Blood had been spilled. It had been some time now since the sacrifice, but he relived the events nightly in his dreams. Thick, crimson-red blood, sent cascading over the stones below, staining his cousin?s muzzle and painting a beautiful scene of sacrifice and devotion. The gods were pleased, and he felt their contentment resonate deep within his soul.


The entire thing had been so beautiful. He had watched unblinkingly as Katja swiftly tore our Auora?s throat in one clean, concise motion. Blood had instantly begun to pour and he had watched in obvious amusement at the horror and shock that spread among the wolves that had decided to attend the festival. It had not been a murder and yet some had reacted as though it was just that. Most of his attention had been on his cousins -- adoration gleaming in his eyes at the selfless sacrifice Auora had made for them all, and admiration for the bravery it had taken Katja to take the life of her own sister. She had not done it easily, but there was no regret written on her masked features.


The reaction of one in particular had bothered him. A man with a brown coat and yellow eyes, who had stood and questioned what Katja had done with fury. He had been so self-righteous and so ignorant at the same time. ?Think about all the beauty that could have been. All the potential that was just thrown away and tell me what about this isn't shameful!? Irritation had quickly grown to fury as he watched a fight unfold. Though Kapra was typically aroused by the promise of bloodshed, excited by pain and suffering -- this was not the time for such things. He?d felt his lips quivering, unfurling to reveal stained fangs beneath, a strange sort of anger bubbling up from within his chest.


But he would not let his day be ruined. He had fled the scene quickly after the deed was done, but not before placing a tender kiss to the side of Auora?s throat, tongue barely catching a hint of the sacred blood that had flowed from her torn throat.


Where would he go now?


His steps were aimless as he trailed away from the place where the festival had been held. The gods would guide him, he was sure of it. He wasn?t sure how long it was that he wandered, with no goal or purpose, before the storms began. A loud crack of thunder sounded somewhere in the distance, the loud clang of Thor?s hammer against the earth itself, resonating across the lands. The rain began soon after, lightning springing up across the horizon. The gods were celebrating! They were pleased at the offering Katja and Auora had presented them with and they wanted the world to know. The brute felt a bit of laughter bubbling up from his chest. He would head further west, leaving the chaos that threatened to engulf the land in the midst of their jovial celebration, and toward even more unfamiliar lands.


As he journeyed west, something incredible happened. His cousin?s scent was here. It was faint, but fresh, a sure sign she had traveled this way. As always, he would attribute this luck to the gods, quietly thanking them for the sign he had needed.

Katja hadn?t taken especially well to his presence, the few times he had reunited with her. Part of him knew why, but the elephant in the room would remain, simply pushed aside for discussion in the future. Truly though, there was no use bringing up Jaeger any time soon. He hadn?t seen his brother in over a year now, and though he missed him terribly, he knew one day he would see him again.


It was with fervor that he tracked her scent, thankful that the weather was much more temperate here than in the east. He would avoid the worst of the storms, his cousin's scent growing stronger with each hour that passed. Once near - he was surprised that these lands smelled as though they had been claimed by her - he would tilt his head to the sky, letting a haunting howl spill from his throat. The gods had done something great, he was certain of it, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it all.

A howl, familiar from her youth but unheard in so very long, summoned her from her canvasing of the new land. She'd been searching for a more sheltered place to sleep but short of burrowing in the earth like a mole the flat plain left little in the way of shelter. She was satisfied with the area as a hunting land, but perhaps it might already be time to expand their territory into someplace more sheltered... But the call made the fur over her spine prickle and she stopped in her tracks. Kapras?us? Her cousin was alive, and here? Or was this some trick of Loki's? She had been so convinced she was the last of the Finnvi family left in all of this land when Kapra disappeared after Auora's death, yet here he was calling at the edge of her new territory. It hadn't been the first time Kapra had disappeared only to pop up again unexpectedly, though, so perhaps this should not have been unexpected. She immediately moved to meet her cousin, tipping her muzzle to him in a serious greeting. "Kapra," she murmured. "Ich h?tte nicht gedacht, um Ihnen so bald wieder zu sehen. Willkommen auf Yfir, vetter." ""

