Spirit has taken to wandering since the snows out west turned purple, deadly, magic spilling into the lands like an ex-lover coming to smash your car. There was no refuge south either, the lands either having poison water that begs you to drink it in, and a miasma that sends beings into rages.

They weren't interested in dying to a magic plague, thank you very much. This body was fine as it was, capable of speech, free. If she died now, she might wake up again as a human or worse a pet. Those were the worst lives, their rage being mistaken for rabies, humans putting them down with various objects.

This body...well, it was starting to get up there in years, somehow. Old age was creeping closer, a feat she's yet to properly achieve, it might be nice if this life is the first. It's lonely, but since arriving in Mythris she's yet to kill anything sentient, so...it's fine.

But it was that loneliness that had them here, sitting just a bit away from these pack borders, waiting for a patrol to come by instead of howling an announcement. Spirit knew there should be one coming around...at some point..given the scents were starting to grow stale, so no need to send anyone rushing this way to meet a stranger.

So they sat, Solas on their back and snoozing the rest of the day away.

....maybe they should have waited until morning.

Skill: Diplomat

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Set about 10pm.

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Abaddon had taken to pacing the borders where Lithe had left in hopes that he would catch her when she returned. He didn't know when that would be or how she would return but she would one day, he was sure of it. It didn't take him long to find the large woman near their borders, she was massive, like he would be one day, She had a large scar exposing the skin on her back and she had lost the tail that she could curl around herself...

He stopped inside their borders, a few feet from the scent line, and let out a sharp bark to announce himself. Twitching pale audits the boy stood tall and proud, his tail arched high over his back, blinking as he awaited her awakening.

He wasn't excited, he wasn't nervous, he wasn't anxious. He just was, his duo-toned optics scanning along her frame with mild curiosity, she sported an owl with her, which he found a bit odd. He noted that the thing would have sharp claws and he'd better tread lightly if he wanted to keep all his fur and his eyes intact, he didn't know how trained this bird was and how vicious it could be.

She probably should have howled.

But damn if her lives haven't made her patient, the first hour had gone by, then the second had the sun falling behind the horizon, by the third she was about to turn around and try tomorrow when a boy appeared.

Her pale blue eyes watched him approach, he was so young to be near the borders by himself what the hell, and he reeked something fierce. Where are his parents? Do they not make their children bathe?

He even barked at her, what kind of feral child was this.

Spirit raised an eyebrow, looking the teenager over quickly, yea ok this was a kid and not a skinny adult. Hello to you too, are your parents around? Her voice was deep as she spoke, rumbling, masculine, sounding unbothered about the wait or that this child was trying dominance displays on her. She stood, looking at him and then past him.

The owl meanwhile was awake by now, staring at the boy with big knowing eyes, smartly keeping her beak shut like she had promised, though if the pair stay here...he may find her tongue as sharp as her claws.

Skill: Diplomat

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Spirit

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She raised an eyebrow and asked about his parents... Parents... Parent...

Stifling a growl he curled his lip up a little bit in anger but pushed it down quickly for the sake of diplomacy... Mother wouldn't like if he tore into a newcomer, especially one that had manners and waited outside their borders...

I can call my mom... He said to them finally after a few moments of silence between them, his gaze bouncing between the beast of a woman swathed in ivory fur like a few of the pack wolves.

His lip had relaxed though he held his dominance stand, he knew where he stood in the pack, in these lands. Abaddon knew the power he held... Just ask Apolune...

Oh wait...

You cant.

Do so they replied, cooly, unimpressed eyes flicking back to the child. I was expecting for an adult to come by earlier, but it looks like your pack's patrols are spread further than I thought. And they really didn't have anywhere else to be honestly. But here they are now, with a teenager with more ego than brain, they wouldn't be surprised if he was a prince.

The owl let out quiet little hoots, her version of laughter, she's going to have fun here she thinks as she shuffles her feathers.

Skill:

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Spirit

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They coolly stated that he should Do so and Abaddon replied with a stifled Pheh. His eyes flicking over the other once more and wondering if he could take them on... If he could manipulate Momma again... Nahhhh...

Shrugging after a moment passed over him where he felt frustrated and so small, he tossed back his head and called for Momma.

