. From what he'd heard, which wasn't much because he didn't want to talk much about it to others and pry those unhappy memories up and bring them to the surface, it had been futile but they'd done what they could. It had thankfully not resulted in the loss of anyone else, but, there was of course the emotional devastation that hung around them like a thick fog.

Sorrow was cruel, and they all belonged to her for now, caged under her heavy gaze and the sharp claws she kept in each of the wolves of Dawnbreak. The woman stood with a stiff sort of posture, and Vidarr stopped a good distance away, golden eyes flashing as they swept across her. Immediately she asked who he was, and he dipped his head politely, his posture relaxed. These were no one's lands - and so she could immediately be put at ease in that regard. No, no need - these lands are not claimed. My home is Dawnbreak, in the vale over there. He gestured with his head, turning his focus for a moment back to Frostfang.

An ear flicked as he heard his own name, head whipping back around as he squinted. She'd moved closer, and so he approached as well, confusion heavy on his brow. Closer now it was easier to make out her features, and his mouth dropped open, the words he'd almost said lost on his clumsy tongue. It couldn't be - that he might be so lucky, that they might be so lucky, after he'd spent years missing and pining for what he'd lost. His breath left him in a curl of steam that plumed into the night sky. You're as beautiful as the day I lost you. He breathed out before he approached her.

He was gentle as he leaned his head down, tilting it as he nuzzled into her - cheek to cheek like it was just yesterday that he'd gone missing, not the many seasons they'd been apart. Elsku kappinn minn, hvað ég hef saknað þín. (Darling warrior of mine, how I have missed you.)

Skill: Heartbroken [1/5]

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Frozen.

Like the landscape that surrounded them—Hilde was rendered motionless, speechless—expression on her face an amalgam of sheer shock and something else, entirely unreadable.

'You're as beautiful as the day I lost you.' His warmth enveloped her body. Heat gathered on her visage as if she were a smitten schoolgirl. 'Elsku kappinn minn, hvað ég hef saknað þín.' Trembling, her body gravitated towards him, her face pressing to his cheek.

Where... she paused, pulling back to look into his eyes. Where have you been?! Her ears pinned back. Years of sheer emptiness, the terror she'd felt that perhaps, she'd never see him again—all was ousted all at once, as though it was never there to begin with. Yet, the modicum of betrayal elicited by the notion that he'd left... It was difficult to shed.

I looked everywhere. I... no trace, no note... She turned her head, a futile attempt to hide from him, the tears that brimmed in her golden eyes. Nothing. Nothing... She wanted to be angry. She wanted to unleash the heavy weight of everything she'd felt in the months past without him in the form of an angered tirade.

Yet... his eyes. Ever soft, like sunlight.

Slowly, she shook her head. Her forehead pressed to his broad shoulder and she sniffed into his coat, the tears overflowing out from her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. I thought I'd lost you. Her voice trembled.

Hilde desperately clung to the hope that, perhaps, he'd been transported inadvertently—much like she had. Between soft, suppressed sobs, she quietly mumbled. Please... please... tell me you didn't leave me... Her face buried against his withers.

skill:

The feel of her touch sent a fire down his spine, the behemoth enveloping her slowly as if to prove that she were real and there the same as he was. Touch was a language his people knew quite well. It was not uncommon to see friends embrace just the same as lovers would - but this went far past such notions. It was so simple, starting with the electric brush of fur against fur, and then the press of bodies, and he sighed as he sank into her as if he'd carried this great weight forever.

He had, hadn't he? Even having Ormr and Eira back temporarily had only soothed parts of him - the rest were left jagged and open, aching and hurting for the ones he missed so dearly. There was no doubt that Vidarr had made his home with the Dawnbreak wolves, and that he had integrated himself fully and cared for them as if they were his own. And every one of them was, even if he had not met them yet. But she was not of Dawnbreak, she was purely his. All too soon Hildeguarde pulled back - even the minimal distance it took so that they were eye to eye, and Vidarr licked his lips nervously. He expected the rage - the same fire that Eira had given him when left to settle on his throne and carry the clan on her own.

