the end is the beginning is the end

pls forgive the rust, I haven't roleplayed in forever ;;

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She woke on her side, gasping hard, in the belly of a shadowy ravine. Bare black cliff walls loomed beside her. Gray, low-slung clouds snaked overhead. Where was she? She twisted onto her stomach, carving furrows in the snow—and froze. An ache exploded and rolled through her like thunder, welling up from her ribs, clunking around inside her chest; she caught her breath and held it tight.
 
The pain passed, after a while, and she staggered to her feet. A dirty, bedraggled creature she was, her long fur tangled and soaked in snow. Hackled and wide-eyed, she glanced back over her shoulder, remembering it all in flashes. She stared at the craggy rim of the ravine above. At nothing.
 
She whined softly before she could help herself. Swallowed the sound like bile, and reeled away. She lurched forward. Stumbled and plowed her way through the ravine, pushed by currents of misty air, scattering snowflakes ahead of herself like sparks. The wind made mournful sounds through the rocks.
 
Gods, it was cold. She didn’t remember it being so cold when she left.
 
The bare black walls reduced themselves alongside her, and soon the ravine leveled out to a wide tundra of heather and permafrost and a silver-blue horizon where metallic swathes of cloud drifted like the hulls of many longships.
 
Oksana hunched into herself, mirroring the sinking sensation in her gut. She didn’t remember this place, either; had she really run so far beyond Sievrosk? So far from home?
 
Even as her mind touched the thought, she jolted away from it. She pitched forward, mindlessly plunging into that wide, brimming unknown as if there was no other way to go, as if she knew she could not go back, the very same way a castaway finally stumbles from the sea. Breathing deep and hard into the dull ache in her ribs, she strained away from thought itself. But all the while, the gray fog-laden clouds rolled on like omens over her head.

However far she'd come, she'd not gone far enough.
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Totally gorgeous post!

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 The grey morning met her with an anxious air. Valmúa could not stop thinking about what @Kuhn had said to her. She wondered if he would seek to fulfill his needs elsewhere, with someone like @Agrona or @Saikhanzaya. The world seemed full of tigress bachelorettes that he surely would be happier with. Her mind remained in a bad place, and she wandered out of Northfall for the first time in some time.
 Her wounds were healing nicely. The wound on her neck was no longer obviously visible, so thick was the fur surrounding it. The area at her hip was worse, being constantly stretched and pulled by her own movements. It was showing pink, now. Healthy, but still yet with a fair bit of healing to do. Occasionally, it oozed.
 Valmúa had been trying to head north toward Mordfjall, or what she assumed was left of it. Something had happened to it that she had assumed had been hazy views, but the closer she drew, the more obvious that the mountain was no longer there.
 Her journey across the Tundra led her to a curious state. She should have ignored it, but against her better judgment, she did not.
 It was a girl. A yearling, stumbling and looking confused was lost about the sea of frozen earth. Valmúa, an obvious target of red, drew closer and stood a distance from the young wolf. “Are you lost?” The question was asked bluntly. There was no tone of pity or even concern in her voice; it was merely an offer that the youngster could take or leave. She had places to be.

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thank you! <3

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In came a stranger, striking as a comet in the desolate tundra, a flare of red against the gray; and Oksana froze again, tense as wire, bracing for impact. The hair of her nape stood on end. Her jaws clenched so hard that her teeth hurt. Her eyes darted to and fro, skimming but never quite meeting the stranger’s own. One wrong move and she’d snap.

She almost jumped at the sound of the woman’s voice. Her heart, at least, skipped a beat.

Oksana didn’t answer right away; she dithered for a moment, too wary to answer honestly and too scared she might say the wrong thing—until she noticed the conspicuous pink seal on the older wolf’s hip. An injury.

The girl shifted her weight slowly and took a new, cautiously open-minded look at the woman. 

She nodded. Hesitantly, at first, then with more confidence. "Help me—please. I…" She faltered, sheepish but obviously desperate enough to hope for aid. "I don’t know where to go."

She’d never felt so vulnerable or exposed in her entire life. Never so lost. Never so at the mercy of others. Oksana couldn’t help but wish, vainly, that there could be some unspoken understanding, some promise, between them. I won’t take advantage of your weakness if you don’t take advantage of mine.