Kapras?us had admittedly calmed significantly since the unfortunate -- and, in many ways, very predictable -- disappearance of his brother. Neither of them were known for being particularly dependable, often leaving on a mere whim, only to resurface again without warning. He would blame the fickle gods on his known flightiness, letting his paws often carry him whenever they pleased. Today, they had brought him to Katja, though his own senses had helped significantly. It seemed the gods had shone brightly upon her, and Kapra found a wicked grin toying with the corners of his lips. A mischievous sort of gleam would sparkle in his emerald gaze, interest visible on his pallid features. Tentatively he would move forward, his lame hind paw dragging against the earth, only a slight limp to his step. His gaze swept over her quickly, noting her battle-worn state, wondering what had happened; even more, he wondered how he opponent looked if she still stood here to greet him.


Her seriousness was something he had expected, but he found himself letting a low chuckle escape his throat as she greeted him so formally. His cousins had never been outwardly fond of either him or Jaeger; not since they were small children, when Einvir and sweet Freyleif had walked the earth with them, had they showed much of any affection toward him. "Katja," he greeted her, baritone voice laced with exultation. "Yfir?" he would repeat, head cocking slightly to the side. These lands -- had she claimed them as her own?


His expression contorted slightly for a moment, puzzlement working its way across his features before he broke into a wide grin. He was an open book, his emotions worn plainly for all to see -- and he began to laugh again, a hoarse sound that was brimming with entertainment and gratitude. "Die G?tter sind gut, mein lieber Vetter," he would begin, his own head dipping in something akin to respect. "Sagen Sie mir -- haben Sie dieses Land in der Schlacht zu nehmen?" An eyebrow would raise as he watched her features for a reaction, that playful smirk still tugging at a single corner of his mouth. If it was true, he could only imagine how pleased the gods were with the Finnvi family; perhaps it would explain the storms that brewed to the east, an obvious sign of their celebration.

Her cousin's half-crazed playfulness had always made her vaguely uneasy, but something had changed. Perhaps it was that he'd calmed somewhat, simply coming across as a bit scattered rather than creepy, or perhaps it was that - with Kapra's mother and younger sister having vanished together, Jaeger having disappeared into thin air, Auora's death, and their marauding family pack only the gods knew where - they could very well be the last two Finnvi wolves left. Whatever the reason, Katja found herself much more agreeable to Kapra than was her usual wont. "Die G?tter sprachen mich auf dem bl?t," she murmured, her voice touched once more by the intensity of awe that had filled her that night, a hint of the ecstasy of being granted such honor. Of all wolves she could trust Kapras?us to understand that feeling, the lone believers in a land of heretics. "Sie sagten mir, dass die Familie Finnvi m?ssen steigen, um an diesem Ort herrschen. Dass wir zu Gro?em bestimmt. So k?mpfte ich wie ein wahrer Ministrant w?rde. Freyja und Tyr waren mit mir und ich durchgesetzt." Her voice was sharply intent, intensely serious as she spoke. Her chin raised in pride as her gaze remained locked to his. "Rache und Ehre, Vetter. Die Finnvi Name wird lange an diesem Ort erinnert." ""

There was an obvious mania that lurked below the surface of his facade; a sort of unwarranted exuberance that was so intense it almost seemed like an act at times. Even now his eyes would gleam with passion and fire, a shimmering amusement bubbling from within his emerald gaze as he watched his cousin speak. Katja was much calmer this time than during their last encounter, and he knew that things far larger than either of them were happening. 'The gods spoke to me at the bl?t,' she would explain, and his eyes widened with interest. His own experience there had not been quite so mystical, but he shared her feelings of devotion and faith. Though they differed quite a bit, their religion would be the one thing that shared and that kept them together. He had yet to meet another in the land who shared their views -- in fact, most condemned them. Still, he scorned the male that had so brazenly insulted the sacrifice that they had made at Ebony's festival. He knew Auora would've seen his disrespect from the afterlife and he knew the male ought to have been thankful he hadn't spoken up before she'd left this earth. Surely then he wouldn't have been left intact.


