Aging was a dreadful bother, but not one which petrified the she-wolf in the way it caused many Mortals to. As long as she could sustain her pack, and as long as a soak in a hot spring would help to alleviate any burgeoning pain in her body, Alvina would be satisfied. A small loss of efficiency in either of those tasks was perhaps to be expected, even if she disliked it. Regardless, a need to rectify some mild aches blossoming in her joints was what had ultimately caused her to descend from the forested throne that was the Naihan Mountains in favor of travelling northward. Having left her pack to their own devices for a few days, knowing absolutely that they’d respect her directives, she’d set off in her dark, wolven form.

Of course, nearing the land of the Immortals, she was no so stupid as to maintain that body. For a century the war had been over, but that did not mean that resentment was any less decreased between the Werebeasts and the Immortals. Happening upon a rural farm, snatching some plain clothing from a clothesline, she had donned the simple skirt and peasant blouse to finish the duration of her trip. The pads of her feet were long since hardened, used to the mountainous, rocky terrain of the crags she called home, and so in the last miles to the hot springs, she was unbothered with the ideas of shoes.

Upon arriving at the springs, and also uncaring of any wayward eyes in her proximity, Alvina had promptly thrown the skirt and blouse aside, and eased herself into the steamy warmth of the hot-spring waters. Resting her head on the nearest ledge, her darkly-lashed eyelids falling closed, she sat undisturbed… until the sound of another lowering themselves into the waters nearby caught her attention. She did not move, merely listening. It did not sound as though the new arrival was moving any closer. 

Narrowing her eyes, she shifted to peer around from the small pool she’d isolated herself in, before she found the source of the sound. At once, she leaned up against the rock, propping herself on her elbows and only barely obscuring her breasts. The form of the man was spread-eagled, afloat, and entirely relaxed as he seemed to enjoy the water.

“Long time no see, Obe.” A delighted, wolfish smile briefly flashed across her face, before it was replaced with a milder look. “I didn’t realize this would be a place you’d see fit to visit.”

As the Elder Dragon yawned and shifted himself to properly regard her, Alvina did not move. She merely watched him with the same kindled warmth, the same recognition, of someone seeing a family member. His approached, punctuated by eyes studying her face, caused the faintest smile to linger on her lips.

“The wolf-queen is aging, my dear.” Watching the water droplets splash near her with a brief glint of amusement in her eye, she rolled a shoulder as if to punctuate her statement. “Not even the most gifted healer or magic user can stop aging, or at least, not from what I’ve seen. The waters help with the burden of it though.”

Her eyes, like dark obsidian chips, seemed to examine him briefly, watching the way his hair slipped through the water, before skimming over the panes of his chest, and finally settling on his face. “I can’t say the same about you. You don’t look like you aged a day since the time I saw you last. How is time treating you, dear?” Time. Such a question, particularly to an Elder Dragon, must’ve seemed such an inconsequential thing to consider. Or perhaps it wasn’t. She had only seen him perhaps one other time in the last century since the peace had settled over the land, since she’d freed him not long thereafter. After so long in the confines of his cage before then… perhaps he had a renewed appreciation. None of those thoughts were any she’d taken much time to discuss with him previously to truly know for certain.

As Obelisk drew closer, she lowered herself further into the spring from the perch she’d taken, arms absently settling beneath her chin as she rested it on the ledge.

Alvina’s smile was small, and something of a glimmer of pride shown in her eyes at his remark. Less lonely, but not necessarily less alone. She didn’t like getting too caught up thinking of the loss… Thinking of the empty chasm which she had carried in her heart for over a century. The Goddess… She was not fair. And with that thought, she was once again reminded of that approaching time of year. But regardless, that didn’t mean that life didn’t go on, or that Alvina did not seek to contribute her part as she did being the Alpha of the pack. “I have many that rely on me now. The pack grows at least one or two a year. It’s quite different than it was after the war.”

Tilting her head, she watched the relaxed expression linger on his features even as he spoke with a sense of assuredness heavy in his words. It was his next question that caused a type of tightness to cross her features, before she seemed to smooth them out of sheer will. “We bicker with Immortals and others at times, but there hasn’t been any conflict of great bloodshed for a time now. No children still, of course, aside from the Pack. I keep my head up and allot my time to caring for them.” The sound of a small water ripple as she shrugged. “The Anniversary of my Mate’s passing is next month. There’s not much else to share that aside, I’m afraid.”

After a moment of silence, a small, gruff chuckle sounded from the back of her throat. The sound was not amused. “What of you? Have you come across any others of your kind in the last century?”