Not, of course, that Oksana could have posed much of a threat at the moment, even if she wanted to.
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 It did not take clairvoyance to see that the girl was stressed. Valmúa looked upon her, finding a strange familiarity to the nature of her coat and build. The softness of her fair face spoke of both youth and of history — she reminded her of @Sindri, and of her own kin.
 The girl was quick to ask for help, respectfully not making eye contact even as the red woman's harsh gaze fell upon her with little but impatience. Valmúa did not soften, looking over the slender yearling, thinking she looked exactly like the kind of girl @Stjörnuáti would bring back with him.
 Gathering a great inhale, the firebrand looked out across the Tundra to its centre, where the mountain her brothers had been was standing not one month ago. She said nothing, but her look was pensive, concerned. There were no longer peaks on that horizon save for the outreaches of Tsukiishi. She had wanted to go there to see what had happened, but here was a girl asking for help standing between her and a burning need to look upon her once-homeland.
 At length, Valmúa softened, heaving a great sigh. “Do not worry,” she answered, looking back to where she had come.
 The distance between where they were standing and Northfall was great enough that the northerner would be able to determine if the yearling was a spy, or worth saving. They were at war with the Isles. She did not trust anyone.
 “It is common to not know in this place. I will help you get your bearings. I am Valmúa, of Northfall. I know this land,” she explained, taking a few, slow steps forward and sideways in offer of guidance.
 She did not like to play babysitter or guide, but the girl might be of some use once she got over her panic.

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With all the restless, suspicious energy of a wild thing, Oksana observed and shivered nervously. A breeze kicked at her shoulders, neither warm nor sweet. The sagging gray clouds scuttled lower in the sky. Her hooded eyes fluttered slyly beneath their lashes, clapping upon every movement the stranger-woman made, desperate to read them.

All Oksana could tell was that she seemed harsh and discerning, and she probably didn’t suffer fools lightly. She weighed Oksana’s plea against her own plans as though she were a stern mother, and Oksana a demanding child. She reminded Oksana of her father’s people.

But there was hope. Bolstered by the firebrand’s reassurance, Oksana loosed a shaky sigh. The peculiar comment about ‘this place’ flew over her head. All she knew for certain was that she’d never heard of Northfall, so she thought must have run very far from her home indeed. Perhaps all the way into her father’s native land, or maybe the country of her uncle. The truth was very far from her mind.

"I’m Oksana of S-Sievrosk." Her voice wavered as she spoke the name. Her face pinched in a faint scowl. Her eyes pricked sharply, and an unspeakable sadness curled deep into the corners of her mouth. She turned her face away as her breath hitched in her throat.

Little by little, then all at once, the tension bled out of her. Her shoulders sagged, her neck bent. When she faced forward again, she wore a wooden expression, and a distant look had come into her eyes. But the look she sent Valmúa was full of gratitude, and she teetered to the redhead's side, tired and unguarded—a wild thing no longer. Oksana didn’t care where Valmúa might guide her, as long as it was away from here.

"Thank you," she murmured.
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 Valmúa regarded the girl carefully, watching her anxious expressions and feeling but apathy. The fire woman was an impatient animal. It was rare that she stopped what she was doing to help anyone, even a young girl in need. Oksana had a strength about her, though. Perhaps it was in her name or the homeland she'd spoken of. Whatever the case, the woman of Northfall suspected that this scared little girl was not the only face she had.
 In fact, the girl's expression changed. She became stone-faced and strangely cold. It reminded her of her brothers, the way they always lacked emotion whenever they felt fear or disaster looming.
 The red warrior didn't acknowledge her gratitude. Instead, she pressed further. “Tell me of Sievrosk,” she demanded.
 The easiest way to tell anything about someone was for them to explain their origins. It detailed how they grew up, what was most important to their family, and perhaps even what they culturally might value. These were the things that Valmúa cared about. As a bonus, talking of her homeland might even bring comfort to the girl.
 They walked together over what seemed a cold wasteland, passing great swaths of frozen terrain. Shrubs and bits of greenery were strewn about, but much of it was wide and open, apparently without life. The trail from here to Northfall was not long, thankfully.

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"It's small," she said in a monotone voice, after a long moment of silence. "Nothing ever happens there."

