In the precise moment Ak'ka asks about whether or not her father knows she's here, the air around Einheria... changes.

There's always this distinct sorrowful quality to her eyes, something about the shape of them, the size of her eyelids and the heaviness of her too-dark lashes, but it deepens, the starlight fading from her eyes as if someone had plucked the very moon from the sky before her. She clasps her hands together in her lap once more, but not as primly, fingers curling together a little too tightly, winding threads up and pulling them tight to keep herself together. She swallows audibly, teeth digging into her lower lip as she worries it in place, weighing words on her tongue before letting them loose.

"Father, uh..." Einheria starts, her voice tight. "He... does not know I am here, no. But not because I do not wish to tell him, and certainly not because I wished to run away."

She trails off for a moment, staring at her lap like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"You need not worry about retaliation from my father," she finally murmurs, weakly, lifting her gaze from her lap to look at Ak'ka with a solemn, illegible expression. "He is not presently awake. There is nothing he can do to anyone, even if he had the will to do it. I doubt he would harm you, anyway-- I have nothing but kind words to say about you, Ak'ka."

Einheria manages a fragile giggle, sonorous as a wind chime, delicate as one, too-- cut the string and it all will break.

"My, my, you, a hellraiser?" she says with a mild edge of faux-shock, the practiced edge of sarcasm sounding a little unnatural with her voice. She pauses, grimacing for a moment before sighing, the attempt quickly leaving in her next words. "I... well... I imagine you were the rebellious type indeed. You have the confidence of one."

“Not awake?” Ak’ka blinked stupidly, not really getting what Einheria was getting at. “What, is he in hibernation or something?” Ak’ka knew shit all about dragons, but based on how sad Einheria was, it was probably more than just taking a long winter nap. She let out a burst of surprised laughter as Einheria said that she had nothing but good things to say about the half-orc. She did feel bad about making the little lady sad, because it left her with a little, puddly dragonling that looked more like a bedraggled, pitiful kitten.

Well, shit.

She was gonna have to make Einheria feel better, wasn’t she?

“Well, uh, that’s rough buddy.” Ak’ka said roughly, which was honestly the best she could do on the emotionally sensitive front. What was she even supposed to say? Was she supposed to offer a hug or something? Was that supposed to make people feel better? She was struck with the feeling that she’d broken something like brittle ice, and there was no way to put the pieces together. “If you’re lookin’ for something to wake him up, coffee usually gets me moving in the morning. Have you tried that?” She asked lamely.

At least the mention of her wild childhood took Einheria’s mind off of her loss. Ak’ka laughed, smacking her knee as she thought of her own memories to share. “Oh, was I. I remember one time when I was younger, my old man put a weapon in my hands for the first time. He gave me a hammer and told me to aim at a target to test my strength. I missed and immediately gave him a concussion. I musta been, like… four?” She let out another round of loud laughter. “My old man was bedridden for a week and a half, and his right eye never worked the same after that!”

Come to think of it, maybe that had been part of the reason for his downfall. He hadn’t even been able to see the blow from behind coming when it mattered.

"Hibernation would be... preferable," Einheria continues, that same distant, pensive tone clinging to every pretty syllable she speaks, her expression vacant. She glances down at her lap once more, a sense of yearning flashing across her face; Gods, she misses her father, has since the moment she woke up curled up against his boreal scales and couldn't get his eyes to open, couldn't get him to move beyond the too-slow rise and fall of inhalation and exhalation, the last piece of proof he was alive. "I... do not know how it happened myself, but my father has been... cursed. Seven hundred years of sleep, and an eternity more, unless I do something to save him."

That was what Lady Skuld had told her, at least.

It's a lot of pressure, for someone like her, but fairy tales always start in the hands of the underwhelming.

She bites her lip.

