Marshal, the winged culture that had been with him all his life, would return with a message from Mortis. The small Kea his son used as a winged companion, didn’t have the same stamina as the vulture, and had finished the journey in her stead. He left Zee in charge of the Armada, and made his way towards Auster. Taking the land-locked paths, rather than the islands as his son had. The Warlord was not a fan of swimming. He reached the castle in short order, looking at the crumbling entrance with a frown. The last time he had been here, he had stood on he had thought was solid ground. Instead, it had been a thin board hidden beneath growth, and snapped under his immense weight. He had been carried home on a sled, and spent the next few months healing from a broken leg. Shaking aside the memories, he leaned forward through the gaping doorway between the stones. He let out a soft ‘chuff’ calling out for the occupants. The message had told the Warlord that his son had stayed here the night with ‘new friends’ "Speech"

The younger wolves had seemingly become fast friends and Sedna took it as a blessing really. For all it meant another youngling to keep an eye on, her ears had finally stopped ringing. They could chatter among themselves and she could finally focus on what was actually around her, like attempting to identify some sort of familiarity in the plants that trailed the side of the structure they had sheltered in. The whole place was like some great cave, but well above ground, and light filtered in through great openings in the walls. She could see the advantages to staying in a place like this for certain, curiosity creeping into her gut, wondering why no pack currently claimed the place. Then again, she supposed she could probably search the place a week and still discover nooks and crannies that would take her by surprise.

The silver woman just happened to be in earshot when the chuff came, her eyes already adjusted to the lighting inside picked out familiarities with young Mortis. The size for one, the fangs for another... though it was with some confusion that she noted the lack of wings, maybe from his mother then? and what she couldn’t tell from sight was confirmed by scent, at the very least, they were of the same pack. Her head dipped as she stepped from the shadows, partly in deference, but equally to protect her throat in case things went pear shaped, her tail dipped neutrally between her hocks. Her own mother would never stop to question a stranger that was found with one of her brood, always more a ask for forgiveness not permission, type, but if children were any measure of a pack (she found they were often a poor barometer, but could hope in this case, if nothing else), she might just escape with her hide intact.

Assumption might have been the mother of all fuck-ups, but this was the first real adult she had encountered in these lands. Not some barely past a yearling like herself that was just pretending to be an adulty adult. She wanted to get a feel for the locals, and what better way to do so than to push all the buttons that would have set her mother off? “I would have been happy to escort him home, you didn’t have to come all this way just for us.” There was a ghost of a smile at the corners of her lips, maybe even a hint of mischief in her tone as her tail took up the slightest wave at its tip, still pointed to the earth beneath her feet. She supposed, there was an advantage to neutral ground you lost when yowling at a border begging for attention. Maybe this suited her better.

"Speech"

It was in short order that he heard answering footsteps, that brought a figure into the foreground. His own eyes were still switching from sunlight to shadows. At first, he got only an impression of silvers. When the wolf came into sharp relief, he found a silver touched woman that was younger then he had expected. There was a lightness to her stance that had him suspecting she was a warrior. There was caution in her, but lightness and amusement as well. She had accepted his son for the night, and watched over her. If he knew nothing else of her, he knew this.

The old fighter returned her smile "I hear ducks pick up any lost duckling and add them to their brood..." he began, her mischief echoed in his own. "However this one was not lost, just apt to wonder his nose into any old business. I'm Sirius. He sent a messenger bird to tell me not to worry, but concern isn't so easily dismissed." He explained. Now that he had seen her, and heard the sound of playing children in the distance, he could see this was nothing hidden beneath the message. Mortis was well and fine, and it seemed he owed this stranger his thanks.

Sedna nodded her understanding. Her own mother certainly wouldn’t have been content with a message, “I don’t make a habit of it, but he offered some relief from my nieces incessant questions, so I figured keeping an eye on him was the least I could do.” She was still reluctant about offering her name, old world suspicions ground into her bones from a tender age. There was power in a name, and so she carefully tucked this one away somewhere safe.

Despite her trepidation, the Archer-Lyall knew she should be safe if she dropped part of it, at least until she was sure, and surely her mother had better standing with the fair folk than her father did. “Sedna Archer.” She finally offered with a small smile. “We haven’t been here long, but there are many things that are strange to us, so you have my apologies for not escorting him straight home.” That and they were clearly travel weary. They would have gotten there eventually, it would have been rude to not at least declare their presence if they happened to be in the area.

