Private Come little Wolf...

[Astrid Ylva]

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Outfit | Just her cloak...
Location | Frosthold
Tag | Aelin Erevos

In the heart of the unforgiving North, where the chilling winds danced with the ancient stones of Frosthold, Astrid, the Alpha of Clan Ylva, held court upon her throne. The grand hall echoed with an eerie stillness as she awaited the arrival of Aelin, the Anasi, a summons filled with unspoken intentions. Clad in furs that mirrored the starkness of the wilderness, Astrid commanded attention. Her gaze was an icy flame, piercing and unwavering, while her crossed legs revealed exposed flesh that bore the mark of the frigid cold. The air whispered secrets of her resilience, her defiance against the elements that shaped their harsh homeland.

Beside her, Bjorn, known as the Mountain, stood as a towering presence. His formidable armor, forged with the strength of the North, melded seamlessly with the rugged terrain, a symbol of his unwavering loyalty and unwavering strength. He remained silent, a silent guardian ever-watchful behind the throne, ready to protect and defend his Alpha at a moment's notice. Frosthold, with its towering stone walls and crackling hearth, bore witness to the triumphs and trials of the past. Trophies and artifacts adorned the walls, testaments to battles fought and won, speaking volumes of Astrid's relentless pursuit of strength and dominion. It was a space that exuded power, a reflection of her unwavering commitment to protect her Clan and the North from any threat that dared to challenge their sovereignty.

In this wintry stronghold, Astrid's thoughts churned with a mix of emotions. Anger simmered within her, fueled by perceived slights and broken promises, like molten lava coursing through her veins. Yet, beneath the anger, a flicker of longing and hope remained. Hope for answers, for understanding, and for a path forward that could restore the fragile balance between their clans. The air grew heavy with anticipation as the grand hall stood poised for the arrival of Aelin. The crackling hearth cast dancing shadows upon the stone walls, creating an ethereal ambiance. The presence of Astrid, seated upon her throne, exuded strength and determination, her fingers tightening around the armrests in a subtle display of simmering emotions.

Bjorn, the silent guardian, emanated a palpable aura of unwavering loyalty. His armor bore the scars of countless battles, a testament to his steadfast dedication to Astrid and their shared cause. Together, they formed an indomitable force, a formidable presence that sent ripples of awe through those who beheld them. In the stillness of the grand hall, the destiny of their clans hung in the balance. The meeting that awaited them would be a test of loyalties, a clash of ambitions, and a chance for Astrid to reclaim her place among the North's most formidable leaders. Frosthold, with its ancient stones and chilling winds, would bear witness to the decisions and revelations that unfolded within its hallowed walls.

As she sat upon her throne, Astrid's resolute gaze scanned the hall, her presence a force to be reckoned with. The frigid air whispered tales of trials and sacrifices, hinting at the magnitude of the meeting that lay ahead. The stage was set, and the grand hall stood as a testament to the weight of their shared destinies.

In the midst of the frozen wilderness, where the echoes of battles fought and won reverberated through the very essence of Frosthold, Astrid awaited Aelin's arrival. The true nature of calling the little wolf North would be revealed soon enough.

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[Aelin Erevos]

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Outfit | XoXo
Location | Frosthold, Islimore
Tag | Astrid Ylva

It was a curious sensation, almost unsettling, for the young Anasa to find herself summoned by another, rather than being the summoner. Yet, she would never slight another Alpha and disregard their invitation.

Especially not one who'd piqued her interest previously.

A meeting between the two of them had been set before the fall at Hljóðleva, but perhaps mercifully, Astrid was called back before her arrival to deal with her own pressing matters. Whispers that'd been carried on chilled winds through the Gore Pass, told her it'd been one of Astrid's wolves that were partially responsible for the ruthless attack on her encampment.

Last Aelin knew, the other she-wolf meted out his reckoning through teeth and claws - a death she wished she could have been present to see.

During her own quiet musings, it occurred to her that betrayal was not an uncommon occurrence amongst their own. A peculiar fact, given the profound esteem in which loyalty and strength was held above all else in their species.

As Aelin crossed the threshold and into the grand hall, she found herself embraced by an ethereal chill, the air itself infused with the very essence of ice and stone. Majestic arches soared overhead, undoubtedly crafted long ago by master masons, their intricately carved patterns fringed with frost. At the center of it all, perched on a regal throne, was the Alpha of her domain.

With lashes dark as soot, Aelin slowly raised her burning gaze to meet the piercing of this woman's sapphire blues.

Even from this distance, the smell of pine needles and fresh fallen snow caressed her nose like a glacial breeze. Even if she'd never experienced a winter before, she believed that this particular Lupo's signature would have given her a glimpse into grasping the feeling of it. In the gathering hall, she'd missed it, but Dorian's cousin smelled of woodland balsam and crisp eucalyptus, of snowed upon cedarwood, crystallized pine and frosted florals. Aelin knew from growing up on Seoul that only the sturdiest of flowers could bloom in winter. This scent was that of a she-wolf who had survived winter's harshest wrath and come out the other side.

Aelin stopped a respectable distance from the other woman. She'd been invited into her territory, but this was still Astrid's hall, her place of sanctuary. She wouldn't encroach further unless invited.

She lowered herself in a respectful bow, unchanged from her traveling gear and the heavy furs that adorned her shoulders, making her petite frame appear even smaller by comparison. After what seemed an appropriate time she rose, her damask cloak whispering against her legs as she stood to her full height - an unimpressive eight inches over five feet tall. Even those female Lupo who were considered short, were at least six-feet.