She'd always said as much to the travelers who came by, and to her best friend, and to her brothers, and her parents. A complaint she'd rehearsed ad nauseam, spoiled by romantic tales of far-off places. Especially stories of her mother's homeland, for which she longed but was destined never to see.

Now the world passed in a blur. Oksana couldn't feel the ground anymore. Her legs moved mechanically, weary and graceless. She no longer had to think about where she was going, with Valmúa as her guide. Austere and humorless though she was, even the north woman's hard character resembled kindness. Oksana wracked her brain for a better answer.

"It's ruled- was ruled by my father." A cold black terror clutched at her diaphragm. She swallowed. "We were good. And fair. And peaceful. I hated it. Gods." 

She scoffed to herself, and, after a beat, admitted, "It's... gone. Sievrosk is gone." Oksana didn't look at Valmúa, then. Not even in her periphery. She felt vile just saying it aloud; resentful. And she hated Valmúa for just an instant for demanding to know anything of Sievrosk. Anything. As if Valmúa's inquisition had been purposefully cruel. For all the bitterness and rage in her heart, however, Oksana already felt defeated. Even if she could lash out, it wouldn't make her feel better. She bit her tongue, hard.

Distance was the only palliative she had. She glared at the horizon with a thousand-yard stare. "What of Northfall?" 
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 Valmúa, as she moved, also watched. She had never acclimated anyone to this earth before. She herself had fallen from the sky and fallen into a fight with her brothers, as usual. It had been very natural. The girl, though, seemed lost and sad. The red woman was not sure the right words to say to comfort her. She did not know what to do to make her feel home again.
 As they moved, the girl said more. She expressed sadness. And Valmúa dipped her head, for she knew it was likely the girl would never see that place again, whatever she thought of it.
 “Things happen here,” she mentioned, reminded of her own troubles. She would never reveal them to a stranger, but she was not stupid. She knew the girl had seen the fresh and yet healing wound. “Northfall is good. It is lead by one of the North, called @Ragnar. It is a group of wolves who have proven themselves to him and his family. If you have any use to you, he will have you, should you wish to have a home.” She offered the pack despite having only limited knowledge of her. So, she dipped further. “They will want to know what you can do. So, what are you good at?”

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Home. Oksana blanched. It felt wrong to think of anywhere else as home. She was just looking for a place to stay. That's all Northfall was to her. A place to stay...

"I can hunt a little. And fish. And dry them. I know some medicine. I can gather herbs. And keep dens clean, and make beds." She exhaled, looking pensive. "I can help watch children if there are any." Her voice was softer. She wondered if it was presumptuous to say; who would trust a stranger with their young? But she knew, as well, how much a little help could make a difference. 

She could do other tasks, but there were none she thought exceptional enough to mention. In fact, none of it seemed exceptional. She feared it wouldn't be enough. But, then, she thought, there was also her body. She bit the inside of her lip. Her stomach twisted. If she had to, would she agree to it this time? She felt cold all the way to her marrow. Valmúa had said Northfall was good, but what did that mean? And how far did that goodwill extend?

She glanced at Valmúa with vague unease, thinking of the injury on her hip. "What do you do for him? Ragnar. Is he... kind?" She asked in a meaningful way. She did not mean soft or sweet.
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Speeding us forward slightly to get Oksana un-plotlocked
A note that they travelled to Northfall: https://canismajor-rpg.com/compendium.ph...iew&id=133

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 Oksana began to go through a laundry list of all the things that Valmúa believed a young wolf might be able to do. She almost didn't believe she was telling the truth, wondering of some of these pieces were like the footnote of a resume, "can do when requested" type deals. But the girl was scared. Even if it was a half-truth, it seemed a good truth.
 And, the red woman was merely trying to prepare her for her non-trial with @Ragnar. They drew closer and closer.
 “Me?” She asked, as though there was anyone else to refer to for what she did for Ragnar. “He is a friend to me,” she answered with a gentle, very genuine, smile. “He is funny, but fierce. He knows that I would defend him if he were at need, and is right to trust in me,” she said, though she did not know if this was what Oksana was after. It was almost as though Valmúa was convincing herself why she stayed, though she was healing well and could go wherever she wished.
 I am good at everything people do not think I am good at,[/q] she answered cryptically. “But, in particular, I am a fair warrior.” It was a shadow of the talk of her skill. But she had yet to prove herself in this matter to Ragnar beyond play and basic fighting among a walrus of all things.
 Their footsteps fell upon familiar terrain. The area grew rocky, but wooded as well. A forest graced their step as they ventured ever on, finding at last a sanctum for the girl. Valmúa howled then for @Ragnar, convinced that the girl was no spy.