The Warlord was surprised to hear the child was her niece, and not her own. He wondered what had led to the two travelling here together. He didn’t catch any pack scents around her. He supposed it was possible they had simply come from further South of Auster, but they had the look of weary travellers. He suspected, but could not confirm, that they had taken some time to travel this way. “I’m surprised you didn’t instead lose both ears from either side of their chatter” he knew his boy could babble when he was in the right mood to. “Well met, Sedna Archer” he was already inclined to think well of the stranger. Mort’s message had spoken highly of her, and she had kept him under wing for the night. “It’s quite alright, he has my leave to travel as he may” here the Warlord gave a cocky grin. “There’s not many that can take on a Fatalis and win” he confided in her. “Where have you travelled from, if you don’t mind me asking?” "Speech"

A small snort left her lips and nose at the comment that marvelled at how her ears were still attached. For a moment her thoughts drifted to darker tales of her mothers youth, but she was quickly drawn back to the present as he continued.

The cocky grin reminded her of her mother further, no doubt Morganna had a similar sentiment about Archers, but the younger woman would keep that to herself for now, stamping down the lingering resentment that was mingled with budding homesickness. Questions of origins she wished to put behind her pickled at her skin like briars, though her discomfort wouldn’t be evident on the outside. “Far to the east, near a place called Wildwood. It’s an old world, with old blood. Nothing quite so impressive as yourself where I come from.” Her grin had turned coquettish for just a moment, using subtle flattery to cover for the imbalance of power, and her reluctance to tell the whole tale. Truth be told, the Wildwood was much closer to her Aunt Ravenna’s pack in the Willows, you would pass right by the Pookastone to reach it, but she doubted this man had any interest in tracing down her roots, beyond the current conversation at least, and if he made it that far, well, certainly the Scowle wolves would make their presence known first.

She supposed it said something of the locals that wolves under a year could wander unhindered by their neighbours. Maybe they hadn’t grown up with the yeth hounds, kelpies, pookas and tales of broken children’s corpses she had. “But what of this place? I’ve never seen such a strange cave system in my life... and is your home far from here?”

"Speech"

Sirius had never heard of the place she came from, and that intrigued him greatly. Old world, old blood, she said? It reminded him of the birthplace of the Empire. He did not share any lingering fondness for the place he had left behind. In the first Ashen Empire, he had been born. bred as a creature of war. To do the bidding of the Empire, and kill at their discretion. In its fall, he had found a place to rise. He raised a brow at her flirtatious words. “Perhaps not to the same size as myself, but certainly they bred grace.” His own words, coy, were spoken with amusement. His eyes lingered on the brush of cinnamon across her nose, and the delicate traces of silver across the darker tones on her body. He could admit to himself when something was easy on the eyes, but that would never change how he was a one-wolf type of man. There would never be another wolf in the world, quite like his Zee. “In the Castle? I’ve been here once before, shortly after the Risen Empire abandoned it. My home - Ashen Armada - lies in Boreas, the continent to the North of here. It’s joined to this one by a sandbar.” he explained easily. "Speech"

The girl allowed herself a snicker at her own expense. At home she had been known as a brawler, a wildcard with a short temper, arrogant, with numbers to back her up when she inevitably landed herself in the shit. Never had she ever thought to hear herself referred to as graceful. But that was the advantage of fresh starts and new faces wasn’t it? Perhaps she could aim to live up to her grandmothers reputation instead. She felt obligated to come somewhat clean. “Don’t let Sigrún overhear you saying that, I’ll never live it down and all my terrible secrets will be known to the world as she explains what it is she finds so amusing.”

It made sense the castle had been inhabited before, if she had the time to look a little closer, no doubt she would pick up on the signs of habitation, though she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to linger too long lest her limbs lock up. It was always better to keep moving. A sandbar... at least that would spare her from the sharks of her mothers bedtime stories she supposed, and while there was undoubtedly plenty to see down here, something told her heading North would be the better option.  

“Armada...” It was a contemplation, more than a question. “Do you live by the sea then?” That would explain why Mortis was still fine getting in the water, even after her tease about toothy fish.