Vidarr braced himself, muscles tensing as she spoke - and it was true. There had been no signs to show where he had gone, where he might be, what he might be doing - it was as if he had never existed outside of the minds and hearts of those who knew him and cared for him. That is how many enter this world. Vidarr said it gently, golden gaze sweeping over her as she drew close again. It would be her rights to claim from his flesh, to mar him for the pain he had caused, even if it was not of his own volition. Nei, fjársjóður minn - hjarta mitt, ég hefði ekki viljað yfirgefa þig. Aldrei.. (No, my treasure - my heart, I could not have willingly left you. Never..) There had not been a choice - just as she had not been given a choice, and they had never been given any other options.

Are you alright though? Not hurt? His rough tongue chased the faint path left by her tears, nose tucked to her temple for a moment before he adjusted his stance and instead folded her into his embrace, shielding her from the rest of the world. He was fortunate that she had not been found half drowned, though the way she tried to hide her tears might leave her feeling that way. He let out a heavy sigh, burly frame carefully embracing hers. Hilde, He said her name so softly - barely more than a whisper, but the one that his heart and mind had echoed to him frequently. I've got you. Vidarr promised, his own eyes misty with the overwhelming feelings. It was gratitude, disbelief, a strange burning wonder that he'd never let go of. He did not understand why he had been drawn here, nor why she had, but he was glad. Even though their friends and families would miss her - miss them both, even - he selfishly felt his heart so full that for a moment it took away all the other pains he carried.

Skill: Heartbroken[2/5]

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Hilde felt the soft lap of his tongue across her cheek, 'I've got you.' The words reached her ears, and her limbs buckled. Her haunches landed on the ground with a dull thump, and her lean body pressed into him frantically. It was him. It wasn't a dream. Not an apparition. Not a joke, a prank played by the gods. It was Vidarr. Him.

She sucked in a stuttering breath and held herself so impossibly close to him—like two pieces of a puzzle. Her head slotted beneath his chin, her snout buried in the long tresses of his mane. How so desperately her mind wanted to be angry with him. To refuse to believe that he was honest. To cling to the conclusion that he'd betrayed her—that all of the pain and spite that's accumulated over the months was for good reason. She wanted to curse, to kick, to bite, snarl—as she'd always done in the face of such fervent emotion. Yet, his voice, rumbling against her frame, the soft touch of his tongue to her face ever so placating. He was her peace... and after so long, she had it back again. There would be no impulse nor any habit that would overpower the tranquility that cascaded upon her when she felt his caress.

Hilde tried to rise once again, but she couldn't. Her body shook, her voice choked up by a sob. Why? her voice wavered with raw emotion, why were you taken from me? She shook her head. All this time, all this... this pain... what did I—we do? Did it truly matter? She was back with him once again. So, did the fact that they parted ways in the first place really matter? The warrior wanted to let it all go, but simultaneously, she needed an explanation. She needed to know what she could do to prevent his from happening ever again.

And suddenly, she froze. Her lips parted for a heartbeat in horror before she raised her gaze to meet Vidarr's. Vidarr, Thyra, she breathed out, no, no no... please... she must be here somewhere. She stumbled away from his touch—and immediately, she felt so much colder. But...

Thyra!! she called, Thyra, are you... she couldn't be away from her. No, not her. Vidarr, no... she... she can't be alone... I— her words were stuttered with distress. At first she feared for Vidarr, away from both herself and Thyra—but, now, she was the one who'd been separated.

skill:

The warmth of her touch permeated far past his fur, to the skin it covered, and then even deeper - it filled his heart and radiated everywhere else. Vidarr let out a heavy sigh and tucked her against his chest. Having her settled right where she belonged, right where he wanted her to be, it was enough to ease some of the hurt from the losses. Between being taken from his people and his home, from losing Olive and Tiberius and Genghis - the wildfires that had left him scarred and hurt, all of it. He had returned to Dawnbreak to find his siblings gone, vanished from him and from Dawnbreak too, where they had forged their own relationships in his absence. His hope was that they had returned to Kaldrvegr, but he had no way to know.

