[html]
Sorry it's insanely long. D:
Valinta had, in the storm, lost a child, gained a deep friendship, gained a child, and gotten injured. The female did not know whether she'd be able to dance ever again without pain in her leg, but at least it wasn't an injury that would cripple her for life. If her ankle had been injured instead of her thigh, then not only would the female have been devestated, she would have never been able to do one of the things she loved most.
Dancing had been her life once, a way to escape the horrors and nightmares of her past, a way to look to a brighter future. It was a way for the female to lose herself in something she loved and get away from herself and from the problems she had. But Valinta had matured dramatically in the short time she had joined a pack and found her lover. She had been broken, but only to be forged stronger.
The loss of her child killed her, it did. But it allowed her to have a space for her son, her little foundling. Gunnar would have died without her finding him, just as his mother had. Everything that she had done or that had affected her was interconnected. Valinta could trace her proud lineage back generations and years and years, but only on one side. Her father's side had originated from Russia and Dacia, springing forth with great strength and aptitude to survive from those harsh steppes, and lived in a place that was, in human times, known for it's great power.
And Valinta, who proudly lived her life quietly and serenely, could live in a manner that she was never able to when she was young. She could be anonymous, and she could follow a career that she wished instead of having to live in her ancestral home, the Russian princess. Her father's pretty pet bird. Ptichka was all she was to him, a little bird that he could see in her cage every day, and through her dance, he could hear her sing her sad songs of her longing for freedom.
But the cage had been broken long ago, and the bird had flown away. It was a beautiful occasion for her, coming to the Northern America. Then, more specifically, to Canada, where she lived in peace. In the city of Halifax, she had begun the search to identify who she was. With her native language of Russian, she could easily trace her paternal lineage, but could not with her maternal.
Her knowledge stopped at Gloria Inkfur, the albino woman taken forcibly from her trip in Spain to become, eventually, Valinta's mother, where she died. The pack that she had come from, the Inkfur lineage and pack, lived in Russia, true, but it had originated in England. True to their nature, they spoke and wrote in English more often then they did Russian. And so their familial lines were documented in English, a language Valinta could not read.
The woman sighed as she limped in the forests near the border, preferring to be outside in the cold she was more used to then inside. Valinta held onto a tree and rubbed her aching leg, which was healing slowly but surely. It had been checked and it had been cared for. It just needed time to get better. Valinta had time, that was all she really had. Her home had been destroyed in the storm, like the homes of a few others.
Though the leg would be weaker then it was before, and though it would cause her pain in the future, Valinta had high hopes for herself. She was a mother, and would be mated to a man she loved in the future, hopefully, and though she had been injured many times, and bore scars to show it, she remained strong. The woman could only hope that her strength would remain true, as it always had.
Valinta, leaning into the tree, smelled the air delicately, in her calm manner. Rubbing one of the three large scars that ran down her back to her belly, she smelled a wolf of a different pack then she. But who was she to do anything against someone meaning her harm? At this point in time, Valinta was effectively a cripple. So she would do as she did best. Be kind.
"Hello." she said sedately, loud enough for her voice to carry to the other woman she scented. It was calm, and it was kindly. A way of speaking that she often had, and a way effectively made to cause peace.
[/html]
