Walk | Talk | Think

For having sought out this Yfir pack to join all on her own, Bera thought she was doing a very poor job of acclimating to her new environment. It felt as if much had passed without her showing her face, without her efforts being visible, and considering all that she wished to do here she knew it needed to change. There was no way she was going to become a skilled warrior if all she did was stick to herself doing the same things that she had always done as a rogue. It was high time she stepped up and started to actively take a part in her education, to begin her training in earnest so that she could be taken seriously by her peers.

It was for this reason that she had traveled from the Whisperer's Gorge to the Dancefloor, deciding the open space of the plain would suit her needs better than the quiet locale where she had secured a den. Officially a year old now, Bera hardly reflected the round, cutesy pup that she had once projected. Verging on her final height of thirty-five inches, she had completely grown from her pup stage into the lanky form of a yearling, paws large and always in the way, still in need of the mass that would eventually fill out her frame. She knew she was hardly anything to look at, and in truth she might have been less than what she wished to be, but she hoped too that the woman who had been deemed her instructor would see the potential in her that Bera could.

Stopping amid the grasses, turning her head left and right as she surveyed the mostly flat landscape, the brown yearling kept to her feet, the stumps of her ears swiveling in a vain attempt at listening to what was around her. Scent-wise, all she could presently detect were the telltale smells of Yfir, of her peers and pack mates, but which of those was the one that she needed to seek in particular? She did not know this Freyja, could not pick her out in a crowd, but today that was going to be fixed. Finished with her inspection of the place, Bera lifted her muzzle and issued a quiet howl, a summons for her instructor that she only knew by name. Hopefully the woman would arrive soon, and be glad that he pupil had decided to call to her first. Maybe it would make up for the lack of presence Bera so far had here.

Freyja sighed and rolled her eyes. This whole pack thing just... wasn't working out. It was nothing like she had once hoped, once dreamed about. It was bickering and petty subordinates and those damned uppity Olympians who never seemed to stop causing problems. Why couldn't they just... accept their weakness and move on? It was annoying to begin with, and she hadn't been able to hunt a damn one down and show them the gravity of their sins. But alas, there was not much to be done. Maybe I ought to just leave, she thought to herself with a scoff, but shook the thought away. None of this meant Katja was not a warrior worth falling, and she had been given a task. Up until that point she had been engaging in a failure all her own but neglecting to hunt down this young recluse. At least I didn't end up with one of the pups, she quipped. That would have had her over the damn border and into the sunset before Katja could say 'force claim.' So there she was, nose to the ground, doing her best to trace one of the only scents she hadn't paired with a face. A howl had sounded not long ago, a voice she didn't know... Well, putting two and two together her course seemed obvious. The girl, Bera... A name she knew. One of her countless siblings (if she remembered correctly, which was doubtful) shared the calling. A coincidence but nothing she would... she froze. Her quarry stood there in waiting, drab coat and nubbish ears and all too familiar... "Well, well, well," she chuckled. "What do we have here?" She smiled and sat back on her haunches, all too pleased with herself. "Talk" "You" Think

Walk | Talk | Think

The Bearcub and for the most part kept herself from fidgeting anxiously as she stood waiting for the arrival of the one who was going to instruct her lessons. There was no denying the little twinge of nervousness that coursed below her skin, but there was far too much eagerness, excitement, and determination for it to actually show through. Training to become a warrior was too important for her to allow herself to feel anything but those feelings that would benefit her in the end. Either she was going to make it and succeed or she was not, and worrying over the details of it was going to get her nowhere.

But thankfully her wait, however forcefully patient it was, was drawn to an end as a pale colored woman appeared against the grassy landscape, seemingly headed Bera's way. Automatically the brown girl straightened up, tried to make herself look more presentable, look more serious, and wished there was more she could have done for her lankiness and awkward yearling proportion. With time she would eventually fill out but now, when she wanted to look the part as well as play the part well, she found herself to be a less impressive warrior than she wanted.

