Laying with her muzzle on her paws, Katja watched the antics of her pack as they celebrated their victory. Not all appeared to be as eager to celebrate, but others were coaxing them in and she would leave that up to her pack to settle for themselves. She was tired, bone-deep tired, and ached with wounds she had taken in battle and reopened. She was getting older, her body less resilient, and the wounds and the blood loss were hitting her harder now than they had once done. The knowledge did not frighten her, for no matter how infirm her body grew she would never shirk from a fight and no matter her age she would die in battle to join Auora in Valhalla, but it did raise a certain melancholy within her. What didshe have to leave behind as a legacy? Laufey had his young son, Auora had birthed two fine warriors, but neither Laufey nor Laerke and Lyndvarr had been raised Finnvi despite their blood. Was young Stori to be her legacy? This child, born of a thrall, the only Finnvi child? She would have to find Laufey a proper wife to bear children upon... or perhaps Kapra, though he would likely chafe at the responsibility. Musing to herself in this vein, she continued to watch, shifting occasionally as her wounds pained her.

Ah, what a night this was. Some of Yfir seemed intent on resting rather than celebration, and while he preferred the more festive route, he understood that others might not. Katja was one of these, who he found resting by herself, enjoying the festivities from afar. He could feel the ache of battle, settling deep within his bones, though his spirit was very much awake still and he longed to continue on through the night. He had no doubt that his cousin was feeling it too. Only one thing, other than time and rest, could ease her pains. Eyeing her for a moment, he then disappeared from the gathering to his den, retrieving a small mouthful of herbs that he intended to offer her. It was likely she would reject them, but it was worth a try to ease her pain and let her enjoy as much of the night as she could. Slowly he moved from the den and made his way back toward her, feeling his own muscles aching deeply. As he came to her, he dropped a few of the salvia leaves at her paws. "These will help with the pain," he offered with a somber nod. He didn't intend for it to be recreational, purely medicinal - but he was far too used to consuming these herbs to have any idea what a suitable dose was, though he was certain he knew. "I'd eat two leaves. Should be enough to take the edge off the pain for a few hours." ..and maybe enough to produce some mild hallucinations it someone who wasn't used to taking such herbs, but that was another story entirely, and not something he was at all considering.

As she watched the slowly dispersing group, Katja decided there would need to be more to bring them together. Though she watched Kassander beginning to relax and speak with Harekr and Lindvarr, it wasn't enough just for one pack member to grow and begin to integrate into the whole. Others were not making the effort to mingle with their pack members. Hypnos, Kismet, Vereux... Kismet had not even appeared, and Katja was forced to wonder if the boy had even remained to guard the borders or if he had slipped out while the pack was raiding. Kapra materialized through the darkness to offer her some herbs for the pain, and Katja absently complied with his instructions. "Kapra," she rumbled as she waited for the herbs to begin their work, to dull the pain, "What are we to do with them? We are celebrating a victorious raid yet they act as though we had failed. They are not vikings... They are not a pack. What are we leaving them to, when we are gone?" She closed her eyes and tucked her muzzle against her chest. "Talk" "You" Think

He had not meant to intentionally mislead her into taking these herbs. Perhaps he could've found a better pain killer, but he himself felt fatigue lingering deep in his bones. Idly he would chew a few of the leaves himself, knowing it would get him through a few more hours of the evening, if nothing else. He was accustomed to the bitter taste and he was able to consume them quickly, though Katja didn't seemed phased at the taste in the slightest. Her mind seemed to wander from the battle to more somber topics. She was right; they were not vikings, not like he and Katja. And though Laufey would someday be fit to lead Yfir, who would help him? He had held hope in his heart that Hypnos might some day truly follow in their pawsteps but his progress was slower than he had hoped. A slight frown touched his lips as he considered what she spoke of. It was true though; what were they doing with these wolves? When she and Katja died, a thought that was not at all difficult for him to imagine, what would they do? Scatter to the wind like lost children? "One of us needs an heir," he said finally, plainly. He would have no problem with finding a woman to produce a suitable heir of his own; he wouldn't be surprised if he had children already, somewhere in the world. But to lead Yfir? They needed more than just any child, but a true Viking. "Someone born of our blood, of a solid bloodline, to help guide Yfir to greatness." His gaze found her in the darkness, waiting for her reaction. He knew she had an oath to Freyja and yet he couldn't help but wish that she would be willing to produce an heir someday, for she seemed better suited to it than he. "If not, I fear what we have done for them is in vain."

