in continuing his new practice for maintaining knowledge of the lands outside of his own, stigmata wandered gratefully into the cool, welcoming shadows of sunbeam lair. his dark spine felt scorched from an overlong stint in the sun, and the rest of him felt about as stiff and ready to crumble as pie crust. he had spent too long observing the borders that belied the lands on either side of this cavernous depression, and now he retired listlessly to the bedside of a stagnating pond.
after slaking his thirst, the former dragoon peered suspiciously around him, tersely inspecting his surroundings as late afternoon turned to evening in that deep, dark place; its shades drawing on him slowly.
Backdated a bit to when she was still on Mt. Apikuni, if you don’t mind. If you DO mind, just PM me and I’ll have staff delete this post.
Grezig was not entirely sure what brought her back to this place. The last time she’d been here, she had been verbally assaulted by a madman and had quickly left. Besides, the foliage here was strange and alien and this whole cave made her feel uncomfortable, as if she had stepped into another world. And yet… she found that her paws had dragged her back, as if pulled by an invisible string. As unusual as this place was, as edgy as it made her feel, there was something here that interested her. Perhaps she simply hated that a place, as opposed to a real threat, like a bear, could cause her such uneasiness. Perhaps she had to prove to herself that she could stand in this place and feel nothing at all.
And here, again, was another wolf. Strange… Grezig could simply not imagine that many wolves would frequent a place like this. Feeling a little on edge already, she chuffed a greeting and continued standing. She watched the male for signs of insanity, not wanting to take her chances since the last time she’d been here.
as he suspected, stigmata was not alone. his lusterless gaze took in his company as she called him; his eyes fixing her with the dark, wizened stare of a wolf who had seen and done many things. he took her cordiality at face value -- though it tempered his reaction to her presence -- and since he was smart enough not to lounge in front of strangers, the male got heavily to his feet. he appeared a touch haggard, but beneath the hunter's weary facade was a warhound bladed and prepared.
still, the basilisk was ever discontent with his loneliness; it was easier to only have himself to worry about in a moment's stretch, but in the end of things solitude always left him bored and restless more than anything. stigmata fell into a gargoyle-like stillness -- uninviting to some: with his head bowed beneath tall, arcing shoulders and a dominant aura permeating the air around him even despite his drooping stance. acknowledging her own bid for attention, he beckoned the earthy she-wolf forward with a soft, inviting twitch of his tail.
The male said nothing, his gaze finding hers silently. He rose to his paws at her presence and she noted the heaviness of the action, as if he were tired or too heavy. He then sat on his haunches in front of her, silent as ever, and thumped his tail behind him. She saw this and relaxed a bit. At least he was friendly, if not very talkative—not that that bothered her. In her previous life with her parents and her siblings, she had not spoken much. Most communication had been achieved through body language or short sounds—growls, barks, etc. Grezig was comfortable in silence, but silence could not convey her name.
She stepped forward so that they were in comfortable speaking distance and then she, too, sat down. “I am Grezig,” she said, dipping her head in greeting. There was something about this wolf that she really liked—a level of immediate respect for his imposing stature and heavy silence. He reminded her of… herself, perhaps? Or maybe her father?
even with his face drained of expression, stigmata seemed somehow pleased by the stranger's demeanor. she was no quivering whelp letting curiosity best her, nor did she carry herself with an arrogance fit only for the irreproachable. his approval of her was in his eyes -- the drab pair of silver-grey dollops set deep in his smoky countenance -- and the dragon's stare was relentlessly ravishing; swallowing her whole and calling her ever nearer. smartly she chose to sit within conversational distance, and though he had thought her brave enough to close the distance between them, he was satisfied enough by her caution and intelligence.
when her scent hit him better, the male lifted his nose and extended it curiously in her direction, taking in what he could of her from their separate seats. he immediately thought it was a shame she had been claimed already -- as he smelled a collection of others tacked on to her natural perfume -- and because he had already been chastised by indra for letting his face reveal too much of his inner thoughts, stigmata made an effort not to appear disappointed. "grezig," he repeated in his low, enveloping voice, tasting her name with a swipe of his tongue over silvered lips. "i am called stigmata."
and if only because she had been the one to first call him to attention, he slipped into silence once more and perked his ears at her in an expectant fashion.
Grezig took the initiative to sniff at the male in return, since he had done so to her. She smelled others on him, a pack. How disappointing. She disregarded the thought the moment she thought it. She did not know this male and had been wrong about her first impressions before (Thorleif). “What pack do you belong to?” she asked. She probably would not know the name if he gave it, but at least she would glean some information that she could bring back to her own group.
Sorry for this shit post. Muse has been lacking for days and I’m tired right now, but I didn’t want to leave this hanging anymore.
he regarded her straightforward question with a long instant in which he considered how to respond. having come from a very large pack, stigmata had never known any reservation about telling outsiders with who and where he stayed; except, he was not there now, and with bearclaw it was vastly different. they were not an immense or warbred pack -- many of them were puppies -- so what advantage, if any, would there be in revealing anything at all about his home?
it took the hunter a only a breath to decide he wasn't afraid.
"bearclaw valley," he told her, though made no indication to where this pack might be. his dim-silver eyes never left her: the hale virago, grezig.
"and yourself?"
you're fine! i understand <3
Stigmata took his time answering her question, but Grezig had seemingly unlimited patience. She said nothing as she waited for his answer, and was rewarded with, as she had thought might happen, a name she did not recognize. Bearclaw Valley. Hmm. He then asked her what pack she belonged to. She hesitated, unsure of what to tell him. Sensing no threat from him, she decided on the truth, since there wasn’t much to tell to begin with.
“My group has no name currently. We’re… not an official pack yet, but we’re looking for a territory to claim.” She wasn’t sure what else to tell him after this, especially since he had not offered all that much information himself. So, she went back to watching him.
Closing this. <3
He did not have anything else to say, however, and, still feeling uncomfortable in this strange cave, she dismissed herself politely and left.
[Exit.]