As the woman came closer and the green-eyed youth could more easily see her features and pattern, Bera felt a strange sense of familiarity. It was weird - she was mostly sure she had never met with any others who were a part of Yfir, now or before joining, but the closer her instructor drew the more familiar she started to see her as. Her bright eyes sort of narrowed and her nose scrunched up a little as a pondering look settled over her, her ear-less head leaning just slightly to her left. Her instructor spoke, smiled, and suddenly Bera made a connection. But was it right? "You're Freyja?" she asked, voice reflecting the perplexing feelings she was currently experiencing. Could this really be the same Freyja from her childhood, the fuzzy memory that she was trying to bring into focus?

Bera seemed uncertain, and for a moment Freyja's own confidence wavered. Perhaps she was mistaken, perhaps this was not the sister she'd known in her youth... But no. There in her cheekbones, in the set of her shoulders, and in what remained of her ears. The blood was evident. "That's the best greeting you can think of for your long-lost sister? I have half a mind to be offended!" She chuckled and walked in a slow circle around Bera, taking in every angle. She looked well. Bound to be a large woman, especially if she had any growing left to do. A fine warrior, and a proud recipient of their father's blood. Well, looks like you got this one right Father, she thought with a sarcastic bite. At least Freyja still had her looks. "You look well, Bera." Of course, it would be mortifying if she was mistaken but she would cross that creek when she came to it. And what a strike of luck that she would be assigned to this young fae for training. Thoughts ran rampant through her mind, planning this and assessing that. She would have to determine where Bera stood, what she had learned prior to joining Yfir, and what had befallen her since Freyja had seen her last. "Talk" "You" Think

Walk | Talk | Think

She might have felt a little unsure, but Freyja certainly did not. She greeted the brown girl with the same sort of rough affection that Bera almost remembered, and though she was still piecing it all together she smiled. Freyja. Another face from home. It felt like ages since she had seen her, since she had been around any of those that she remembered from her birth pack. A year she had been away, and it felt like a lifetime. All those memories were blurred, faded, some even set aside as what she found now was suddenly better than where she had been before. But they still lingered, just a little more fuzzy than before.

For some reason her memory of Freyja did not quite match up with the Freyja who walked around inspecting her now. Bera followed her progression with her eyes, her ears somewhat useless in their ability to hone in on sounds, and wondered how strange it was that the older wolf suddenly did not seem nearly as large as she recalled her being. Was that because Bera had grown too? She did not quite remember the exact shades of her sister's coat, but the pattern was still recognizable after a little thought. Yes, this was Freyja, her sister. The world was much smaller than she had ever thought it was.

A small positive phrase was offered, and though it was only slight Bearcub took it with pride. She had been doing her best to keep herself up, not just simply in shape but in good health too. Finding decent and plentiful game as a rogue was slightly more tricky than it was for pack wolves, but she seemed to have been managing well enough. Surely it was all because of her brother's training, his adamant rule that they learn the basics of taking care of themselves. "You do too, Freyja," Bera responded with a smile, her tail beginning to wag, "I didn't realize you were in Yfir too," she admitted, "not even when I heard your name." She had only seen so many family members lately, it had seemed unlikely until now that her instructor, who shared a name with her sister, could possibly be the same wolf.

Freyja could not remember feeling quite this happy. She had been so grumpy for so long, and now it would seem that seeing her sister had lifted a burden from her shoulders. Her family, her kin, there with her. A part of the golden woman's alliance would shift, bonding her closer to the young girl who stood before her. Freyja smiled gently, which seemed an odd thing after so long. I met Katja not long ago, but she seemed a noble woman. Good warrior, good leader, all that. so I joined up. For a moment she wavered, wondering how much she might share with her sibling. If I'm being honest, she said at last. I have not been terribly impressed. Perhaps pack life isn't for me. Of course, with Bera there she had been granted an excellent reason to stay around. For now, she decided, where the young one went so too would she. Freyja turned, looking out over the landscape around them. The western hills rolled on, tinted brown in all the glory of autumn. She wondered what a western winter would bring. There was no shortage of food here, and it was not so cold as other land's shed found herself in. Perhaps she ought to stay a while long, until the spring at least. Perhaps she would even be able to convince Bera to come along... Of course, nothing would happen without Katja's knowledge. Freyja was not without honor, she would not leave the woman in the dark. But that was a conversation for another time. Turning back to the youngling she tilted her head. So what training have you had? It seemed as good a place to start as any.