None of us know, my love. He said as he leaned in to nuzzle her again. He wanted to try and give her comfort, he wanted to understand what she needed from him the most. None of us know why we are brought here, none of us know why we are chosen. This is the second land that I ended up with, but this time I was fortunate enough to have the support of the wolves I had met there too. We all were taken, together. Vidarr wished that he could have had the same thing here - that Kaldrvegr had been here too. He missed his brothers, his mother - and then.

Her golden gaze pierced through his own and his brow furrowed, mouth forming the beginning of asking what was wrong because she was so stricken before she choked out Thyra's name. She backed up, and then began to call for her, to try and reunite them. Hilde, He stepped closer to her as if seeking the connection again, desperate to feel her fur brush against his - how could they be apart, even the scarce steps, when he'd only just got her back? Hildeguarde, He rarely said her entire name, he'd always teased what a mouthful it was only to follow it up with how putting his mouth to use to serve her in any way was an honor. In her sorrow though, his mouth felt clumsy, and he swallowed quickly. I have not found her here, Hilde.

Gently he pressed a kiss to her forehead. It does not mean that we won't find her, though. Hope had to prosper - against all odds, against the time and the cosmos and all of it, they had reunited. Surely it meant that they would find Thyra again.

Skill: Heartbroken [3/5]

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No, no—not Thyra. The soft-hearted woman that would do no wrong—not ever. Hilde's lips curled in anger. Curse this... this god-forsaken place, she spat, her voice was stuttered with anguish, that took you from me... that took me from Thyra. As though he were her lifeline, her one source of oxygen, she pressed her face deeply into his shoulder. Her eyes held shut so tightly that phosphenes swirled about in the black expanse of her closed eyes. No matter the optimism in his words, there was a gaping wound in her chest that would not heal without the presence of their third.

Hildeguarde eventually pulled back, ears pinned to her nape. I wanna go home, Vidarr, her voice shook like a frightened child. Her eyes were half shut. Exhausted. All of this was too much, too fast—if she fell asleep once again and awakened, would she be back home? With him, with Thyra, all three of them. Like it was all a simple dream. Nothing more.

Once again, her head pressed against the crook of his throat. Only this time, it was not an embrace full of desperation and passion like before. There were no words of anguish and indignance spilling from her dark lips—instead, Hilde simply leaned her weight against his broad frame with muscles loosened by exhaustion. Body wearied by all the raw emotion that she carried for months—years, all of which came tumbling down with abandon the moment she saw Vidarr's night-fallen frame.

skill:

His little aldrnari (fire; nourisher of life) was the type to not let anything just go. No one was left behind, no one would be hurt on her watch and if they were she jumped into action to correct the situation. Her sharp words towards the very world itself made a brief smile grow on his face. She was still made of fire, a spark in the night when it was otherwise too quiet and too still. Knowing that she had not changed so drastically acted like a balm to the egregious wound that had been left by being ripped from them. This world is quite different - but there is the chance of finding others, even. It was at least possible.

Vidarr pressed a kiss to the top of her head as she pressed into him, trying to be present for her sake because he had years of adjusting. Hilde was just dealing with the chaos on this process, of being brought into a whole new life almost. It would be different, however, Vidarr knew how resilient his love was. She would rise to the occasion, at least once the initial shock wore off. Vidarr let her pull back to meet his eyes again. Home was different now - a fact that hurt him in many ways, but at the same time, he was proud of Dawnbreak just as if it was his own. And the wolves of it, at its heart, were his.

For a time Eira and Ormr were here, but they vanished. I do not know where to. Because by the time he'd come back to find his siblings missing, there were no trails to track, and he could not leave his family again when they needed him most. Come, Hilde. Come with me. It is not Kaldrvegr, of course, but Dawnbreak has been good to me. I am sure they will be good to you, as well. He did not want her to hold onto a false hope that they would return to Kaldrvegr. He had never, after all.

Home is wherever I'm with youwherever you are. And Vidarr could know peace, being given the gift of her presence again.