(OOC: direct continuation of the other thread but don't want to wait for the spar and the judging so skipping over the spar part and any "good show old chap"s between Esti and Katja and going straight to after Esti has left.)

The fight over, Katja turned to the two young wolves once again. She reveled in the aftermath of battle, in the pull of muscles and the ache of wounds. "Jeg beklager," she spoke, the cool calm of her voice once more restored. Battle had a way of making everything once more straightforward, the way forward always so much more clear when you had to depend on training and logic rather than the subtleties of emotion and sentiment. She could look on them now and not see Auora in the male, and herself in the female. She could see two young nordmenn, strangers, raised in a different culture than that of Alacratia. It was a difficult realization to make, difficult to adjust to. She herself had rejected the soft social conventions of this place. Would they, too? she wondered. Or would they choose to integrate into Alacratia's culture? They held no pack scent upon them - perhaps she could prevail upon them to join Yfir.

"Du er norsk, ja? Kan jeg spørre hva som bringer deg så langt fra hjem?" She did not bring up Auora again, for there were many wolves who resembled Auora to a greater or lesser degree - even Sigmarr had looked remarkably similar, and he was in no way related - though she was curious about what had prompted the gods to place this pair in her path now.

LORD, I AM CLIMBING HIGH MOUNTAINS TRYING TO GET HOME Trying to get home...   Lyndvarr restrained himself from calling out during the battle, even though he'd been crouched on his toes, leaning forward, completely enraptured as he watched the women duel.  Katja lived up to his mother's stories and he felt a new found respect for the woman building in his chest.  She apologized and Lyndvarr shook his head. "Det er greit.  Jeg likte å se deg kjempe. Hvis du liker kan jeg pleier å sårene dine" Lynd nodded. "Ja det er vi. Vi søker etter vår mor , Auora og vår tante Katja . Vi er gamle nok til å være på vår egen og vår vaktmester , Inga ... hun har hatt visjoner …"  His voice trailed off at the memory of the warnings and the visions and of his mother's last words before she left.  Deep in his heart he guessed the answer to the question that had been hanging over his head but he was still a child in some respects and he still clung to hope.  "Er du Katja?"

LÆRKE FINNVI Their chance meeting had sparked in Lærke an excitement the young girl she was unaccustomed to... which immediately made her a bit suspicious. This was too easy, or at least it seemed that way. Granted, she and her brother had been searching for quite some time and to never discover their mother or aunt would really put a damper on things. As such she was left in this uneasy middle ground, where she was too hopeful to entirely give this dark fae up as their aunt and too pessimistic to put much stock in her. At the very least, she seemed a good wolf to know in these parts. Lærke immediately admired her level-headed nature and the way she handled herself in combat. She would stay quiet as Lyndvarr talked, not one to speak unless it were absolutely necessary. She eyed the woman with her glacial gaze, and choking down a laugh. Their mother had always commented on how much she looked like her sister, and if this was in fact the same Katja, well... Perhaps at last Lærke could understand. "Talk" "You" Think