"Speech"

The Warlord laughed softly, easily, at her words. So, that was the name of her niece, wasn’t it? She was the one to pry if he ever wanted Sedna’s backstory. Not that he would try anything so underhanded, but the idea was amusing. He took a step forward, moving closer into the shadows where she lay. Leaving behind the warm sunlight, and fresh morning for the dusty Castle. Here, he would catch an interesting scent, though he said nothing on it. He had lived enough years to know the taste of a wolf on heat. Brushing past this acknowledgment, he gazed about the crumbling hallways, wondering where his son had gotten to. He wasn’t worried, as he said - Mort could handle himself. He had been born a fighter, with unnatural teeth, cat like claws, and the unusual blessing of wings. Even if he had too much softness in his heart. “Indeed we do, we rest upon the shores of the Sea’s plain, alongside the Ashen Empire, our partner pack, which takes residence on the island chain closest to our territory.” he didn’t get into the nitty-gritty parts of politics. Deathbelle, Empress of the Ashen Empire, was a wolf he would always fight for. "Speech"

Empire, it was a word the Archer-Lyall was familiar with, though it was usually followed up with of Torbine any time she had heard the word mentioned before. That there were other dynasties shouldn’t have really been a surprise, but somehow, it was. Her mother may have shed the title of princess long before, but the thought that perhaps their companion had been some sort of prince had never crossed her mind. It mattered not, in the end she supposed. Beyond your own borders, you were just a wolf. She was just a wolf. For now.

That her heat might be coming upon her had never been a consideration, it wasn’t something she had had to endure yet, so the subtle signs were lost (though would have been evident to anyone who had seen recent events and thought to put two and two together). “It all sounds rather important doesn’t it? My grandmother came from an Empire too. Is it much different to any other pack?”

"Speech"

He drew in a breath as through to speak of important matters, and then laughed softly. “As much as it’s my inclination to say ‘no’ it's far grander, the truth is, it follows many of the same mechanics as the other packs on this land. It has leaders, and cogs in the wheel, hunters, gathers, healers. We boost some of the best fighters in the land, tried and tested, and perhaps one of the largest armies. Certainly, we are the only pack that shares such a close bond with another. My loyalty to the Empress of the Ashen Empire is strong.” He would admit to this newcomer. Of course, his reputation protected his charge - the Empress, so he was never afraid to show others his ability to fight - and throw them into the dust. But his hubris was partly feigned. A shield, to protect his childhood friend. “If only your grandmother hailed from such, what brought your mother away?” he would voice his next curiosity. Certainly, he was no longer a part of the original Empire. That had been the fault of famine, and the wolves tearing themselves apart. It had been his one and only goal at that time, to get Deathbelle to safety. Winning her freedom past those that would taste her blood had almost killed him. Certainly, for the following months, Deathbelle had thought him dead. "Speech"

It was easier to speak of her grandmother, for she had never actually met the woman, only heard great tales of her exploits. “Grandmother was a great healer and explorer. She left Torbine and came to the Wildwood, eventually founded a pack of her own where she had my mother. Ma led Grandmothers pack for a while, but she was a hot-head and clashed with some of the old timers, they were threatening to try and turn the pack against her. She bought in most of the ranks herself and knew they were full of piss and wind, but she’s a spiteful one. She took the ones she trusted and left them to rot. Ma’s more a Pirate than a Queen. She takes what she wants, and she didn’t want them. She built her own empire.” Despite her wounded pride, she couldn’t hide the admiration in her tone. “Her mate left her after my oldest siblings were born though, and she’d only claimed the land for him, so she bailed on that too. Eventually she landed at the Scowle and her and Celandine ran things tight, patched things up with my Aunt. I was born there, and spent a lot of time with what was left of Grandmother’s pack, my Aunt taught me healing, Ma taught me fighting.”

Thinking back on the brief summary she had given it dawned on her that maybe, her mother wouldn’t be mad at her for taking off like she had, after all, she was only doing what Morganna herself would have done. Her laugh came out half a sigh, slightly bitter on her tongue. “She’s not young anymore, I thought I’d challenge her for it, and she handed me my ass.” Her smile was wry, “Not that she made me leave, mind. I was just too proud to stick around after that.”