“Not as much as I should, perhaps.” Her concession came gently, though she was entirely the type to believe with absolute certainty that if one wanted something done properly, they should do it themselves. That wasn’t to say she didn’t love or trust her pack members. The fact of the matter was that Alvina had always been brutally independent. That characteristic had at one time or another been a point of argument, particularly in her younger years when she and her mate had only begun their journey together. He had never liked her always trying to go it alone… Over time, she mused, especially since his passing she seemed to have merely surrounded herself with people who were more inclined to letting her carry the burdens as she sought to.

At his soft sigh, Alvina found herself focusing in on his words. A life of extermination, danger, and solitude. In a way, Werebeasts had been persecuted similarly. Never to the same extent however. Hearing him describe, she was reminded of similar sentiments she had had decades previous. What a life he lead. “How many Dragons existed back when you were young? I presume there are what, less than a hundred in all the land now. Or fewer even…?” Her voice held sympathy, perhaps the smallest hint of apology, but also an appreciation for the life that was so far distant she could scarcely imagine it.

Alvina made a small sound of acknowledgement in the back of her throat, the sounding coming as something akin to a growl. It was something so characteristic of her, especially as she tilted her head to regard him at the dismissal. In a way, she wondered if the dragon longed for companionship. She didn’t imagine dragons had ever had quite the pack mentality of the Werebeasts, but it did seem likely that not knowing even the number of one’s population might feel… isolating. “That’s unfortunate that you can’t know. I hope that changes one day.” That comment was the only one the she-wolf could offer; it was something akin to hope.

The question that her old rescuee followed up with caused her to respond in a tone that made it very apparent that she had thought of exactly that. And that it didn’t please her. “I’ve thought of it. Then dismissed it. I’m spry enough for now. There’s a hierarchy of sorts in how we run things, but I haven’t yet found anyone who is…” Her lips twisted into a dry, sardonic smile. “Responsible enough. I’m the one that tends to deal with that enough for all of us. Perhaps one day though.”

The she-wolf shifted, stretching out an arm until her shoulder produced a small, audible popping sound. She was just about to do the other when the softness of the breeze seemed to bring a scent to her nose. Nostrils flaring, her eyes narrowed in thought. “Someone is approaching.”

[Feel free to throw in whatever NPC you feel like!]

Her laughter was dry, and she actually shook her head. “Large paw prints, eh? You flatter me. I’d like to think that if something happened, they’d be able to sort themselves out with the principles I put in place without too much stumbling. But at the same time…” She did take in a lot of strays. That much was well known, and Alvina could easily see how that might’ve been a potential cause for issues. Of course, she didn’t think that needed stated plainly. And to do so would’ve been to openly acknowledge, to feed any doubt. She shrugged, her smile modest as she dismissed her thought. “You know.”

Alvina’s lip had quirked ever so slightly as he attempted to flick her with water droplets again, though not long after she had spoken of the new arrival. Listening herself, her eyes fixed on his form, she actually extended a hand when he growled. Only then did her eyes travel to the form and the mule. Her fingers gently pressed over his knuckles as a soft sound, almost akin to a soothing purr, sounded low in her throat. “So be it. I will handle it if he tries to steal from us.” She murmured, her eyes lingering on the stocky form before reverting to his. Her hand shifted then, a little more insistent as it lazily drew back and forth along his forearm in a soothing, motherly gesture.

Alvina merely calmly shook her head, though in some recess of her mind the acknowledgement of the power so barely contained in his human body did cause her some wariness. In that sense, though, he was not all that different than a Werebeast. Much more powerful and certainly much larger, yes, but still feared for his secondary form. “Not every individual of every race amounts to what the rest are known for.”

She slowly dropped her hand, though she shifted to rest her face on the stone a little nearer to him. Watching. Alert. “You know as well as I do that killing him for what he is would be little different than killing a Werebeast for our role in the war. Or little different than humans and others seeking to exterminate your people.” A small headshake that case water droplets from her hair. “None of those things should be done.”

Her eyes flicked briefly to the dwarf, lingering on him, before setting back to Obelisk. Studying his face, and the panes of muscle beneath the skin of his back as a thought came to mind. It had been a long, long time since she had seen his form. His other one, if she ever had. And thinking of that made her wonder how the twisting of his muscles might resemble wings. All at once, that seemed like a decent distraction. “You know.” Her voice was low, and a brief smile crossed her lips. “I do wish I might understand the magnificence of flying.”