Kapra, though he was often manic, often her opposite in many ways, was as much a Finnvi as was Katja, and her words sparked in him a matching thoughtfulness, and his words were of wisdom. "Yes," she sighed aloud, watching the play of the moonlight on his brown fur. It seemed almost alive, a sleek slippery serpent of moonlight coiling around her cousin like a silver shadow of his very own serpent. "I had thought to find a wife for you, or perhaps Laufey... He has Stori, but the boy was illegitimate and born of a thrall and this may yet prove him undesirable. A single possible heir to your brother's line. I do not know..." She shook her head, and as she did she became the moon serpent that coiled around Kapra and stared at her with moonstone eyes, her own body frozen and glassy eyed, and she sucked in a deep breath that came out as a hiss. Had the gods granted her this vision? Was this what Auora had felt when she was touched by the Norns? This... twisting time, folding upon her. She closed her eyes but she could still feel the moonlight sliding beneath her skin. "The gods will guide us, Kapra," she whispered, though she could not say if she'd said it aloud or if it was just the bell-tone within her skull. "Talk" "You" Think

The plants he had consumed would take longer to work on him; their effects were dull, lessened by the pain he felt aching in his bones and the tolerance for them he had built over the years. The world seemed to brighten slightly, partially obscuring the pain and partially heightening his senses. The feeling was dull, but noticeable, from the small amount of herbs he had consumed. His eyes grew gentler as he watched her, a startling difference from his usual hysterical, wide-eyed stare. Her own attention seemed to shift toward him, a strangeness in her eyes. He figured it was the herbs, soothing her pain, pouring over her mind like water might cascade over the rocks of a waterfall. "A wife for me?" he asked, a rhetorical question, laughing a bit. Perhaps if the gods meant it, it would be, but it was not something he envisioned for himself. While loyalty was of the utmost importance to him, it was not that kind of loyalty. He felt no real pull for heirs; he had found no woman suitable to carry his seed. If there would be more Finnvi children, they could not just come from anyone. He laughed softly at his own words, though grew somber once again. "Laufey's son would not work as an heir," he would admit, his gaze shifting away from her. "What do we know of the mother? Either way, a thrall's child will not be suitable. Not at all." His brows pulled together as he found himself slipping into deeper thought. Katja was far too suited to bear children to continue the Finnvi legacy, and yet she had sworn herself to Freya. But the gods were not unchanging; perhaps they might decide they had more use of Katja than that. His mind whirled. "Perhaps Laufey has some idea what we might do," he sputtered finally, lifting his head to his nephew's direction, letting a sharp bark echo across the land. He felt a sudden need to figure this out, as though time was suddenly running out and the weight of this decision fell squarely upon his shoulders.

Blissfully unaware that he was listing ever so slightly to the left as he walked, Laufey padded slowly in Kaprasius' direction. There was a noticeable slouch in his usually proud posture and a looseness to his movements that suggested he'd made a point to sample all of the things that had been presented to him in the celebration. Laufey felt very, very good. Impossibly good. Invincible, even. The raid had wound him up, but the festivities had taken that frenzy and twisted it into such a feeling of superiority that he felt he could, despite his injured state, take on any opponent and win. Suddenly face to face with a scraggly tree that had jumped out in front of him, Laufey corrected his posture and in doing so put an end to the leftward listing. It was just in time too, because there, right around the bend and quickly coming into view, was his aunt and uncle. His tone jovial, he boomed, "Kaprasius, Katja! Why so...serious?" They should be celebrating!

Kapra's words seemed to slide away, each note cracking into the air like a lightning bolt but only the afterlight remaining like faint multicolored glows in the air. She opened her eyes again to stare down at herself from among the stars. She, Kapra. The only two remaining of their generation. They were still so young and foolish. So... three dimensional. She could see... so much more. She could see time crashing over them. Aging them. Were they becoming wiser? No - not in the grand scheme. Without the gods' guidance they were but children stumbling through a maze blindfolded, only the maze was always changing and the prize at the center was unattainable in life.

"Laufey."

The word rang unbidden from her throat, a solemn bell-tone that shivered in the air between them and drew her abruptly back to her own physical shell. It left her feeling... lost. Blinded when she had seen so much. Bereft. She had seen so much, time flowing before her like a river and now she saw nothing. "Nei. Nei, við erum glötuð. Hvar eru börnin, Kapra? Ég sá þá í stjörnurnar ..."

Laufey's deep voice like thunder boomed around them, a mountain's voice, and Katja's gaze froze on his as the moon pulled his form from the darkness into the purest of light that swirled and danced around them like a fog yet so solidly he stood there as though two separate forms inhabited the warrior. Who spoke through him? What was he trying to tell her? "One child is not enough to ensure our family's survival. I can see... You have shown me... I could see the way but it was taken from me. Auora þar hefur þú farið?" Frustration, her words tumbling red into the air and she examined them with narrowed gaze. She could... perhaps... Laerke and Laufey? No. Time crashed over her and she shuddered as ice dripped through her veins. The way time eddied and swirled around the three of them terrified her in a way she had never felt before. Control had been taken from her and placed firmly in the guiding paws of the gods as they tried to show her but Katja was no priest. She did not understand this world she found herself in.


