she wondered if she could bottle the sand here. Dutch sniffed along the beach, quietly marveling at the sand that looked so much like charcoal. with a huff, she'd sit her short body on the ground. she needed containers and satchels and a place to keep her various crafting items. too much was required to get started in this place. she only hoped the band would provide some of the items needed. the dwarf was eager to get started, wondering what she could craft first for the others. maybe some ivy necklaces. probably not weapons right now. she'd have to find metal and good, strong wood. she'd quietly contemplate where to begin gathering, and if she should have asked Valkyrie if she needed anything before Dutch had set off on her own. but maybe luck was on her side, for the scent of the one who recruited her was on the wind now. smirking, Dutch would turn to see her standing there. "it's hotter than a smithy here" she'd remark "what, you didn't like the cold anymore so you brought us here to sweat?" not that there was anything wrong with sweating. it gave a healthy glow. maybe the winter would be colder than she expected too. "need something, though?"

Quietly Valkyrie padded after Dutch. The woman was somewhere up ahead, likely somewhere close by. In all honesty Valkyrie didn't think the little woman could get anywhere quickly on those short little legs. Because of that belief her pace was languid. With her longer legs she would catch up in no time.

 

Ah, and there was the little devil. Dutch turned to face her and without so much as a hello began to decry the weather and her decision to bring the band here. Valkyrie took it in with a bemused expression before retorting wryly, "I thought you'd like a chance to complain about something new."

Did she need something? No, not really besides getting her curiosity satisfied. "I just wanted to see how you were settling in and if you'd found anything of interest here. Next season's blót will be upon us before we know it." And that meant they needed to have their wares prepared to trade. Valkyrie didn't know what the little tinkerer would come up with, but she herself still needed to come up with something. Captives, perhaps, but she wasn't sold on the idea just yet.

""

her small shoulders rolled. "I come from a long line of proud complainers, I'll have you know" Dutch replied airly, stating a fact about her dwarven folk. they tended to bitch and moan but do nothing about it. well, except brawling. that was their answer for everything. a good bar fight was easily done. bam, solved. but politics? forget about it. at least she was trying to do something different, no matter how angry her Ma had been when she found out she was leaving their little community. "there's just so much more to groan about on the surface. I don't know where to start." Valkyrie mentioned the strange Viking feast. their little sacrificial meal. her people didn't celebrate such things like the tall surface folk, but they did have similar deities. "you Vikings sure make a lot of excuses to eat" she'd chuckle in good humor "blot or not, I'm ready to stuff my belly after that long trek" she'd sigh, working her paws on the dark earth below her. Valkyrie had the sense to know their cultures were completely different, and also knew this feast was Dutch's first one. "lemme know if you need anything specific, and I'll make a list of ingredients. I could use someone to come with me, so I can carry twice as much back." someone... more versed in these lands than she was.

"Oi, oi, oi! Ladies!" Called a booming voice. Dagfinn had come a long way from home, but he'd go a lot further for Valkyrie. He just hoped that this new place was teeming with tasty vittles and some strange new strains of fungi; his research had to continue. The little tyke Valk had picked up before they left was a queer thing - smaller than anything he'd ever seen, but with a big, big mouth. She had grown on him on the journey and perhaps she'd be useful down the line, if she was truly a good crafter. Never could have enough of those.

"Stúlka, luv, slow down! M' fur is weighin' me down," Dag chuckled, shaking out his heavy ruff. He had always been stocky with plenty of extra bulk provided by his fur, and this summer heat was brutal. Was this Valkyrie's way of torturing him? He wouldn't put it past her.

Dag kept close to the shoreline, dipping his paws in the water as he went. He would need to find fresh water soon; his fur was plastered to his ribs in places from sweat. A nice swim and a long, cool drink would be heartily appreciated. "Let's get a bit o' meat and some water, já?" Dag pleaded, finally catching up to the other two. "I know you love my natural musk, but I could really use a swim."

For Dutch's benefit Valkyrie sighed exasperatedly at the mention of there being so much more to complain about on the surface. She was an odd little woman, but if as advertised she would serve the band well. Dutch also had a better sense of humor than most of the wolves she encountered since leaving home. Sure, Valkyrie found a funny creature or two, but none with the same penchant for dry, mocking humor like her people. None except Dutch who came pretty close.

 

"Not just to eat," she clarified. "But to put ourselves forward as respectable merchants and... " Damn her incomplete knowledge of Boreas' common tongue. She took a stab at what she meant and said it confidently. "Procurers. If we are to offload our spoils later we'll need a market for them."

Before she could even touch on specifics things Dutch could provide, a booming voice behind them brought Valkyrie's head around. Ah, Dagfinn. She'd wondered where he'd gotten off to. "If your fur is too much of a bother," she offered cheekily, "We can always shave you."

""

"buyers and sellers, eh?" or damn collectors, if you wanted to be more accurate. Dutch knew that in a new place, people tried to take souveniors of anything they could find. though what a Norseman thought was a pretty thing to be owned... well, they also had the ferocity to claim anything they wanted. she had an inkling that Valkyrie dealt with not just useful objects but useful people as well. slaves, prisoners... if she did, the dwarf was aware of the rumors that the surfacers were slavers. it wasn't a big shock. and she really didn't care. Dagfinn would appear next, his boisterous attitude earning a raised brow from the dwarf. "shavin' would be good. I could make something outta all that fur" her violet gaze turned to him as he complained too. rope could be woven. ropes that made for good accessory making. "then maybe we can roll ya in flowers so your musk doesn't offend me." her tone was totally joking and in good humor. if it was one thing she was used to, it was sweat. working and slaving all day making shit, your people were bound to sweat a lot. she'd rise from the earth, staring at the man. "well! I think, Valkyrie, that someone is offering to come with me to gather" Dutch added in, shooting the band's leader a smirk. "unless you can't spare this furball."