"A-Ah, well-- I somehow doubt coffee would be especially effective," she says, managing a weak smile, a tiny little laugh springing out beneath the words. It's... nice that Ak'ka's trying to keep high spirits about it, as though she's trying to get her to laugh. It's sweet. Very sweet! Like tree sap cored from a frozen-over maple! Frigid and flaky, but capable of oozing out sweetness with a little bit of effort.

The sorrow in Einheria's face yields to surprise as she listens to Ak'ka talk about her own childhood, eyes fully widening at the mention of a hammer-- of a concussion. Goodness, what a story.

"Oh my," she says softly. "You must always have been a very strong lady, Ak'ka."

If Ak’ka hadn’t already finished off her liquor she had a feeling she would have spat out her alcohol at the number Einheria just rattled off.

“Seven hundred years? What the hell?”

When Einheria said centuries, Ak’ka was only thinking maybe one or two. Three at best. Seven hundred years was nearly entirely a millennia! … Maybe. Ak’ka was really bad with numbers. But Einheria was still looking all dejected about her old man, so Ak’ka figured she may as well ask. “Is that like a normal dragon thing?” That explained why she’d been gung-ho about money from a wizard hunt, at least. Maybe she was looking for a mage, too. For different reasons, but at least that gave them something in common.

Einheria bit her lip and laughed, like Ak’ka’s mention of coffee was really funny. It wasn’t meant to be a joke- Ak’ka narrowed her eyes for a minute before deciding that it wasn’t worth it. Whatever, as long as Einheria stopped looking like she was gonna dissolve into a puddle of ice cold tears. Would she cry snowflakes? Nah, that wasn’t the question to ask right now.

“Look. If you’re gunning for money for your old man, you’ve got nothing but time for that. Literally.” Way more than she thought. “But if ya want my advice, it’ll to shit all to be sad about him. Either you wake him up, or you don’t and you move on. Either way, you’ll always have the good times with him. Like the ones you were just telling me about.”

The little lady definitely sounded scandalized at Ak’ka’s story, like she wasn’t sure what to make of it. That didn’t offend Ak’ka any. Most people didn’t understand how orc families worked- that your parents were the ones to instill that strength into you, so the world couldn’t break it.

“Heh. Yeah, I’ve always been tough.”

The gray clouds overhead had begun to thicken, the snow beginning to fall harder overhead. The cart was well beyond the borders of the Pale City, venturing further into the wilderness.

“But it looks like we’ve got that in common, Dragonling.”

At Ak'ka's question, Einheria merely nods along, largely unfazed by the half-orc's clear surprise. Most mortal lives were rather... transient things, in contrast to the millennia a dragon's life could span across. It was strange to think that time that would only feel like minutes to her in hindsight were entire lifetimes for some.

"Dragons are incredibly long-lived creatures," she says softly, wistfully-- a little less somberly. She tilts her head back a little, tabulating the years in her mind, wondering over just how long she's been alive, just how many years her father had held before her. "I had recently seen the dawn of my own seventh century by the time my father and I were put to sleep... I should be in my fourteenth century of life, now, though I hardly consider that to be the case. I do not believe it really counts if you have been asleep for half of the years you have been alive. As for my father... He is older than I could say."

Tension splits through her all over again, though, at the very suggestion that her father might not awaken-- shoulders bristling, spine rigid, eyes even narrowing just so.

"...I will save him," she whispers, voice clear and cold and brimming with conviction, frozen hellfire spun into sound. The sharp edge, harsh as an icicle, only lingers for a moment, melting with the heat of embarrassment and guilt as she eases her pose. "I-- I will. I... dear me, I apologize for... my sharpness just then, I merely... feel quite passionately on the subject. You are right, of course. Memory... Memory is its own form of immortality."

Einheria lets out a shaky sigh, unease creeping down her spine. Oh, goodness, she really hadn't meant to snap just now-- the mere suggestion of never hearing her father's voice again just... makes her heart ache so deeply that it kindles something polar within her, something so cold she can feel it freeze her all the way through. But it fades, ebbing away as she listens to Ak'ka, a twinkle returning to her eye at the kinder turn of words, even in spite of the heavy snow falling over them both.