OOC: she drops into Icelandic for a while but it's meant as old norse - Icelandic's just the closest modern language that I could use to translate. It hasn't changed a whole lot from old norse so I'm just pretending it's not Icelandic. ;)

There was no doubt that Laufey had been celebrating as he ought to be; a grin would appear at his nephew's sudden presence, his features lighting up significantly despite the comparably more solemn thoughts that plagued him.  "We were discussing the future of Yfir,"  he would explain gently before Katja began to speak. She had slipped into an ancient tongue, one that was familiar to him, but he was not entirely fluent in it. It seemed that the herbs had not only relaxed her body, but her mind as well.. perhaps more significantly than he had intended.  His briefly elated expression seemed to slip away, his brows pulling together as the gravity of the situation weighed down on him. It was accentuated by the wounds he had acquired, and the herbs that had begun to work their magic on his head, but his eyes were serious as he gazed at Laufey. "How many children do you see?"  he would turn back to Katja, inquiring gently, his eyes wide with interest. The gods were speaking to her; he could feel their presence her. They were showing her the way, intending to guide her, that much was obvious.. but in which direction? He shuffled slightly closer to press his nose to the side of her neck, as though his touch might aid her.  "Eru þeir börnin þín?"

The future of Yfir? Now there was a heavy topic. Too heavy, really, for one as inebriated as Laufey. His eyebrows lifted and his lips pursed together to form a silent 'o' as his chin rose and then fell in an understanding (but not really understanding) nod. Katja went on to speak words he didn't understand - it took him far too long to realize why he couldn't understand them - and confusion brought his eyebrows together. One child? How many children? What was he missing? The 'one child' Katja spoke about had to be Stori, right? It wasn't like there were that many children in Yfir. So Kaprasius' question coming on the heels of more words he didn't understand made Laufey's foggy brain assume they were talking about him and his children. Tentatively he asked, "Am I going to father more children?"

Katja heard voices only dimly as she sank to her belly, consumed by the nebulous stars that dripped down around them. Like a thick black oil they seeped into her bones and she trembled, gasping, but opening her mouth only allowed the star-liquid to flow into her, freezing cold and choking her. "They want to know what you see," a deep voice observed to her. She lifted her eyes to the speaker to see a grizzled old battlescarred male - a coat of reddish brown long since gone to gray, one-eyed and yellow-toothed, but with the burly build of a warrior who has not gone soft in his age. She had never seen this male, could not comprehend him. "I saw many children," she gasped aloud through the slick star-night. "The line of the Finnvi repeated back and back, and on and on. As my cousins were born, god-touched and sacred, so shall we be reborn again." "Yes," the battlescarred male answered her back thoughtfully, "I have seen thusly as well. Do you know me?" A mute shake of her head. "Oh, but you do, as I know you... You are sworn to Freyja, Katja Finnvi." He stalked forward to stare deeply into her wide silver gaze. "But she answers to me, ulfr. You will do as I bid you." The stars left her with a rush to race cackling for the sky, and the moon-serpent curled about her cousins as air filled her lungs and sight returned to her once again. The grizzled male stepped over her, touched his nose to Laufey's and her pale tall cousin dissolved with a bright scattering of stardust. He dropped his one eye in a solemn wink, and the stardust coated his form, leaving only Laufey standing there gleaming from within. Katja lurched to her feet. Everything she had seen coalesced, the sudden bright light of understanding illuminating the visions like dust motes in a sunbeam. "I know who you are," she spoke to the creature who had borrowed Laufey's form in a low gravelly voice, her hackles spiking wildly in superstitious alarm, as though a bolt of lightning had struck her. "I know what I must do." On legs that shook as though she had run the length of the continent and back, with eyes that were more pupil than they were silver and the air thick with dreams she could not flee from, she turned and bounded away into the shuddering darkness. -exit Katja- "" ?? ""

Laufey wasn't following along, but he saw some sudden spark of insight in Katja's stare. She grew more detached from the present moment by the second; sinking quietly into the earth before speaking once again. Her words were not directed at him, nor at Laufey, who sat with his mouth agape staring at them both questioningly. The knowledge of what was going on hit him suddenly. He'd given her some of his herbs, to relax her body, to let her mind sway, just slightly. But she wasn't used to taking herbs like he was, and the same dose that was quite minimal for him was too powerful for her. His mouth twisted suddenly, unsure whether he ought to feel panicked or amused, and instead he settled somewhere in between. It was impossible to know what was happening in her mind, but the gods were speaking to her -- and suddenly she leaped up, away and into the darkness. He snorted, laughing in amusement, though he knew she might need supervision. Well, even if she didn't necessarily need it, it wouldn't hurt. At least until the greatest effects of the herb wore off.  "Go follow her,"  he suggested to Laufey. The effects the drug had on him were far milder, and suddenly he felt exhausted and ready to fall asleep.  "I gave her some salvia. The gods have come to her. It can be quite a terrifying experience.. and a delightful one. But she'll need someone." And Kapra was not that someone, as he felt his eyes slowly drooping as though sleep would overtake him at any instant.

Things were happening and when it came to following it all, Laufey didn't have a prayer. Katja scuttled off suddenly without an explanation as to what was happening. The brute stared quizzically after her, something he would have continued doing for some time had Kaprasius not laughed loudly. "Go follow her." Laufey turned to slow blink at Kaprasius and listened intently as his uncle explained. The gods, huh? He nodded in understanding. Finally, an explanation! And something to do. He nodded again. Yes, he'd look after her. That was a marvelous idea. "Don't worry, Kapra," - was he slurring a little? - "I'll take care of her." Without another word Laufey ambled off after Katja. -exit-