For the first time after their arrival and after her long healing, Erna decided to venture out of the comfort of the Tundra. The beast of a woman prowled the open fields, glad that at least the snow had not thawed. The winter here was meek, far from the fierce snowstorms and destructive winds that gripped the Rike's homeland. She was adjusting to her new life, her limb no longer difficult to walk on. It did give her some trouble from time to time, but nothing major unless she pushed too hard. Whatever medicines her kin had fed her had helped and her constant strive to adapt to the bad leg was showing progress. Now she walked with a barely noticeable lameness, having made the habit to shift her weight on the rest of her limbs. However, even if the beast of a woman had successfully overcome another challenge, the anxiety in the back of her mind remained. Her kin's ever-watchful eyes were poking holes in her nape, waiting for the moment she slipped. Thankfully, this land was full of opportunities. Full of Sigrun blood to be shed and victories to be claimed. She will wear her fear as armor.

Her paws itched to be free of the lagoon, to wander from the not-home and explore the lands as she used to. Asteria had once longed for adventure, seeing each new place for the promise it held. The drama and uncertainty of her last months of life had changed things, but today would be different.

The bite of winter had eased enough to make her comfortable to travel, and while she did not intend to go far from the lagoon she did find it markedly easier to breath as she wandered through the snow. It was the open fields that drew her and she could not help but revert to her ways of old, bright eyed and curious. Winter changed things and she was suddenly excited for what she might find — half grown through she may be she was still a child at heart.

With bounding strides she reached the snow covered field, stopping short when she realized she was not alone. Adopting her nearly forgotten smile she approached, entirely unaware of why there was a niggling sense of warning in her mind, a vague sense that she should know who this was.

Asteria ignored that instinct and greeted her with a light - “hello!” as she approached.

Table by Amanda | Reference by Kite | Background

Erna had not anticipated company so quickly, on her second day of venturing out. However, the contrasting shape of a tiny girl bounded towards her with a sweet smile. The northern woman's gaze narrowed in on the approaching adolescent, claws gripping the ground in anticipation of a possible attack. Instead of that, the doe-eyed girl offered a greeting. Erna halted a few meters away, keeping a wary distance between them. This whelp looked far from dangerous and the bear of a woman was certain she could beat the other to the ground. Yet her mind was clad in iron and blades, built in a completely different environment. One where showing even the slightest weakness could mean death. "Who are you?" Her deep voice inquired suspiciously, violet eyes shooting daggers.

it wasn’t exactly a sunshine and roses kind of greeting, but asteria was not entirely bothered. Instead she was quick to respond - “Asteria Zero,” you will not be Sigrun “who’re you?” It was only fair, right?

If only she knew how much things were about to change.

Bright eyes tried to ignore the glare, skating around their surroundings instead. “I bet you’re a lot warmer than I am!” the woman, whomever she may be, looked a little more built for the cold than the dark girl, even with her mane growing in.

Table by Amanda | Reference by Kite | Background

The bob-tailed cat observed the coal-furred girl from under her furrowed brows, scrutinizing her every move like a predator stalking its prey. The name given meant nothing to the Rike woman. There was mild disappointment that the girl was no Sigrun, for she could've played around with her a bit. Send to their enemies, written in blood. Her claws itched for another round, for some sweet revenge and glory. "Erna Rike." She stood tall and proud when uttering her namesake, a hint of arrogance evident in her violet gaze as she peered down at the whelp. The random comment made by Asteria was left unanswered.

erna rike. rike. Visions of Saga’s gaping eye socket were overlaid with memories of Solvi’s body, so deathly still. Bloodied and broken. Ruined. Rike. The black wave rises and morphs and becomes something different. It is not the cold sucking black of the ocean but a fierce fiery crimson. It is rage and it consumes and possesses and soon it is all she can see. The red tinges her vision as she turns ever so slowly back to the woman. Asteria would not make a good poker player. Her emotions play clearly across her face (she never had learned how to turn them off) as her lip curls in a snarl. It does not matter that she is small, it does not matter that her next move is practically a death sentence. All that matters is “you killed my sister.” the statement ends in a vicious growl and a flurry of action. Nevermind that it was not Erna that did it, nevermind that she did not deliver the blow - she was Rike and she would pay. Asteria is chaos incarnate, a jumble of teeth and claws as she launches at the stranger, seeking purchase anywhere she can. Her teeth aim for the neck and her claws for the face but there is no finesse to her actions. There is only rage.