"...I am glad you believe as much, Ak'ka. I admire you quite a bit, so that is high praise coming from you."

“Put to sleep?” Ak’ka raised her eyebrows. From the way the little lady was talking, it sounded an awful lot like sabotage. Maybe someone who wanted Einheria and her old man trapped… dragon hunters, or maybe someone who wanted a dragon’s power for their own? Ak’ka wasn’t that bright about other shit, but there were some things she understood. Namely, that some folk did underhanded shit to get strong, and the ones at the top always had to watch their back. Even a king could be toppled by a well-timed sleep spell, or an avalanche.

“That makes ya… what, fourteen hundred?” Ak’ka did the math twice on her hands to make sure she’d added right. “Wow. Awfully old for someone who looks like a baby.”

As Ak’ka brought up her old man, Einheria snapped at Ak’ka, finally showing her drive now that she’d been backed into a corner, forced to confront her fears. Ak’ka blinked, momentarily surprised by the outburst, but even as Einheria floundered over an apology for her anger, so embarrassed that one would think that she called Ak’ka’s ma a prostitute, Ak’ka only shook her head, bursting into startled laughter. She leaned over, smacking Einheria on the shoulder.

“Don’t apologize for your drive! Let that fuel you! Use it! ‘Cus you’re gonna have all sorts of people telling you it’s impossible, but you take their words and shove it up their ass.” She said. “That kind of energy? Bring it into every battle, every job you take. It ain’t just your life you’re fighting for, right now.” Ak’ka leaned forward, suddenly serious. “It’s your old man’s, too.”

That was the best advice she could have the little lady. Back in the day, her clan’s success and survival resting on her shoulders was what weighed her down, but she used that to pick herself back up. Those kinds of burdens separated the shit from the gems, and she had a feeling that the little dragon was a diamond in the rough.

The cart bumped into a rock with enough force to throw any lesser person out of the vehicle. Ak’ka nearly hit her head against the back of the wagon’s side from the jostling motion. Irritated, she rubbed at the back of her head. “Oi, watch where you’re moving up there!” She grumbled as the cart came to a slow stop in front of a thick line of pine trees.

“Don’t wreck my cart, brute. We’re here.”

“Whatever. Thanks for the ride, asshole.” Ak’ka rolled her eyes, not really that bothered by his insult as she picked herself up and jumped out of the cart. She landed in the grass with a dull thud, the ground rumbling beneat her feet before she turned around to the dragon with an expectant look.

"Well, are you ready? Show me that drive of yours, little lady.”

Confusion flashes across Einheria's face at Ak'ka's assessment of her appearance; did she truly look so young, in her eyes? It was true that she hardly even came close to looking her age, and that she did look particularly youthful even for a dragon, but "a baby" felt like quite the exaggeration. She can't help but pout a bit at that one, lips pursed and cheeks puffed up ever so slightly, which certainly does not help her case.

Still, the miffed expression fizzles quickly at the way Ak'ka responds to her outburst-- with a burst of uproarious laughter and the clap of her palm against Einheria's shoulder, with... with pride instead of the rage she had dreaded. Dare she say she sounds impressed, as if the cold fury that burned within her had been worthy of applause rather than one of those many things she needed to wrap up in chains and vault away, lock away out of the world's sight, toss away beneath the sea and pray for winter to bury it.

"...I... you truly believe as much?" she asks tentatively, a nervous edge to the words. A moment of silence passes before her tone shifts, a harsher whisper leaving her like the bitter winds of the north, biting and brittle. "...I.. I just... think of the condition he is in, of the fact that he has been unrightfully cursed, and I... it fills me with this cold resolve. There is no 'if' for me. There is only the question of how much time stands between me and my goal, and nothing more. I will stop at nothing for him."