"Thank you for the gracious invitation to your hall, Astrid. I was sorry we didn't have time to speak when you were in Hardhaven."

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[Astrid Ylva]

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Outfit | Just her cloak
Location | Frosthold
Tag | Aelin Erevos

Astrid's gaze fixated upon Aelin, her piercing eyes like frozen sapphires, gleaming with an intensity that sent a shiver down the young Anasa's spine. The grand hall echoed with a chilling stillness, as if the very essence of winter had seeped into the stone walls, infusing the air with its icy breath. The scent of pine and snow hung in the air, mingling with the subtle fragrance of Astrid herself, a potent blend of woodland balsam, crisp eucalyptus, and the earthy musk of a she-wolf who had endured the harshest winters. It spoke of resilience and survival, an olfactory testament to Astrid's unwavering strength.

As Aelin approached, the sound of her steps muffled by the plush fur rugs that adorned the hall, Astrid remained seated upon her regal throne. The flickering light of torches cast dancing shadows upon her striking features, enhancing the commanding aura that surrounded her. The heavy furs draped across Aelin's shoulders accentuated her petite frame, contrasting with the regality of the hall. Though smaller in stature, there was a palpable strength emanating from the young Alpha, a fire within her that defied her size.

With a subtle incline of her head, Astrid acknowledged Aelin's presence, her voice carrying a measured tone infused with authority and respect.

"Aelin, it is good to finally meet you in person," she spoke, her voice cutting through the air with a tinge of frost. "Your invitation was well received, and I appreciate your presence here in Frosthold. I apologize for our missed opportunity in Hardhaven. There were matters that required my attention."

The air seemed to chill further as Astrid leaned forward slightly, her piercing gaze intensifying as it locked onto Aelin's burning eyes. She exuded a sense of power, as if she could unravel the deepest secrets with a single look. Astrid's eyes briefly flickered to the towering figure of Bjorn, his imposing presence clad in armor behind the throne, before returning to the young Alpha before her.

"I have questions, and I seek answers," Astrid continued, her voice laced with determination. She rose from her throne, her furs concealing her bare flesh, her movements graceful and deliberate. As she descended the steps, the bare soles of her feet kissed the cold stone floor, a testament to her connection with the rugged terrain of the North. Astrid approached Aelin, her presence looming close, their scents intertwining in the frigid air. With an almost predatory gaze, Astrid's piercing eyes locked onto Aelin's, as if peering into the depths of her very soul.

"Now that you're here, you can provide these answers," She murmured, her voice a low, growling undertone. Suddenly, Astrid's demeanor shifted, her features contorting into a snarl, a fleeting glimpse of her untamed ferocity. Abruptly, she turned away from Aelin, her hand grazing the edges of the war map displayed on the ancient wood. Her fingertips traced the intricate markings, as if seeking solace in the tangible.

"Once we conquer the Fayth, what is your plan, Anasa?" Astrid's voice was laden with a mix of curiosity and a challenge, her eyes narrowed as she awaited the young Alpha's response. The tension in the air was palpable, the weight of their shared destiny hanging between them like a heavy winter fog.

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[Aelin Erevos]

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Outfit | XoXo
Location | Frosthold, Islimore
Tag | Astrid Ylva

Aelin only smiled, allowing Astrid's question to linger momentarily as she came to stand beside the other woman at the long table she stood over. Her gaze fell to the map, taking it in as Islimore unfolded before her with the trace of ages long past. Not an inch of its surface was neglected, with vivid brushstrokes and intricate carvings capturing the essence of distinctive regions and landmarks. Her gaze lingered longer on the fading depiction of Cælestos , the once-magnificent city of her ancestors, the cradle of her lineage for well over eight centuries before it succumbed to the Blackmoore invader. Rivers slithered like serpents across the terrain, Leithrex and Cheryux splitting at feet of the imposing Abolase mountain ranges that jutted from the earth like slumbering behemoths.

The Drage family had taken great care in her education, immersing her deepest in the study of Islimore itself as they sought to temper her wilder nature. She could still remember those laborious hours spent pouring over the numerous maps and texts until her eyes burned and practically bled, a once-rebellious heart smoldering with resentment every time she was forced to pick up another book. Gazing upon this masterfully crafted artifact, she felt a flicker of gratitude for their persistence.

"My plan," Aelin began, her voice steady and resonate despite its delicate timbre. "Is to forge a path that leads us not only to victory but also to lasting peace. Once we bring an end to the Fayth and their Sabathian supporters, the work begins to balance and restore our lands and people. The Lupo will be returned to the ancestral homes of their birthright, no longer forced to conceal themselves or live out their days in fear and celestial exile. I will rule in the South for as long as it takes to see the Southern Clans become whole again, and hopefully," she paused, head quirking to the side. "with the Northern realms as our allies during this rebuilding process."

"The humans," she continued, one hand laying itself over the other. "will be faced with the selfsame choice they once forced on us when they stole this world from our grasp. Either they consent to abandon Islimore and never again intrude upon our lands, or suffer the consequences." While she'd seen instances of humanity and Lupo living side by side in the greater Galaxy, the rancor and unbridled loathing that she'd not only borne witness to, but now carried permanently imprinted on her skin, left her doubting that such amity could ever truly flourish between the two species. "In exchange for their compliance, over a number of set years, we'll arrange for their safe passage to Islimore's sister world, Evaria." It was a better deal than the Lupo were ever given.

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