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Ragnar did not know how long Valmua and Kuhn planned to stay, now that they had healed well. The pair had seemed to enjoy their freedom outside of the pack lifestyle, just the two of them in the vast forest that was the Evergreen. Would they stay? Would they try to return home or find another forest to call their own? Ragnar knew not, but was happy for their company here none the less.

When Valmua called out to him Ragnar followed through to it. He decended down one of the many paths which spidered through the mountains and to the forestry below. Once down, he returned her call with a bellow of his own- he was not far now.

He arrived to find her within the outskirts of the territory, where the greenery could be spotted as a beacon for travelers lost in the vast white and grey of the tundra. At her side, a pale yearling girl. “Always good to see you, Valmúa.” He gives a toothy smile and then turns his icy haze towards the stranger. “Welcome to Northfall. I am Ragnar Stormborn.” A dip of his pale snout. “And who might you be?”
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thanks :)

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It reassured her, a little, what Valmúa said about Ragnar. But what intrigued her more was Valmúa's claim to be a warrior. Oksana studied her sidelong, surprise and skepticism mingled together. She'd heard of women warriors, but until now, had never met one.

She hadn't the energy to pry, though. She lingered silently by while Valmúa sent up a call to the peaks of blue, snowcapped mountains, enduring a great wave of fatigue. Northfall, she thought, amber eyes scaling the mountain's frosty crenellations; as beautiful as it was foreboding, and yet, not at all where she wanted to be. I want to go home.

But there was no home to go back to.

Before the thought could settle in, she heard a hail from the hills and soon noticed a pale-gold figure threading toward them. His eyes, when he looked at her, were like chips of blue ice. She felt exposed. "I'm Oksana Olehovna of Sievrosk... your grace," she said, shooting a furtive look at Valmúa for a little courage. She stood docile and averted her eyes, but she also kept her face raised, her chin up, so as not to give the impression she had anything to hide. "I- I-" she cleared her throat, "Valmúa said I might get my bearings here if you'll have me. I... I don't know where I am, or where else to go."
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 She knew well that Northfall could be no more than a stopping point for the girl while she found her bearings. However, it was her hint at the ability of medicine and herbology that had taken Valmúa, convincing her that she was worth housing even in a temporary status. Showing kindness to others had typically brought good things. That is, other than the Vanderfells, who had taken her kindness and brought only violence and treachery.
 At the green footsteps of Northfall, Ragnar met them well. He was regal, and kind, but the red woman had always seen him as a bit of a goofball too. Valmúa made little secret to eyeing him with a meaningful sharpness. She had always kept a playful hunger in her gaze, but this time she met his very briefly as though to say "look at what I do for you."
 “She was lost in the tundra,” said Valmúa, after Oksana had done the heavy lifting of introducing herself. It took everything in the snarky warrior not to laugh at the reference to Ragnar as "your Grace," but she knew the girl had been through enough. It was clear that she needed more time to heal her mind, and despite her reputation, Valmúa was not cruel.
 “She says she knows medicine, and plants. We could always use that,” she said, rather boldly. While she would never be disrespectful to the King of Northfall, his form of royalty was not exactly the high class that demanded the kissing of feet. Rather, it was very much acts like the one Valmúa had just performed that pleased Ragnar and his kin. She gave him a bit of a grin, glancing to the girl, finding it funny to contrast between the way Oksana was meeting the northern male and how Valmúa had.
 She watched him, as though expecting a treat.

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Valmua's sharp look was met still with his big smile, the pale ice of his eyes squinting as he did so. He was certain she had been out of the game of recruiting for quite some time, having lived comfortably to herself with Kuhn for some time. Ragnar appreciated her efforts and surely Oksana did too.

Of Sievrosk? As Oksana had turned to Valmua for confirmation, so did Ragnar. He had never heard of this place or pack before and wondered how far it might be. Did it sound familiar to Valmua? Did Oksana loose her way from the south or had she been brought into this land from an entirely different place, as so many others?