And yet, as quickly as that strange, sharp tone of hers enters, it's gone with the way the wagon crashes against the rock; she startles, a tiny squeak leaving her as the vehicle jolts. She bites at her lip as she watches Ak'ka yell toward the wagon's driver, but her brow furrows as he yells back, that look of displeasure returning to her face as she rises to her feet and heads for the exit.

"You could stand to be kinder, sir," Einheria says quickly, turning to the cart driver, lips pulled thin in a small frown. "We both appreciate the ease of passage greatly, but compassion goes a long way, and casually tossing such words toward my companion was quite uncalled for."

She lets out a little 'hmph' before leaping down from the wagon, summoning her weapon in another surge of snowflakes.

"I am ready, Ak'ka," she says, stepping forward, already glancing around for any traces of magic, any signs of the wizard. "Alright... this wizard shall have much to fear from us both. Let us see... I imagine he is deeper in than this. Shall we?"

“Yeah, I do.” There weren’t much folk that had that kind of conviction the little dragon was talking about. “Back in my day, that was exactly the kinda thing was what drove me to protect my tribe. You just gotta grab ahold of that and use it!” It wasn’t often Ak’ka met someone whose determination could match hers, but hell if the little lady wasn’t making a go at it. Something along the lines of begrudging respect was growing for the tiny lady.

After she jumped out of the cart, irritation from being called a brute already fading, Ak’ka was already making her way to the woods when she heard Einheria telling off the wagon driver- in a polite tone, but still frigid as she reprimanded him. Ak’ka’s brows rose as the little lady harrumphed, hopping down to the ground like a little fluttering snowflake.

“Ya didn’t need to do that.” Ak’ka said, so bewildered that someone would stand up for her that she wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m used to it. Ain’t like telling him off is gonna do anything.” She’d met more than enough people in her life that had treated her the same way that it all just rolled off her back at this point. It was just another part of life that she had to deal with and learn to ignore, and if she cared about what others thought of her then she’d never get shit done. But Einheria apparently wasn’t too happy with that.

Being defended like that wasn’t something she’d ever really felt before.

It was… nice, she guessed?

Unsure what else to say, or how to deal with what it felt like to have someone you could call a friend stick up for her for the first time, Ak’ka turned back to the woods.

“Seems like a safe bet.” She grunted, voice unusually strained for a minute before she cleared her throat into her fist. “He’d be a pretty shitty wizard if he was hanging around here. Come on, let’s go.”

She stepped up to one of the first pine trees at the very edge of the forest, staring up at it with an unusually thoughtful look on her face. If they were going to fight someone powerful, they needed everything they could get at their disposal. She didn’t even wait before wrapping her arms around the trunk of the tree and yanking it upwards, pulling the roots straight out of the ground.

She turned back to Einheria with a grin on her face, slinging the tree casually over her shoulder.

“Okay. Now I’m ready.”

---

Tree Obtained

As soon as Ak'ka assures Einheria that she didn't have to do anything, that saying anything to the cart-driver had been unnecessary, she... pauses.

"Ak'ka," she begins softly, a strangely serious look in her eyes as she tilts her head back to meet the half-orc's own dismal grey gaze, the gentility of her voice and the direness of her expression at odds. "Everyone deserves to have someone come to their defense, somehow. What sort of friend would I be to you if I merely let that man insult you so?"

For a woman as prone to overthinking as Einheria, she does not seem to think twice about calling Ak'ka her friend-- the word flows easily, naturally, as though she's known the half-orc for the longest time and this is merely a reunion instead of their first journey together. None of her usual paranoia spikes through her, not a single apology about possible presumptuousness following the words; she merely manages a tiny smile, one she hopes with all her heart serves as encouragement, fingertips ghosting against one of Ak'ka's arms like the gentle kiss of snowflakes before she withdraws her hand.

