Astrid stood atop a dry ridge, scowling down into the depression below. How hard could it be to find one band of roving idiots? She'd be gone long enough, it was time to check back in and make sure everyone was, ya know, alive. She'd come across Aksel by sheer luck, and it had sparked this damned curiosity and now... she sighed. At least it was a bit warmer here, if nothing else. Winter was hot on her heels, and she would do what she could to escape it's grasp. The young fae was in no hurry to return to the northeastern parts of the realm, and so in all honesty was not in the biggest hurry to find her kin. Should've dragged my brat of a brother along with me, she mused. At least then I wouldn't be bored. Up until that point she hadn't been able to find her family or even some herbalist to teach her a thing or two. She would have settled for either. She eyed one of the nearby low-growing spiky trees with distrust. She had done what she could with the parts of the plant that were salvageable, grinding and smashing them, scenting them and leaving them in wait to see if the local fauna would sample them, all to no avail. As of now, they were a mystery, and the frustrating one at that. She groaned, starting to get pissed, and starting to wonder what the hell was she even doing there anyways.

Baldur skidded down the dunes, ebony paws nearly folding under him several times as he struggled to run on shaky limbs. He found himself gasping for air before a cry of pain brought him down to his belly on the sand as his left forelimb gave out. The ankle was badly sprained and swollen but at least he'd managed to help her escape. Eyes squeezed tightly shut as he worked to control the pain. When Sindri had been kidnapped and Sigmarr disappeared Baldur had gone to look for them only to be ensnared and forced to fight by the Desanka, a strange, ferocious group of slave traders. Through carefully laid plans he'd assisted in his daughters escape but as he feared the Desanka seemed to be tracking her rather than him. Dammit?.


Eyes still closed Baldur prayed, he didn't know to what, but if anyone was listening he prayed that she'd be safe and that she'd get away from those monsters. The wind whistled softly through the wash but Baldur couldn't bring himself to stand. Not only had he been captured and used? Linne? Linne? had fallen silent. He'd woken one morning and she was gone, nowhere to be seen. It was enough to make him want to give up but no? no he had to make sure Sindri and the others were ok and surely there would be a way to find Linne? again. Some way to reconnect with her.


Baldur tried to get to his feet only to fall once again. No, he was done. He couldn't move another inch, not without some rest. The large male curled himself into a ball, tail draping across his face to help filter out any sand before he attempted to get some rest.


"Speech"

A faint sound, that of crashing and general ruckus, fell upon her ears. With narrowed brows Astrid turned into the wind, trying to locate the source of it all. What on earth? She sighed, shoulders sagging under the weight of her curiosity, and turned her paws due north. Two measly hills stood between herself and her quarry, and she traversed them at an easy lope. While she would crane her neck hesitantly, hoping to catch sight of whatever might lay before her before it saw her, as soon as she discovered her uncle's decrepit body she would rush headlong down the rest of the slope. "Uncle Baldur!" she gasped. "What on earth happened to you?" Astrid had not seem him for quite some time, but her memory was sharp. It would take more than a few wayward seasons to wash his pelt, build, and markings from her mind. He was thin, painfully so, and adorned with new scars. Why lay about in the middle of the day, was he sick? Certainly malnourished, but beyond that she could tell very little. And curse it all, she knew next to nothing about the herbs in this area and what they might do. She let out a hiss of frustration and scanned the horizon, but whether she searched for help for for danger she couldn't say. Of all the rotten luck, and curse the gods along with it. Their morbid sense of humor was wearing on her... "Talk" "You" Think