Just as a fragile flower blooms, Valeriya had been born. As time passed she'd come into her beauty, and into her thorns as well. It had taken the flood of her mother leaving to wash away her youth, to swirl her about and dump her onto some godsforsaken floodpain. She'd been buried amongst the sand and muck, hardened into the flats, compressed into stone. Hidden beneath her newly fledged adult pelt was a myriad of scars and bruises, newly acquired. Where her sapphire irises had once glinted with youthful exuberance, they were now tinged with a certain aspect of darkness. Roaming the lands had taught her little and less except to expect the worse of others. Rogues would jump you the moment you turned your back. Males would press their suits to the point of violence. Prey would hide when you needed it most. And mother's would leave you stranded. The young woman huffed out a dry laugh and rolled her eyes. What was a mother anyways? At that point, she wasn't sure she'd even know the difference between what she's had and what she dreamed of possessing. The only thing I want, she told herself with resolution, is a sharp set of teeth and a full belly. In the months she'd been wandering the hills and valleys of Alacritis, very little else had mattered. But now she had turned her course for home. Whether she was returning or visiting, well... That would depend on whether or not her mother was there waiting for her. Thoughts of moonlight glinting off of fangs, of clashing wills and the sound of snarls darkened her thoughts. Their reunion would be far from joyous, Val had decided, even if it meant the Queen's heir would walk away bruised and battered. Abandoning them twice wasn't something Val could just forgive. No, what she really wanted was Katja. The warrior had been somewhat glorified in the girl's time away from home. Every contest she'd found herself up against had usually been accompanied by the same strain of thought. Katja would be able to scare that lynx off of it's kill. Katja would know the best way to ford a swollen river. Katja would know the difference between a suitable den and a barren hole one good rainstorm away from caving in. All the things that mattered to the young Valkyrie weren't things Raisa could help her with, the girl was certain. All she'd ever seen her mother do was cave under pressure and fail them. So it was with a grim sort of resolution that Val sat herself on the Ebony border, hopeful that someone would pass her by. It was no longer her home, after all, this land that they had all told her since birth would one day belong to her. She had no right to cross it's border, so she would wait instead. "Talk" "You" Think

Things had been rough for the pack as of late. There was a great deal of unrest both inside and outside the pack, and a part of her she didn't even know existed ached for the first time for the comfort of the familiar, of family-who-were-not-family. Raisa, her children, they were more to her than anyone had ever managed to be. The knowledge that her sister had foreseen her own death, that she had dreamed of Jaeger's... Katja could return to her family, and yet... and yet. Raisa. Valeriya. Sigmarr. Svetlana, Kassander, Sindri. Ebony. Even without her oath they were family now, bound as surely as if the gods themselves had come before her and declared it. She could not abandon them simply because... what? She was homesick? Anyone who knew her as the stoic viking would have laughed to see her thoughts. Such were the things tumbling through her mind as a familiar scent touched her nose. At first she dismissed it as fanciful foolishness born of her own maudlin thoughts, or some trick of Loki's. But no, there it was, the scent of the eldest Xanilov girl. Returned? Perhaps. It may yet be some trick of Loki's. Cautiously, silently, the viking stalked the scent through the steppes. There, on the border... the shape of a wolf fast approaching adulthood, who shared coloring with Kassander... and the Xanilov mask was a giveaway. "Ah, litt valkyrie," she murmured in the language of the norsemen. "Synet av deg gir meg glede." Stepping closer she added in Val's own language, "Glad I am that you have returned."