"You'd love to see what's under all this fur, you little minxes," Dag said, stopping to furiously scratch at his ears with his back paw. It was an ungainly, indelicate gesture that suited him to a tee. Why did they have to start here, on a forsaken beach during the hottest months of the year? "It's fine, it's fine, I know Valkyrie gets off on torturin' me," he grumbled, standing and shaking out his coat again.

The little dwarf girl was interesting. He was fond of her sass. Nothin' like a woman who could dish it out and take it. It made his poor, shriveled heart warm. With the three of them together, they were off to an interesting start in these new lands. "What didja call this place again?" He called to Valkyrie. He hadn't much cared for the details - once she had offered, he had quickly accepted without asking too many details. Dag trusted her not to lead him astray, especially since he was quite good at doing that all on his own.

"Gather smather, s'not where my talents lie but I'm happy to lend a paw to a woman in need," he said, giving her a gallant (and theatrically exaggerated) bow. Dag wasn't sure what the little woman specialized in yet, and helping her out might benefit the both of them. He was always on the hunt for strange new fungi and fruit.

With a mildly repulsed look meant to needle him Valkyrie watched as Dagfinn scratched at his ear. After a beat she quirked a brow at him then offered dryly, "My imagination says fleas and the rest of me would rather not find out." Her tone still dry, she responded to the assertion that she enjoyed torturing him. "You know me so well, Dag." To Dutch, she said slyly, "I think I can spare him, musk and all. He's yours."

 

"The whole of it," she said, answering Dagfinn's question, "Is Boreas. This particular patch that seems to be getting the better of you two whinging churls is called Obsidian Beach." She eyed the both of them to see if either would give her any lip.

It seemed they needed an explanation as to why she'd picked the south. Both had voiced their displeasure with the weather. "The south, which is where we are now, is the second most heavily populated region in Boreas. There are more packs here than in every place except the west, which, believe me, is hotter and drier than any place you've ever been."

She eyed Dagfinn with haughty amusement, then said, "Consider this a gentle introduction to Boreas, my dear. You might want to reconsider my offer of a shave; we're going to be here awhile." At least until the next gathering when she got the band together to decide where to head next.

""

it was best to just... go along with whatever a man said, uttering agreement just to spare both his manly feelings and time. but she wasn't about to let slip the most important parts. and she also wasn't the type to spare a man's ego. "you misunderstand" Dutch replied to Dagfinn, a scoff on her voice "I don't need you to gather. I just need you to carry whatever I find." because gods knew that Dagfinn didn't know what to look for. he'd be digging up everything he saw and deemed it useful. they'd be out in the heat all day if they did that. "wonder if the sand is good to work with..." the dwarf uttered instead, taking in the information of the land and the realm. she mostly uttered this to herself. wolves didn't breathe fire, but she could maybe find a controlled flame and make some black glass. it'd certainly be nice to sell. then again, with the humidity so high it'd be foolish to make a fire of any kind. things could burn down easily. "maybe we can braid your fur. do you want some pretty ribbons in your hair, Dags?" Dutch added to Valkyrie's teasing. but the band leader did say that Dagfinn was hers to boss around for a bit. this earned a smirk. "then let's find a place to set up nearby and I'll work my dwarf magic on you Vikings" she took a dramatic sniff of her nose "I can smell the potential. we'll be rollin' in trinkets by the time I'm done."

As Valkyrie explained her reasoning, Dag rolled his shoulders in an agreeable shrug. Populated meant plenty of pack wolves out on patrol and ample opportunity to snatch up some fresh captives for trading. That much he understood. But still, this blasted heat... He grunted and headed back to the water, wading up to his belly in the cool ocean. If he could wet himself down enough, maybe it would make the heat a hair more tolerable. He wallowed in the ocean water, frolicking about like a much younger wolf. "Alright, Boreas it is," he shouted, splashing gleefully in the water.

When Dutch mentioned braiding his fur, the male thought on it for a moment. It actually wasn't such a terrible idea - it might help to get some of the bulk off of his skin. He careened out of the ocean to Dutch's side, shaking off the water as he went. With his fur soaked to the skin the sun's rays were far more pleasant. "Alright, let's make a camp somewhere and I'll let you braid my gorgeous mane."

He headed past Valkyrie and Dutch and a short ways inland. There was a copse of scrubby trees with a clearing in the middle, surrounded by low, sloping dunes. Chuffed that he had located an excellent spot, Dag called for the other two. The ground was flat and level, save for a strange sand formation that reached towards the sky. It glittered slightly in the sunlight. He tilted his head to and fro as he examined it, unfamiliar with the phenomenon of lighting struck sand. It was a natural glass sculpture, but Dag couldn't imagine how he had gotten here. "Oi, Dutch, you know what this?" Storms had been raging across the coastlines since they had arrived - was that normal weather for this place?