Milyausha followed her much larger companions into the sturdy looking structure her friends explained was a pace for visitors to rest. Mil's eyes roamed the room when she entered, somewhat overwhelmed with the size of the place. To her people, such a building would be a true extravagance. She had seen permanent dwellings, even entered a few before, but never one so large. Amongst her people while several clans had begun establishing permanent dwellings, most homes were still the simple rounded yurts similar to those most of the nomadic steppe peoples favored.<br/><br/>She noted the number of other peoples in the dwelling, women and men, some freemen, some servants. She noticed first a young woman, dressed in the seemingly overlarge clothes of a boy, her blonde hair pulled back in a tail. Milyausha noted the pouch the girl wore on her belt, it seemed well cared for, almost more so than her clothes.<br/><br/>Soon she noticed another woman, this one dressed in what seemed like the scraps of furs sewn together in an outfit that looked too large for the thin woman. She did carry a spear though, one that semed as if it had seen better days. That made Milyausha smile, she too favored the spear, though hers was of fine quality, well cared for and with a tip of iron. The woman though did have at least one odd looking weapon, she made herself a mental note to ask about that later.<br/><br/>Lastly she took note of a pair of norsefolk who seemed to both share a flame colored hair. Milyausha had never seen hair in that shade before and openly stared a few moments before one of her companions nudged her, whispered in her ear and laughed. Mil frowned and turned her gaze away from the strangers and returned her attention back to her friends who were exchanging stories of their trip, making grandiose boasts about their prowess - on and off the battlefield, and discussing future plans.<br/><br/>"Remember when we saved our little Sister here?" remarked one of the men. "Surrounded wasn't she? Sure to be carried off!"<br/><br/>"To be a wash servant! Even the savages on the plains wouldn't have her!" Another man threw in, laughing.<br/><br/>Milyausha glared at the man and spoke, "Now I know why you must carry off your women and keep them drunk with your mead. None would lower themselves to sleep with a whoreson like you otherwise."<br/><br/>The second man's eyes hardend for a moment before he cracked into a huge grin and peals of laughter filled the hall. "Good Little Sister!" The one name Gautirr said, clapping her on the back in approval. "I remember our first meeting. She had killed three men who sought to down her, and a fourth was missing a hand. Fought like a cornered wolf she did and had we not arrived, she might have killed them all and saved no sport for us!"<br/><br/>Milyausha grinned proudly at the boasting of her prowess in a fight and shook her head, sending her loose straight hair shaking about her head, "No, no. Without you all I would have fallen. And for your arrival, I give my thanks to Tangra," she said, one hand reaching for a small bronze amulet of a bird that hung from her neck.<br/><br/>Her companions hoisted their mugs and drank again, laughing amongst themselves and beginning to talk of other moments on their journey. Milyausha herself though found her attention once again returning to the others here in the building, her eyes shifting slowly from one to the other of the four she had noticed earlier...<br/><br/><br/>