They had told Katja that the Finnvi family would rule here. They had aided her in battle. As she spoke, he would inch closer, a smirk tugging at both corners of his mouth, glee bubbling over as he began to laugh jovially. They had, somehow, made things right with the gods and now they would begin to prosper. "Ich werde euch helfen und Yfir, Vetter," he would offer his support quickly. "Ich werde dich in den Tod verteidigen." It was, perhaps, one of the few things he would fight for. Though he and Katja had never seen eye to eye, the fact that they could quite possibly be the only Finnvi wolves left in these lands was a terrifying prospect. Another laugh would escape suddenly from his throat, his tail whipping behind him suddenly as pleasure seemed to emanate through him. Though he craved Jaeger's touch, something he had been deprived of for so long now, he could not imagine going anywhere else. Katja had been spoke to directly by the gods and he would not ignore such obvious signs.



Perhaps it would be their time to shine. He wondered if the gods were acting through Katja herself, wanting the believers to rule and to spread the influence of their faith through all of the lands. His head would cock to the left as he eyed her, curiosity bubbling up in the form of a quiet question. "Was sind Ihre Pl?ne f?r Yfir?" Regardless, he felt a pull to Katja and to this pack she had won in battle, and he would be willing to support her cause so long as she did not stray from her faith -- as if such a thing would ever be possible for the steadfast woman.

Kapra pledged his support for Yfir, his life to protect her, and Katja's heart was eased. This was family, this was what it was meant to be, what everything had been for. Auora had given herself in sacrifice for family, Katja had put her life at risk wresting a pack for them, and it was all worth it. The Finnvi family was coming together once more and they would rise. "Sie werden willkommen sein, Vetter," she answered lowly, "und Sie werden dort geehrt werden." He questioned her plans for Yfir's future, and her gaze raised to star off into the sky above her as she attempted to put to words the nebulous thoughts and plans she had. "Mein Ziel ist es, neu zu bauen, was wir verloren," she spoke slowly. "zu sammeln und neu zu erstellen unsere Familie in diesem neuen Land. Es ist reich und reif, und es gibt hier so wenige in der Lage, es zu verteidigen. Kapra - Sie k?nnen nicht wissen, unsere G?tter, aber sie werden von uns wissen. Wir werden Ruhm und Reichtum auf den Namen Finnvi hierher zu bringen." And when they fell it would be in glorious battle and they would join their family in Valhalla, as was meant to be. ""

A new fire seemed to gleam in his vibrant emerald gaze as she gladly accepted his offer of support. Despite everything, she was willing to suspend her hatred of his brother and her own wariness about his character for the sake of this pack and their family. His smirk would grow, a bit of deviousness evident in his expression, as he eyed her unblinkingly. Even if things did not work out here, Yfir needed to exist now, and he would die to defend it -- for what was death, if not for a new beginning? He began to laugh at her words, giddy with excitement at the new direction that his life had suddenly begun to talk. "Ich bin so froh, dass dieser," he explained quickly. "Ich habe genug von wandernden gewachsen. Die W?lfe in diesem Land sind die Ketzer, Katja. "


And this was their answer to the nonbelievers. He watched as she spoke, his grin growing at her words. They would bring honor to the Finnvi family and ensure their place in Valhalla, alongside Auora and their deceased kin. Oh, how he longed to see Einvir and Freyleif again, to dance in the stars with them for all eternity. And if even one wolf was let in to see the truth of their gods, of the Aesir and the Vanir, he would consider it a job well done. "Zu unserer Familie," he began, dipping his head deeply. "Und unsere G?tter." With a sweeping bow of his head he would turn to depart into the lands of Yfir, grateful he had been led to Katja once again.