The softness in her countenance shifts ever-so-slightly into confusion as soon as Ak'ka pauses before one of the pine trees at the forest's mouth, the contemplative look on the half-orc's face bringing her pause. Is there something strange within or on the tree, perhaps? What could it possibly be? It's hard to tell from here--

Oh. Oh.

Einheria practically squeaks as Ak'ka effortlessly yanks the tree from the earth, slinging it over her shoulder like a club or some other heavy weapon, with all the casualness of a warrior stepping into the ring. It's a brilliant show of strength, and as soon as the disbelief fizzles, Einheria's expression brightens all over again, a veritable North Star of bewildered delight.

"Oh my, Ak'ka," she says quietly, her voice high with excitement all the same. "You truly are so very powerful. This wizard stands no chance against us! This reminds me of a very long poem I read once, about a strong warrior who took the arm of a giant as his weapon... oh, I will save that for another time. Let us go!"

She starts off into the woods, already beginning to look for any traces of magic, brow furrowed as she looks for proof of the wizard's presence-- traces that he was here.

Huh. Ak’ka wasn’t really sure what to make of the little lady getting upset over this of all things. It was hardly the worst thing she’d been told in the world- hell, her old man had spat insults at her from the day she was able to understand orcish speech. In his case, he was only trying to make her strong. Half-orcs didn’t exactly tend to make it very far in the world, especially the illegitimate daughter of a weak orc chieftain. Her old man just needed her to be ready.

That insult was like child’s play compared to some of the shit she’d heard.

But still.

Ak’ka managed a grin, figuring she should at least show her gratitude. The little lady had no reason to stand up for her- hell, they could barely be considered strangers- but she’d still helped. That had to have meant something… and maybe, a small secret part of her was grateful for the dragonling sticking up for her. She’d do the same for the lady, after all.

“Hey, you’re alright, Ein.” Ak’ka said as she ripped the tree from its spot in the ground. “Definitely the sweetest little friend I’ve ever had.” Coming from someone as gruff natured as Ak’ka, that was probably as genuine a compliment as she was used to giving.

Watching Ein get all flustered sure was pretty funny, though.

“Huh? It’s just a tree.” Ak’ka rubbed at her chin as she considered the poem Ein mentioned, though. Using the arm of a giant didn’t sound like such a bad idea… she’d have to find one of those first, though. Maybe after they finished this wizard hunt here. It was a little disappointing that she couldn’t use the wizard’s arms as a weapon, though. They’d probably be way too scrawny and limp to be of any use as a weapon.

She continued this train of thought for probably far longer than any sane person would as she and Ein made their way through the Coldwoods. Everything was quiet… too quiet, Ak’ka thought. Weren’t there supposed to be animals and shit around here? But she didn’t see anything, not even the kind of animals you’d expect to see in a place like Frostgale.

Huh.

Ak’ka tucked the tree into a sling on her back any normal person might have kept on their back with the ease and efficiency one might expect of someone who’d used a tree as a makeshift weapon multiple times before. The action left her free to crack her knuckles in anticipation.

“So… you’re a smart person, yeah, dragonling? You know how these kinds of guys operate? Where should we start looking?”

As soon as that grin spreads across Ak'ka's face, some semblance of warmth settling into a face that had seemed so very cold up until now, Einheria's eyes take to sparkling all over again, joyous morning sunlight reflected in snowfall. Oh, she quite liked seeing that expression on her new friend's face-- it was a lovely sight, and to hear her offer a compliment in turn when harshness seemed to flow from Ak'ka's lips as naturally as breath... well, that, too, was lovely. A soft giggle leaves her at that, her whole face alight.

"Well, thank you very much," she says, so very sincerely, delight still glittering in her eyes. Some of that nervous tension melts from her body, her stance shifting into something far more natural as she continues to move, her hold on her lance still cautious, but nowhere near as white-knuckled as before. "I am happy you believe as much."