She stood relaxed, head up, yet respectful as she deverted her eyes and her uncertainty known with the staggering of her speech. Ragnar frowned deeply. He wondered where his son, Gunthur, had ended up when everyone else had blipped into existence in this new land. Had his son woken alone? Had he come here too, but awoke in a different part of the land? Somewhere in the flats to the east or far south? Ragnar had not strayed there yet. Perhaps he should.

“Valmua is correct.” His grinning back at her turned to a softer smile as he turned his attention back to Oksana. “Northfall has never shied away from a fight. Whether in our help towards others or enemies we have faced. We have turned to our allies for healers before but having more in-house would be much welcomed.” She was young. Her skill set was probably limited. “A wolf of ours, @Aarkron, I'm sure could use your help.” He was a reclusive sort and a hard look which kept others at bay, not to mention being a former member in their enemy pack. Maybe Aarkron could find a friend in the yearling.

“Northfall is a vast land on its own, not to mention all which lie beyond. I've still yet to venture much of it myself.” Time would tell if she was the adventurous sort or if she enjoyed the comfort of being close to home her preference. “We are an adventurous people here, viking.” He spoke the term in accented tongue of the north with favor for Valmua. “You would not be bound here and are free to explore as you so choose to get your barrings and decide which path you would like to take in your life.” And if she decided to stay even there after, she could. Not all however preferred the cold and hard work of the northern coasts.
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The camaraderie between the two was not lost on her, but it proved to be a double-edged sword. While she felt safer in Ragnar’s company with Valmúa there, she also felt, paradoxically, more alone. It wasn’t their fault, but she was painfully aware she was the odd one out.

Valmúa helpfully announced Oksana’s self-proclaimed talents; something she’d neglected, partly out of modesty and partly to avoid any real scrutiny. Once they were announced, however, she gave an earnest nod and tried to recall everything she could about medicine and plants in case Ragnar asked her to prove it. But she could hardly remember anything in her state, and, fortunately, he didn’t ask.

Instead, he mentioned Northfall’s appetite for challenges (fights, specifically), and mentioned someone she might see. She made a mental note of the other wolf’s name, Aarkron. But her personal commitment to meet him was lackluster. She just wanted to curl up somewhere safe, and dark, and private.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "I’ll… do my best to be useful. In return for your kindness." I hope I don’t disappoint you, she naturally wanted to add. But her heart wasn’t in it, so she trailed off awkwardly. She wasn’t sure if it mattered whether she disappointed him or not. So far, she liked Valmúa, and she liked Ragnar; they didn’t seem like the kind who’d harm her. But Northfall wasn’t her home. And these vikings weren’t her people.

… Not yet.
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Woop, closing this one out for us. Apologies for the delay. Feel free to leave a reply or leave as is

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 Valmúa nodded, even though she and Aarkron had never properly been introduced. She listened, standing silent and stern while she watched her leader at work. It rather delighted her to do so, mostly because he behaved quite differently with others than he had done with her before coming here. She found herself licking her teeth, as though finding some pleasant flavour he didn't know.
 Part of her felt guilty to pigeon-hole her into a role before even really having a chance to show what she enjoyed, but the red woman also wanted this girl to find peace. If she turned out to be a lousy healer and instead just be a healthy body in their ranks, so be it. Anything to bolster this pack was something she was glad of.
 “You are already useful. You will accompany me through Northfall to your quarters,” she said to Oksana, offering an obvious wink for comfort. There was no sense in her feeling like she was tied down. Valmúa was just happy to make a potential feminine friend.
 She grinned, and moved onward, nipping playfully at Ragnar as she passed by.

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Last for me!

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The young woman didn't seem happy to be here, though seemed grateful for it all the same. After all, Valmua had stated she had been lost in the tundra. With it, she had lost her family, her friends, her home. Ragnar could not imagine she would be very happy even if she were greatful for their kindness and acceptance of her.

“Of course...” He spoke to the yearling girl as then Valmua spoke, suggesting to guide Oksana to a place she might rest.

As Valmua passes on with a goodbye nip, Ragnar turns around to keep with her, snipping with the front of his teeth to snag her tail. Valmua would take good care of their newest member, he was sure.
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