Neverwinter Forest My Fifty-Mission Cap
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Ooc — Jess
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Joining 
@Mal @Simmik I CAN'T HALP IT. I would love to have him join NWF- if he makes the cut :D

As if his generally sombre attitude wasn't dreary enough, while left to his own devices, Mother Nature had seen fit to keep him soaked through to the bone for 90 days straight. Well, perhaps it hadn't been that long- but it certainly felt like it. The weather did not help to brighten his mood, and he found himself wandering in circles, despite his best attempts to simply drift. That was how he worked best, wasn't it? On his own, wandering, with no real destination in mind, never visiting the same place twice...

...Until he found himself doing exactly that. Perhaps it was because he wondered if he actually had a shot with one of the ladies who'd met him at the borders...Or perhaps it was because he honestly wanted to see what had become of Aibreann...Maybe he simply wanted to belong somewhere, and Neverwinter Forest was the only pack that hadn't chased him away within minutes of his introduction. Not a lot of packs were willing to put up with his sense of humour, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Surely, not every pack in the world was so intolerant...Right?

He'd managed to charm three pack members into a game of bobstones- and had left on what he believed were relatively good terms, and of his own volition. It was odd, to have such little drama accompany him, for once...So he fund his way back, in hopes of tempting fate once more, but this time, he decided he might chance being a little bit more...Behaved. And so, as respectfully as he could, he sat just beyond the borders as quiet as a sleeping cat, waiting for opportunity to strike once more.
I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
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Ooc — hela
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#2
there are some big plot things happening that i have to be vague about right now because the important threads are still happening, so sorry!
ty for throwing him at nwf again, though! sorry about the other joining thread! i'll make this one my top priority <3


Today was the first day she pulled herself from inside the cave she had made her own since returning home. She hadn't eaten or talked to anyone because even the most ordinary tasks seemed overwhelming and exhausting. But today, she had forced herself out into the cloudy day; it wasn't in her nature to dwell, and she finally just needed to get out. Normally she might go exploring outside the territory, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Even the thought of patrolling near the borders made anxiety flare in her chest, but she needed to something, and patrolling had always been a way for her work through things and find some peace. Her hope was that she would fine some today because she was in desperate need of it. Her head wound still looked angry and would take some time to heal fully, but at least she wasn't plagued with headaches today, which would make her walk a little more enjoyable. 

Luckily, the first part of her patrol was blissfully boring. She was able to go through the motions and fall into some semblance of her old reality. She didn't mind the rain. In fact, she liked how it kept things cooler, and so she tried to concentrate on the cool drizzle on her fur or the scents of her pack whenever she caught her mind wandering to the dark places. 

Her moment of peace was short lived, though. She caught the scent of a stranger near the borders, and her heart began to race. She silently cursed at herself for the reaction. This was her job and she shouldn't respond that way. With a steadying breath, she continued forward until she saw the familiar man sitting quietly near the edge of their territory. She might have normally had some witty remark or playful insult for him, but she just couldn't bring forth the energy to do any of that right now. Instead, she stopped in front of him and raised an eyebrow. You're back? she said, half question and half statement. She wouldn't humor him with games this time, so she hoped he would just get to the point. Do you need something?
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YAAAAAssssss I caught a Simmik <3 Nar worries- Jackalope's never terribly interested in anything but himself so everything that happens outside of this thread can be pretty vague.

Secretly, he'd hoped- and had half-assumed- that he might lure one of the three women he'd met on his previous visit to the Forest. Generally, his luck with strangers was much worse than his luck with wolves who'd already met him (and tolerated him) so he was both relieved and pleased to catch sight of a familiar form approaching him. He gave her a cheeky smile when he saw what he assumed was the moment she recognized him- but out of the three women he'd met, Simmik had been much more difficult to read. He'd left feeling that she might not have tolerated him, had the other two not been so inclined to humour his antics...But still. She'd tolerated him once, perhaps she would give him the same grace again. 