An indignant and rather inelegant squawk leaves her as soon as Ak'ka brushes her removal of an entire pine tree from the earth off so easily, as though anyone could wave "just a tree" around like it was nothing-- technically, such a thing was true. The pole of the very lance in Einheria's very hand was born from a tree-- pared down over and over and over again until it was perhaps merely a tenth of the size of a birch tree in circumference. She could swing it around fairly easily, with both hands. With technicalities in place, perhaps anyone could wield "just a tree" with such ease.

Just as quickly as the squawk leaves, a quiet giggle follows. Goodness, Ak'ka is such an interesting woman, isn't she?

Einheria's demeanor does quickly shift the further into the woods they venture, though-- it is unearthly silent out here, devoid of life, the very wind daring not to whisper between the branches of the trees around them. She may not be well-acquainted with the world, but oh, she knows that such a thing as this is unusual.

"...We are certainly on the right trail, to start," she begins, voice hushed, steps a bit more careful as she maneuvers around. "...These woods should not be so... silent. Even the wind is loath to slip through. I have no means of tracing magic at this current moment, but nature as is serves as a perfect guide."

She pauses briefly, glancing about, before lifting a hand to gesture toward a rather haphazard few piles of snow.

"...these, for instance," she begins. "Signs of human activity-- unnatural snow patterns... and footprints, behind them."

“Footprints, huh?” Despite her line of work, Ak’ka wasn’t really much for tracking. All this crap about nature being the guide was lost on her. But Ein seemed to know what she was doing, and spoke like she was educated and all, so Ak’ka would follow her lead. The half-orc turned her attention to the ground, scanning the snow for any signs of footprints around them. She glanced behind her, eyes narrowing when she saw a set of delicate little boot prints, the small kind that might belong to a real dainty wizard. Ak’ka tensed, seizing up as she whirled around, prepared for battle-

Oh, wait.

Those were just Ein’s.

Ak’ka’s face turned a darker shade of green as she rubbed at her nose, playing off her mistake. “I, uh, thought I saw a squirrel on that tree behind you. A real nasty lookin’ mean one. With sharp teeth. Thought it was gonna give you a run for yer money so I scared it off.”

Damn. Guess she wouldn’t be making a killing as a tracker any time soon.

Eh, it was just as well. All this walking and waiting for something to pop out was getting boring. Back in her day when she still went on raids, Ak’ka had different methods of drawing the enemy out. Sometimes there were walls you couldn’t climb or knock over and people you couldn’t reach guarded behind armies of warriors. In battles like that, you either had to cut your losses or find another way to get to them.

Ak’ka never cut her losses.

“Let me teach you somethin’ about a proper battle, Ein.” Ak’ka said after a long stretch of silence, where Ein looked like she was tryin’ real hard to listen to the wind or some other bullshit that would probably take a long time. “Sometimes in a fight you’ll encounter an enemy ya can’t reach, much less punch. In that case, what do you do?”

She waited a moment for Ein’s answer- she wanted to hear what the little lady thought. There were a lot of things Ak’ka wasn’t good at thinking about, but the flow of battle was a familiar old song she knew by heart, one that ran through her blood to the beat of her own pounding heart every time she set foot in an arena. It wasn’t a song you were born knowing- you learned it when you drew your first blood, emerged from your first fight victorious. Your first real fight. Not training. Not sparring. One with real stakes, where either you or your opponent is just as likely to end up dead.

Ak’ka remembered the day she first sang the song.

Today she had a feeling she was about to hear Ein’s for the first time.

She wanted to know how it sounded.

Ak’ka waited to hear Ein’s answer before crossing her arms and giving her own. “Back in my day we fought this real tough bastard, some brute who built walls of stone to keep us out. Archers on the top kept us from climbin’ it. So we did the only natural thing we could. We drew ‘em out by hitting them where it hurt. We burnt down their supply shipment, got the Chief angry enough to come down from his castle and deal with me himself. And then I pushed him off a cliff!” She let out a roar of raucous laughter before letting out an exaggerated sigh, wiping a fake tear from her eye. “Man, good memories. But what I’m sayin’ is, if we can’t find this morherfucker, we gotta bring him to us. You get me?”