"Speech"

It seemed she came from a family of entrepreneurs, for leadership, not money. With a Grandmother that could found a pack, and a mother that could take the best parts of it for herself. He laughed softly, hearing how Sedna had tried to take it for herself. For some reason, hearing of her mother reminded him of Resin. That old woman was a proud fighter, and age never seemed to slow her down. She wasn’t as ambitious as Sedna’s family, more of a loner, in fact. She stuck around because her daughter had grown attached to the Armada. Perhaps she got sentimental in her old age. Sirius’s grin grew, for he wouldn’t be the one to tell her that. “So now you’re figuring out your own way in the world, eh?” he mused aloud, not quite a question. “If you're interested, there might be a spot for you in the Armada. I like an ambitious wolf, and there's plenty of opportunity to rise to power if you're willing to take it.” he suggested. The Armada was swelling in size, and he didn’t intend to invite many more wolves into his borders. However, he saw something he liked in Sedna. He wasn’t above plucking her from the rough and seeing what she could do. "Speech"

The woman hadn’t been expecting her honestly to earn her an offer of a place in a pack. Quite the opposite, honestly. She openly admitted to reaching to take things that hadn’t been designated as hers, but as he went on to explain how things were run, she found it fit much of what she was used to. It might suit her, if nobody was going to get butthurt by her reaching, then maybe she could really shine. But the Archer-Lyall wasn’t a solo package. “That’d depend...” She began carefully, “On if there were room for two. Sig’s only a yearling yet, but she learns fast. I’ve been teaching her some healing, pushing her stamina to see how far she might go. She’s got a nose for trouble, but the best scouts often do.”  Her eyes crinkled at the edges fondly remembering the girls first raid on a neighbouring pack that let their guard down. Sedna had been tasked with keeping an eye on her then too, and the pair had struck gold. She was young yet, but she had a lot of potential. Her Aunt wouldn’t vouch for her otherwise.

"Speech"

Her careful words earned her a nod. No, he would not expect her to part with her charge. The invitation had extended to Sigrun so automatically that he hadn’t even thought to mention it. “The Armada doubles as a school, and every wolf gets an education. We teach mostly the art of war, of course, but we have a very skilled healer she can learn from as well.” And all wolves must learn at least the basics in self defense. “You and Sigrun are both welcome in my ranks.” He concluded, seating himself against the cold stone floor. He had a strong feeling that Sedna would be a valuable wolf to have in his ranks. He would test her mettle as a fighter himself, and place her into the best programme to hone her skills. “Would your Sigrun be willing to learn to fight as well as to heal?” "Speech"

With his confirmation that Sig was welcome too, Sedna was ready to call it a done deal. When he asked if she would be willing to fight, Sedna nodded readily, “She already knows some. Ma wouldn’t let anyone get out of it with all the enemies she earned for herself.” Her lips were laced with a smirk, “She took it on herself to take over for Sig’s Da for the most part. Like all Archer men, Odin’s plenty pretty enough to look at, missing eye and all, but not a lot between the ears.” In fact, Vareth may have been next to the only exception to that rule, along with her Uncle Skoll.

Her mind made up, she rose to her feet, intent on formalising matters. Her head dipped respectfully as she moved to bump her nose to the underside of Sirius’s jaw in submission, her head tipping to expose her throat ever so slightly. It might have been an old way of doing things, but she hoped her intentions would be clear through her actions alone. As long as he’d have her, she was his now.

"Speech"

It seemed Sirius and her unnamed dame has thoughts that ran along a similar line. Teaching the young to defend themselves was a necessity. He snorted softly at her description of the minds of Archer men, and watched as she rose to her feet.

She bared her throat, submissive, to the Warlord. He let his elongayed fang run gently across her throat. So much so that it was barely enough pressure to part the fur, let alone do more then tickle her flesh. Her life was his now, his to protect. A possessive tingle ran through the Warlord. It was not the first time he has felt its claws in him. He could be a very possessive bastard under the right circumstances. He leanes back on his hunches once more, "call for Sigrun, then" he said, knowing Mort would follow. Best to let the Auntie call for the younger wolf, she didn't know of her new allegiance yet. "And I will show you both your new homes and let you get settled in" they would have the comforts of pack, with a warm den, furs, and a full belly.

Stepping back and allowing herself a shake now the formalities were taken care of, she nodded her ascent with a small smile. A low, short howl echoing off the walls of the castle to summon her niece from wherever she had wandered off to exploring. She could only hope the younger wolf hadn’t gone and gotten herself stuck somewhere the older woman would have to rescue her from, it would be a very embarrassing start to a new relationship if that was her introduction to Sirius after Sedna had been so gracious to talk her up. Stretching in readiness for the journey ahead, her tail waved lazily in indication to the younger wolf that all was well. The thundering of paws would betray their arrival. She could only hope they still had energy to spare.