"I am. Couldn't stay away," He said, trying to swoon slightly, though his attempt would've likely seemed somewhat dry. Simmik had seemed somewhat immune to his charms when he'd met her last, so he didn't have much hope of catching her fancy this time around either. She also seemed to be all business- which seemed to confirm his earlier thought. Simmik had likely only allowed his tomfoolery last time because Vallkyrie and Valencia were playful. "Came back to join, actually." He said. "Did I make a good enough impression last time, or should I go over the whole 'these are my skills' spiel again?" He asked, though there was a certain amount of honesty to his tone- if Simmik needed him to proclaim himself worthy, he certainly would.
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Ooc — hela
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His half-hearted attempt at swooning would be met with blank look. The thought of being involved in any type of flirting made her skin crawl, and she was honestly trying not to snarl at him over it. She knew her reaction wasn't normal and had she been more like herself, she would have offered him something snarky right back. So she swallowed the intense feeling and waited for her insides to calm back down before speaking. 

in the meantime, Jackalope started speaking again, stating that he had actually come back to join their pack, which she guessed wasn't too surprising since his sister was here, along with his niece and nephews, although she was certain he didn't even know about them. She hadn't informed him last time that Aibreann was pregnant, so how would he know? Unless he ran into someone else who might have told him. But his question—she hadn't answered it. You never told us your skills last time, unless flirting and playing games are all you have to offer, she pointed out flatly. As for his impression, he hadn't really made much of one on the Beta. From what she could remember, all he had shown was his inability to take things seriously, which was not always a bad thing, but in that situation, it was important.
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Simmik's comment caused him to laugh- but it was a dry and brittle sound that fell away when he realized she wasn't trying to be funny. He suppressed his chortle and simply made as though he'd been trying to clear his throat...Smoothe recovery, Jackie. He sat up a bit straighter, then, as though to present himself as more of an asset though the taller her sat, the more thin and angular he looked. If he'd only had longer ears, he might've looking a very large jackrabbit; his narrow physique and bobbed tail definitely fit the bill, anyhow. 

"I'm a good hunter, and an excellent scout; You won't find one with a better sense of direction than me- nor will you find one that'll cover distance as quickly as I can." He boasted, and for once in his life, he actually looked as though he fit some sort of a role. With his lean body and long legs, he was built for both speed and endurance, carrying as little excess weight as possible, and sporting muscle that was as lean as it could possibly be. "The sense of humour and charm are merely....Perks." He grinned.
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He didn't cover his laugh up well at all, and she watched the motion with hidden interest; she wondered if she would ever feel good enough again to laugh at something. She mentioned nothing of it, though, and he seemed to recover quickly, straightening up and taking on a more serious air. 

He stated that he could hunt and scout, both of which were valuable traits to have. She might have to challenge his claim at being able to cover distance faster than anyone else if she decided to let him in and if she ever felt up to it; she was intrigued regardless. With his last comment, she was struck with the urge to tease him, which was surprising considering she hadn't felt the urge to do much of anything but sleep the last few days. So she raised an eyebrow, expressing more than she had throughout their entire meeting. We'll see about that, she offered. But then the moment was gone as quickly as it had arrived, and she was back to business. Hunting and scouting are useful skills to have, Simmik continued. I'd be willing to give you a chance to prove yourself, she said after a brief pause in which she studied his face curiously. 

If I find out that your sister doesn't want you here, though, then you won't be welcome anymore. She paused, wondering if she should tell him the next part but ultimately decided to go ahead. She had children just a few months ago. Three sons and a daughter. Thought you might like to know that.
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"We'll see about that." With that comment, Jackalope knew that he was in. She was giving him a chance, then- some time to prove himself, and he felt a funny feeling growing in his chest...Something akin to pride, but without arrogance. He hadn't felt true gratitude in so long he didn't realize that that was what he was feeling, but he nevertheless recognized it as a positive feeling, and gave her a wink and a nod, to show his appreciation. When she mentioned his sister, he laughed softly. 

"Trust me. If my sister doesn't want me here, I'll be turfed before you even notice I'm gone." He admitted. Blackthorns could be a strong-willed bunch...Aibreann's chosen name was "Glee," but he knew that not all of the Blackthorns necessarily matched up with their chosen names 100% of the time. "Regardless, I dread the thought of messing up and sullying your good name, Simmik." He said. After all- she was the one who'd made the call to allow him to join the pack, so he knew that if he let her down...Well, he felt certain she'd make sure he regretted it. 