For all her daintiness and proneness to bouts of panic, for all the mysteries of the wild world around her, foreign and strange as she wanders through it, as Ak'ka mentions even the possibility of some eldritch squirrel lurking in these hallowed woods, no fear touches Einheria's face. Instead, those lavender eyes alight with interest, morbid curiosity and perhaps even a touch of disappointment dawning over her as she searches aimlessly through the branches of the trees, finding no traces of a fanged squirrel in sight.

"Oh, I have never heard of such a creature," she sighs wistfully, a hand rising to her cheek. Truly, what a loss! She's read of all sorts of wild and strange monsters, and to find a squirrel capable of murder would be so exciting! "Oh, Ak'ka, imagine if we had been the first to uncover a hostile squirrel...! 'Tis a shame it startled so easily..."

Perhaps they'll encounter it again later. Perhaps. There are more pressing matters, though, and she knows she should be saving her thoughts for the wizard they are hunting and not for creatures of the woods-- they are here on a mission, and she would be loath to fail to carry it out. She's about to start wandering around the snowdrifts, searching for a trail, picking through for more signs of the foul wizard they are here to pursue, but that's when Ak'ka lays forth her question, and Einheria swivels on her feet, pausing as it weighs on her.

An enemy she can't reach...?

She thinks of glorious war in the poems she's read, of sieges, of gambits and tricks made to draw out enemies who will not yield. There are countless ways to do it, but they call for courage, for a gamble, for laying your life forth on a line and praying the metaphorical fish may bite, seizing the bait--

...

"...I lack your stalwart strength, Ak'ka," she says honestly, because it is true-- she is hardly some wilting maiden, hardly some fragile glass statue, but she is a nimble lady, her fighting more like dancing than anything. She cannot raise tree from earth or shatter bone the way Ak'ka might, not in this tiny human body. "But I know better than to believe I am inherently at a disadvantage for that reason. When I have not the physical capability to reach a foe, I have wit, and I must draw them to me, and if I must play the part of some delicate, ailing creature for the sake of bringing them to my battlefield, then so be it. A venomous spider must trap her prey before she bites."

Einheria speaks clearly, carefully, weighing her words, falling silent as soon as she has made her point, listening carefully as Ak'ka speaks in turn. It is as expected-- Ak'ka is a storm spun into a wall of a woman, strong and capable of taking instead of waiting for her opponents to give. A tiny smile settles on her face as the conversation continues, nodding slowly as soon as they seem to come to the same conclusion.

"So we must bring this wizard to us, then," she says simply, nodding. "Ak'ka, if you wish for me to somehow draw out this wizard so you may make a strike... I am more than amenable. Or we could burn down his tower, should we find it...! Either one is good, though I lack a spark of flame in my body!"

“Nah, hostile squirrels are all over the place. You can find just about anything in the wild.” Ak’ka couldn’t resist messing with Ein a little. She’d been an only child, but something about Ein’s nervous disposition and quiet strength had grown on her. She almost imagined this was what having a little sister was like. “My family and I used to hunt rabid squirrels and any kind of monster you can think of. I once fought the abominable snowman, too.”

Her tone was teasing as she said that last part, but Ein would be surprised to learn that she was being dead serious. She had a bunch of stories like that. One for each scar on her body, and if you got her going over drinks she’d regale you with each and every one. Maybe it seemed sad to other people, but to Ak’ka, there was nothing to life but fighting. That was all it had to be, because if there was anything else out there for her, she’d yet to find it. Which meant that this had to be her only calling, her reason for still moving.

From birth to death it was what she would do, whether she passed away peacefully of old age or perished in war.

Something in Ein shifted after Ak’ka’s lesson- something in the air that Ak’ka couldn’t place but felt nonetheless. It was the ice-cold feeling of revenge, the cold in her pink eyes reflected in Ak’ka’s own as she thought about what Ak’ka had said and proposed a plan of her own.