Erna sees the first hint of a shift within the onyx girl's expression, her features giving it away immediately and sparking an alar within the fierce Rike's head. As if a machine, she quickly rolled her broad shoulders forward and spread her weight evenly across her four legs, careful not to overload her bad limb. The fire, the anger, the sorrow dancing across the stranger's features fed her ego, throwing fuel to the constantly burning fire in Erna's gut. The thought that just uttering her mere surname would cause such a shift in some random lioness was magnificent. She felt her heartbeat skip in anticipation. "You killed my sister." Frankly, the thick-furred woman had no clue who Asteria was talking about. Rike have slain many Sigrun, and they will slay many more. Either way, she ran with it if only to rile up the whelp more. "So?" Was her short answer, intending to play around with her newfound toy. She watched the girl launch in an attack, feeding on her grief and despair. Erna attempts to intercept Asteria's jaws with her own as they snake towards the girl's nose. As a result of that, she fails to avoid the onyx babe's claws that land across her lefft cheek, leaving deep lacerations that immediately gush blood. She lifts her right paw, talons seeking to plant across the left side of the girl's head with a force that could throw the smaller adolescent unconscious.

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of blood and gore Asteria is not a fighter, but it lives in her blood. The girl had never fought beyond childhood wrestles and tumbles and it is only instinct that guides her. Instinct and rage. They work at odds with each other, the rage blinding her to the messages that instinct might bring. so? The flippant question rings through her ears and rattles around in her brain, further blinding her and causing her moves to become almost frantic. She does turn her head, flinching instinctively from the teeth that flash towards her nose. Her own attack interrupted but at least the teeth fall short - the claws, however, do not. There is vivid pain that wrenches a cry from her lips, claws shredding flesh across the left side of her head. She is cut from the top of her scalp down the curve of her jaw and the blood is immense. A piece of skin dangles and sticks to her cheek when the girl shakes her head, as if she might clear away the pain. It does not leave and asteria can only lash out blindly, losing her focus in the face of agony. Her claws slash wildly through the air, fuelled by desperation as a sudden thought broke through the fog - I don’t want to die. The thought gives her a brief moment of clarity as she coils her haunches behind her and shoves towards the woman, teeth once more bared and seeking to snap closed on any part of @erna’s face that she can reach. It is a last ditch effort, a futile retaliation, as already the blood that stains the snow makes her limbs grow weak.

The adrenaline rush brought on by her claws hitting their mark was comparable to nothing else. Her right limb swiftly returned to the ground. After all this time sitting idle, biding her time, Erna felt reborn in the flurry of talons and fangs. While the battle was far from glamorous, considering the fragile age of her opponent, it was enough to inflict some sort of blow upon the enemy's ranks. Erna knew that their weakness lay in their love towards their children and she was going to use that to her advantage. Asteria's unpredictable movements managed to land her claws across Erna's left front shoulder, closer to her neck. The cuts were deep and long, staining her chocolate fur a dark red hue. The girl's teeth found purchase upon Erna's forehead, tearing a chunk of flesh with them. Fuelled by the pain, the Rike woman was getting tired of the whelp's games. And so, she lifted her left paw this time, balancing on the rest of her feet, trying to punch Asteria across the head and send her unconscious once and for all. If she died from the impact, it would save Erna a lot time.

There was blood. Too much blood. Hers and the other woman’s, mingling on the snow, stealing the beauty of winter and turning it in to something horrific. Her world begins to fade, her head screaming at her to run and hide and save her own damn life. Her struggles grow weak and while there is the faintest hint of satisfaction feeling her claws tear flesh in return it is not enough. Even the gush of flesh and blood in her mouth is not enough, and when @erna’s paw rises again she is too slow to stop it. Erna is much larger than the half grown girl, and as her left paw collided with Asteria’s right temple there is a sickening crack that nearly kills her. All life goes out of the child and she crumples to the ground with a cut-off groan. The flesh there is torn and bleeding and as she lay deathly still in the snow the pool of blood grows more with each passing second. -exit via unconsciousness-