Leaving home had been a bit heartbreaking. To know her aging mother and father would be left to their own devices when she and her siblings left, yet she knew that there could be coddling no longer. It was time to get out in the world and show them what she was made of. There was a code of course, following the Black tradition of codenames and such. But sometimes Bernedette cared little for these traditions. She was her own wolf, her own woman, and only those closest to her would have the honor of her true name. Whether they were family or not mattered little to her. Large head would lift, ears perked forward as she took her steps into the frozen North that was Alacritia. She didn't mind the cold, it suited her. The tougher the conditions the tougher the wolf in her eyes. She would let her bi-colored gaze wander, a certain thoughtfulness within those bright orbs. For the wolfess was far from stupid. No, she had a crafty, intelligent mind that was sharp and bright. Bernadette would give pause, breathing in deep a scent she had caught on the breeze once more. A pack. When she had dispersed from her family it was to find her place in the world. To find a pack to grow strong with and prove herself within. She wanted to work with others, but also show she could handle her own business when the time came. A smile would form on her lips, a knowing, sure thing. Though she couldn't know just yet if this pack would be right for her there was only one way to test the theory. She had to go to it and call for the alpha or alphess. Only then, and through time, could the woman see if it was a good fit. Bernadette would press on, drawing closer to the territory that Yfir held. She would pause respectfully away from the border, her bulky form remaining in a standing, ready position. Head would tilt back, her call sounding for the owner of the pack. It was time to talk business.

The sound of a howl calling for her from the border attracted her attention from her hunt, and after a moment of staring after the hare who had fled immediately as she shifted upon catching the sound, she made a note to ask Kapra to take a turn investigating some of these calls. He was, after all, the highest ranking wolf in the pack other than her, and she trusted him to be able to make choices such as that. For now, however, she turned her back on her failed hunt and made her way to the border. Her gaze took in the female standing respectfully back from the border, and she spoke simply, "You are upon the borders of Yfir, stranger. What is it you seek?"

A woman, cloaked in gray-black with silver ticking would approach her. The borders of Yfir, hmm? “I’m seeking a home, to put it simply. A home where formalities are not such a big thing, where the heat of battle is what judges a wolf, rather than the sniveling words of a weakling.” Bernadette’s mismatched gaze would not leave the silver hues of the other woman. “Put simply, my dear, I want a pack where I can be active, and that isn’t afraid to get it’s paws dirty. Is Yfir such a pack?” Or should she leave and keep searching? The woman was silent then, unwavering as she waited for the answer from the woman before her.

Katja listened silently as the black-coated yearling spoke, but when the child called her "my dear", Katja lifted her eyebrow in reproach. "Yfir is much of what you speak of. We do not seek the formalities of kingdoms and empires - we are raiders and vikings, not kings and lords. But we do demand a certain degree of respect... perhaps even greater than those of the bureaucracy." She paused to seat herself, eyes fixed upon the yearling as she considered how to word her response. She was not impressed with the yearling's choice of address, though the girl might not understand yet the distinction. "Age, gender, bloodlines... these have little bearing upon the opportunities here. But experience, trust, skill - they are of utmost importance. If you do not have the trust of those of the pack, you are a liability in battle. If you treat your packmates without respect they will not respect or trust you and that will put everyone at risk. If you believe you can do this... Yfir may indeed be for you."

Bernadette would arch a brow of her own as the woman began to continue. She had not necessarily used the word in a way of formality but simply as her own manner pf speaking. “Vikings... I’ve heard tale, but know little about the actual laws and ways of such fine warriors.” The young woman would choose her words a little more carefully now. “It sounds very much like the sort of place that I seek. If I may, what is the proper way to address you? As well as the proper way to go about becoming a member of Yfir, if I may?”

The girl's expression did not read as having been chastised, but she was being more... respectful of her wording and so Katja just watched her silently with a measuring gaze as she spoke. "There are many among our number who came to us not knowing our ways; it is not a fault as such unless one is unwilling to learn." She tilted her head to the side. "You can call me simply by my name, Katja. I have no need of more. You need pass no trials or rituals to join us, but you need be certain that it is what you wish, as we do not easily suffer fools or allow our members to turn their backs on us. We are warriors, and we will do many things which may disagree with the ways of wolves in these lands."

Bernadette would give a small nod as the woman spoke. There were many who came to Yfir, this pack, without knowing it’s ways. But if she was willing to learn, then perhaps she would fit in here just fine. The name given, Katja, was all the woman wished to be called by. There were no trials or rituals to join Yfir either, which Bernadette found a little puzzling until she understood the meaning behind Katja’s next words. It was easy enough to get in, and there was nothing but a hard way out. Near impossible more likely than not. Katja would go on to explain that they were warriors, and they would do things that the wolves in this land would not agree with. Bernadette would let a smile dance on her lips, and she’d speak softly. “Do not let my appearance fool you, Katja, I seek nothing short of being a warrior of that sort. The wolves in these lands are weak and soft. I will give you my fangs and claws, if you will have me. This is what I seek, for certain."

Katja inclined her head in acknowledgement of the youth's statement. The girl was fervent and determined, it seemed, traits many of Yfir's wolves currently lacked. Perhaps the youthful enthusiasm would inject the moodier of the wolves with a little... competitive spirit. They seemed far too inclined to brood rather than do, and perhaps having an ambitious young wolf seeking to prove herself would goad them into action as well. A bit of competition would be healthy for the pack. "You are welcome in Yfir, then. In time I am certain you will prove yourself as a capable warrior and earn your place among the pack's Hirdhmadhr or Thegn. What is your name, ungdom?"

Bernadette would give a small nod in thanks to Katja as she said that she was welcomed into Yfir. A home, at long last, had been sought out. In time it would be earned. At the question of what her name was, Bernadette spoke honestly in the way she had been introducing herself to all others. “Joker is my name.” The cross marked wolfess would offer a slight smile. “It has been all I’ve gone by in these lands, and no different here.” Surely Katja wouldn’t pry further, but even if she had it wouldn’t matter. Bernadette would not share her true name with just anyone. It had to be earned.