The gods were with the youngling tonight. From the shadows a dark figure appeared, indistinct at first but slowly given form. Val rose from her seated position, tail sweeping slowly from side to side as a weak smile spread across her face. The scents of her other pack mates were vague and faint upon the woman's coat, but as far as the young girl could tell her mother's was not among them. She didn't know whether to feel angered or relieved. "And I'm glad to be here," she responded gently. The young fae wondered if her voice had changed at all in her older companion's ears. "I take it my mother is absent still?" A scowl curdled onto her face before Katja would have a chance to respond, marking her distaste as quite evident. Valeriya was not ashamed to show such open enmity towards the fae who had birthed her and abandoned her. Abandoned them all. Valeriya did not quite know how to voice all that she intended to say. Would Katja force her to stay now that she'd finally returned? That was far from the girl's wishes. No, for all the hardships she'd faced, the young girl had found something out in the wildlands that just didn't exist in her homelands. The element of danger presented her with a constant slew of problems to test herself against. She was a hot sheet of iron flush against the anvil of the world, and each strike came from her own determination to succeed, slowly shaping her pliable form into something new, stronger, and more dangerous. Within Ebony she would be warm, well fed, protected, safe... She could not bear the thought. "I do not intend to stay," she said slowly, wondering how the Queen Regent would respond. "Talk" "You" Think

The young wolf returned her greeting before asking after her mother with an expression of such bitterness that the tip of Katja's tail lashed, but she said nothing. The child had a right to her anger, and more, for her mother's abandonment twice over. Had she not felt a similar disappointment and hurt and anger? She would not condemn Val for hers, no matter that she was a child. "Returned, your mother had not," she instead confirmed. "I do hold Ebony in her stead until the day when you and your siblings are of age." Valeriya's tone lacked the defiance Katja might have expected in a young pup declaring that they were leaving their home pack, and Katja cocked her head to the side consideringly. "I would not force you to," she answered, perhaps as surprising to Val as it was to herself. But perhaps the gods had prompted her thoughtless words, for it felt right. The young wolf already almost topped the viking in height, and her newly-scarred body hardened and nearly battle-ready. Would the slow, soft life of a pack such as Ebony suit her any longer after her travels, any more than it suited Katja herself? Katja studied her silently for a moment before a soft sigh passed her lips. "Verily, you are free to leave if it is your wish," she said in confirmation of her earlier words. "Though there are things you should be knowing." She paused once more to marshal her words before continuing. "Your mother's lover, the Olympus wolf Virgil, does intend to spirit your siblings from me, back to her Olympus despite your mother's charge to me to care for you all. She knew of your disappearance and will be expecting you not, but you should be cautious if you do not intend to be residing in Olympus." She had more to say but for now she simply waited, to allow the girl to absorb the news. "

That the Xanilov queen was truly still absent struck Valeriya like... like a wad of snow. She expected the impact of such a large thing to hurt, yet when it finally struck her the mass fell apart at her feet. It affected her less than it probably should have, but the young once-princess would spare it no thought. She took Katja's reign in stride as well. It made sense, that the most competent among them should be chosen for such a post. Val wondered how it sat on her shoulders, whether or not Katja was enjoying her moment in the center of it all. For some reason, the young warrior doubted it very much. Katja had a head on her shoulders that bespoke a wisdom deeper than that which was needed to hold a band of wolves together. She knew how the individual worked, and seemed to understand as well Valeriya's bone-deep desire to roam. The young fae bowed her head in respect as well as appreciation. "Thank you for your understanding," she said, solemn. Though she had learned all she wished, Valeriya paused to listen as Katja continued. It was respectful of course, but she was also curious yet to hear of the pack's tidings, and damn it all if she couldn't help herself. Perhaps she had not killed off as much of her old spirit as she thought... Katja spoke. Your mother's lover, the Olympus wolf Virgil, does intend to spirit your siblings from me," she said, and the words set Val's ears to ringing. How could Virgil do that? She may have had a hand in raising the whole unruly lot of them, but Val was no fool! The golden goddess shared no blood with Raisa's children, and Ebony was their home! The thought of being forced into a new pack, new lands, even if it meant seeing her half siblings, horrified her. "What am I gonna do?" she asked, half in a panic. It was one thing to chase off small cats and badgers, but to fight a full grown wolf for her freedom? She wasn't ready for something like that! In earnest, Valeriya took a step forward. "Katja please, you have to help! I've been training like you taught us, but it's harder alone! Please, I don't want to belong to someone!" Her plea was heartfelt and desperate, filled with a wild yearning she suspected the darker woman would understand. "Talk" "You" Think