The Finnvi had grown... bored by the monotony of just surviving. The world had gone stale and slow since she had claimed the young girl as a slave and triumphed in battle over the russet bitch. The white wraith of the forest had vanished, as had - disappointingly - the son with so much potential who looked so much like Katja herself. The Olympus woman had disappeared again long ago, and without adversity Katja felt like she herself was growing stale and slow. It was a disconcerting and infuriating feeling - Freya surely gazed at her with disappointment and disdain. She could not allow this to continue. Leaving Kapra with their growing band of outlaws, Katja set off on her own to train her body back to the rigorous standards she'd kept until coming to this soft, lackadaisical land. Her long, ceaseless journey to this strange land had hardened her body and increased her endurance, and the unfamiliarity of the land and its strange beasts had provided an element of danger to the journey itself that had given practice to reflexes and senses dulled by inactivity, but she wanted more. The gods demanded more of her. But what? What could they want of her here? ""

The search for Loki had been fruitless. Baldur's irritating older brother could have been anywhere for all they knew and the trail had long since gone cold. Somewhere along the way he'd separated for Thor only to find himself wander the path back into Alacrits. He sighed heavily… what on earth was he doing here again? He could feel Linneá's presence next to him, her head resting reassuringly across his shoulder blades. Looked like he was going to have to face the truth. If Loki didn't want to be found then there was no force on earth that was going to find him and it wasn't like Baldur was even that close to his wayward sibling. He missed Thor but… maybe it was time for him to move on away from his family. "What do you think Linneá? Should we give the lands of Alacritis another go?" Ice blue gaze turned to meet the sapphire eyes of his phantom lover. She smiled at him warmly and nodded. "You've been wandering for so long, maybe this place is meant to be your home. There is surely a reason the fates guided us back here." Baldur leaned over to nuzzle her and with a grin on his face he strode back into the lands he'd wandered for much of his young adult life. ___________________________________________________ Baldur had travelled for weeks, walking past the old familiar grounds into Southern Alacritis where the atmosphere felt fresh and new. Weaving through strange stones a shift in the wind brought a familiar scent to him. Baldur paused, working to process the scent. Katja? He dimly remembered his time as an Ebony wolf under the rule of the Drottning. The viking woman was stern but steady, a quality much needed when Baldur's life seemed to be constantly thrown into chaos. "Hallo, Katja!" he chirped as the viking woman came into view. "Korleis har du det?" Baldur grinned at the snippets of foreign tongue he'd picked up in his travels. The language wasn't completely foreign to him as many of the packs in his homeland had spoken it but it was the first time he'd really devoted himself to trying to understand it. "I apologize if my accent is a bit rough. I'm still learning."

She had seated herself before one of the strange stones, mercury eyes roving them, and her contemplation of the strange runestones excited some deep memory within her - a dim flicker of recognition, perhaps a genetic memory from far back in her lineage when man and wolf still vied for supremacy, before man had destroyed himself and left the world to the wolves. Was this what the gods had wished her to see? The sound of brush beneath paw alerted her and drew her attention, and her head swiveled to face the sound, her body tensing in readiness as the form stepped out into view. Her tail flicked in surprise. "Baldur?" she greeted with a healthy dose of caution. She had not expected to see him again after he'd left Ebony to join his family. And what was this? The norsk words chimed like familiar bells in her ears despite his still-rough treatment of it. It had been so long since she'd spoken her sister's language with any but Kapra. She would not have expected to be speaking it now with Baldur Hroovitnisson. "Jeg har det bra. Og du?" Her head cocked to the side. As much as she reveled in the chance to stretch her linguistic capability, as much as she missed the norsk tongue, she would not overload a beginner with too many unfamiliar words. And she had to wonder now... was it Baldur the gods had wished for her to find here, and not the stones at all? "It has been a long time since last the gods brought us together." ""

Katja had always been somewhat of a mysterious femme. Difficult to read but a strong and reassuring presence that had drawn Baldur to her as a leader. She turned to him in mild surprise much to his joy. He had no doubt that she hadn't expected to see him again, much like the family he'd left here in Alacritis. What turnings of fate had brought him back here? He wasn't sure but he was willing to find out. After all there was no force on earth that could find Loki if he did not wish to be found. It had become clear to Baldur in his travels that finding his wayward older brother was not his destiny. Katja replied to him in the new language and Baldur did his best to return her greeting.  "Eg har det bra, takk." He nodded.  "Indeed, it's been quite awhile. What brings you to this place? Seeking aspiration?"