After his deep howl had ended he lowered his head and stared back at the cackling owl and it's owner in silence with another flick of his ivory audits in irritation.

Almost immediately after Abaddon howled for her, the Sovereign-Queen appeared from the slopes and crags. (Cue DOOM Eternal music here)
Authority rippled through her towering form as easily as her muscles rippled underneath the thick white fur of her form, blazing-gold eyes briefly flitting to her son, but primarily remaining on the stranger as the Warqueen drew closer, stopping a stride or two in front of Abaddon, finally (fully) noticing the owl perched on the stranger's nape.
Glancing to Abaddon briefly with a stern expression, for she knew of her son's cocky temperament and violent tendencies, she held the firm expression on Abaddon for a beat to drive her nonverbal point home, before returning her attention to the pale bunny-butt visitor and their bird; 

"I am Nyra, Sovereign of Hildibrandr; What is your business here?" She supposed Abaddon could learn something from watching how she interacted with strangers - hopefully something like a lesson in diplomacy instead of unnecessary violence? 

By the gods, she could at least hope.

Spirit perked up when the pale white form appeared on the slopes, ears forward as she watched the woman approach.

Now that was a queen right there, and that means their guess about the boy being a snotty prince is right.

Spirit nodded her head in a quick bow as Nyra introduced herself as the Sovereign of Hildibrandr.

Vikings, she knows vikings. Hell, she can even explain away her curse as the berserker trance when it came time to reveal it, they'd probably understand...probably.

My name is Spirit, the owl is Solas they nodded to the owl, who bobbed her head up like 'sup'. I'm looking for a pack to join, if you're in need of warriors Their pelt was written with their experience, their scars, their missing tail. Everything screamed 'old warrior'. They had a thought, to mention the plague flooding the lands with this section of the world free from it, that they may just be the first of many heading this way.

But something tells them that Nyra wasn't one for pitches, or sob stories.

Skill:

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Spirit

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Abaddon didn't have to wait long for Momma to appear, and when she did she cast a glance at him as if he'd done something wrong and the boy had to hold back a flattening of ears at her disapproval. A piece of him was irritated that she'd cast such an icy gaze at him, at his behavior that hadn't happened... Honestly it lit a flicker of a flame in his chest that made him want to go out and commit random acts of violence on the animals in the forest that surrounded them.

He lowered his eyebrows over citrine and crimson and stared at Momma's behind for a moment once she turned away and back towards the stranger. Searing fire into her fur momentarily, but the feeling faded almost as quickly as it had appeared...

... How annoying....

His eyes shifted to the strange wolf that now introduced themselves as Spirit and their owl companion as Solas. The pale ghost of a warrior mentioned they were looking for a pack to join if they were in need of warriors and Abaddon nodded as he tucked that information away in his mind for later. Warriors, this one was experienced... He should have known by the scars...

Ab sniffed the air and shuddered as the scent of peppermint, sage, and juniper overtook his senses, he tried to nab at Spirits scent but all he could smell was Momma. His focus averted straight back to the massive form of the Sovereign as she tentatively took a few steps forward and stood next to Nyra.

Abaddon sat down and curled his tail around his thick haunches, sitting proudly and silently next to Momma, his eyes locked onto her face. He was large but Momma was still larger. He patiently waited for Momma to speak, hanging on her every breath, every word, with his own baited breath...

...Momma...

The War-Queen listened patiently as the stranger introduced themself as Spirit, and the owl as Solas - who seemed keen to introduce herself as well with a quick popping-up of her head in what seemed a tad more casual of a greeting than Spirit's initial bow.
Nyra's attention went back to Spirit's face as she expressed interest in joining, and the Monarch assumed with their specification on warriors, that perhaps the path of combat was all Spirit knew?

As Abaddon came and sat by her paws, the Queen glanced to him in time to see him looking up at her - and she couldn't help but smile a little, warmly, at him before she focused back on Spirit and Solas; "You may stay. I will place you as Radningar, beside the other few soldiers I do have currently." 
The War-Monarch moved aside then, her body language invitational as she began moving a few paces further into her territory, glancing again at her son; "Did you introduce yourself properly?" She asked of Abaddon, opening the opportunity for him to be a proper prince instead of...whatever he had done before she arrived.