A damsel in distress trap.

“That seems like the best idea.” She didn’t exactly have the materials to start a fire like she used to do, and she lacked the army behind her that she would have once had. She was no longer Ak’ka Mortak, Bonegrinder, Leader of One Hundred Men, Commander of the World’s Crown. She was no longer in charge of the resources she once had. She was just Ak’ka, and she was forced to adapt. “I ain’t exactly got the looks to play that part myself.” She looked down at herself, all coiled muscle and pure strength and twisting scars that almost resembled the roots of a tree- yeah, for her, princess wasn’t happening.

But it did give her an idea. A wicked one.

“How ‘bout this- you’re some noble lady in distress, and I’ll play the part of some thug robbing you and beating you up. Guy’s gotta have a heart black as pitch if he’s got the gumption to ignore someone as little and adorable as you getting attacked.”

It was a good a plan as any, with the resources they had to work with. Ak’ka pulled her tree off her back, raising it expectantly, as if she was about to swing it, but there was no malice directed in her eyes as she stared down at Ein. “Don’t worry. I ain’t actually gonna hit ya.” She stage-whispered with an attempt at a wink. For her, that was something more of an awkward double-blink and the twitch of her cheek. “We just need to make it look real.”

Just about anything in the wild?

Einheria lets out a short, musing hum at that, lips pursed in contemplation as she thinks the information Ak'ka has presented to her over; goodness, if hostile squirrels were a creature that freely wandered the world, then what other strange and feral creatures walked beside them? How many splendid oddities that she had been made to believe were the stuff of fiction truly prowled the soil-and-sea earth beyond her father's home? Oh, she will have to make note of this...! She's never read a thing about a hostile squirrel, but she's heard of an abominable snowman before, at least!

For as sharp and shielded as Ak'ka had been in the seconds of their first conversation, it is... lovely to see her warm just so, even if it is more the gentle melting of snow than it is the eruption of flame. Though Einheria is a capable fighter, and both of them have some degree of awareness of this fact, it is nice to feel a little looked after as she navigates a world so unfamiliar, and to yet be regarded as an equal all the same. It is refreshing and delightful and it sends a flood of joy over Einheria's heart.

"You will have to tell me that story sometimes, perhaps, if you are willing," she says honestly, smiling softly up at Ak'ka, pale eyes light with interest over every story the taller woman could have to tell her. Storytelling is her lifeblood, the thing that has sustained her for centuries of life, that has quenched a curiosity that could not be sated in a frozen, cavernous carapace. Fairy tales and fables and folklore have carried her this far-- the tales of a friend shall carry her further. "I am quite fond of stories."

But now is hardly the time for such things, for fact or fiction, for talk of what might come after; now, they are setting a trap, and Einheria is all too happy to be the bait.

She lets out a quiet giggle at the plan Ak'ka devises, perhaps giggling a bit more so at Ak'ka's attempt at a wink, but her expression shifts into a serious one rather quickly. She moves her hand to pull at the ribbons holding her braid together, unraveling the satin fabric and shaking loose a cascade of snow-white hair, nimbly working her fingertips through it to give it the look of dishevelment. She sinks to her knees in the snow, scooping handfuls of it over herself and brushing it over her cloak, her hair, her cheek, quick to bury her lance in the snow beside her, as well.

In a moment, she truly looks the picture of a disheveled noble maiden, caught in a rough spot in the midst of the snowy woods. She lets out a soft sigh, closing her eyes before shaping her expression into one of fear, brow pinched upward, eyes wide, face drained of color, hands clutching the edges of her cloak around her as though it could shield her from the onslaught she is feigning dodging from.

Briefly, she smiles, whispering: "...As they say in theatre, Ak'ka: break a leg. Just make sure it is his."

And then Einheria lets out an ear-shattering scream.