"Now. Anything I ought to know, as a scout, about Neverwinter Forest and any of the other packs in the area?" He asked. As a scout, after all, he would have to be mindful of the relationships between one pack and the next, and preferred to find out the easy way, which areas to potentially avoid.
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Good she said curtly as he promised that he wouldn't cause trouble for her or for his sister. I'll hold you to that. And she was serious; she didn't like liars or wolves that broke their promises. 

His next question was a good one, and Simmik thought it showed that he was dedicated to proving himself. She nodded. There is a pack in the mountains to the east called The Saints of the Dying Light, she started. Things are tense between us—between them and our allies as well, so try to stay clear of them. Simmik continued. The wolves of Yuèlóng are our allies; their pack normally resides on the coast, but they're staying here with us while the storms continue. She paused to think. Moonspear is in the mountains to the west; things with them are...complicated, but they are not our enemies currently, she said next. Then she paused again, seeming to have trouble with her next words. And there is a wolf— she paused to swallow against the turning of her stomach. He's roaming around attacking others, she looked away and swallowed again, forcing her expression to stay neutral. So just be careful while you're out exploring. She pinned him with a serious gaze then, hoping he wouldn't blow off her warning. 

When she had composed herself, she added: Oh and make sure you introduce yourself to Mal; he's the Alpha.
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He wasn't expecting quite so much information regarding the possibility of dangerous encounters, but he did have to snort and whip his head back when she mentioned the name of an apparently dangerous pack. "'Saints of the Dying Light,' gawd, you have to be kidding me. That name gets them negative points for fascetiousness alone," He drawled, though he nodded to show that he'd gotten the point. Regardless of how ridiculous their pack name was, he'd avoid them. They sounded like a bunch of ego-maniacs anyway, calling themselves Saints. 

He reminded himself to avoid Moonspear. If things were dicey now, he doubted he'd be able to help. He recalled having visited there once- but was confronted by far too many strong, warrior-looking type wolves so he'd bailed...So it likely wasn't the best place for him to go and show his face again. 

Of all the notes she gave him, though, it seemed the most troublesome one would be the loner, not the other pack. He gazed at her for a moment, but decided not to pry into questions he ought not be asking. Sometimes, on rare moments like this, he could exercise just a bit of tact. "D'you know what he looks like?" He asked, just in case he should spot the offending fellow which...For some reason, he found himself wondering if this guy was targeted now because of something personal, for Simmik. If his suspicions were true, then he'd keep whatever information he could in mind; and if he had caused her any grief, he'd repay it tenfold.
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The tiniest hint of smile curved her lips at his reaction to the name of Donovan's pack. Now that he mentioned it, she did kind of wonder why they called themselves saints when they were unabashedly quite the opposite. He seemed to heed her warning, though, regardless of his poking fun at their name. Silly name or not, their members are not anyone you would want to be caught alone with, she added just to be sure he understood. Of course, this was based solely off the interaction with the woman who led at Donovan's side. But if she was a leader, Simmik hated to think what the other members of the pack were like. 

His question was only logical; she had warned him about a dangerous loner, so obviously Jackalope would want to know what he looked like. Bile rose in her throat again as her attacker's face took over her thoughts. She knew all too well what he looked like—she saw him in her nightmares and anytime her mind had time to wander. Still, she was unable to answer for a few moments as she tried to slow her racing heart and keep the panic from her face. When she did finally speak again, her voice was rough. He's white like me, larger, and has a brown streak on his nose. She had offered the same description to Mal when she told him what happened, and she hadn't spoken of the monster or what had happened since; she knew she would pay for this later, but she didn't want anyone else getting hurt, especially not those who were supposed to be under her protection.
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Obediently, Jackalope avoided making any further comments about the pack's name, but only because Simmik actually seemed to be taking their threat fairly seriously. He wondered exactly what had happened to make the pack so wary of a bunch of dingbats calling themselves saints- but he got the feeling it might also be a sensitive topic. He was treading on thin ice enough as it was, and he got the feeling as she tensed, and swallowed before answering his next question, that Simmik had had personal experience with the wolf she then described. 

Her reluctance to speak told him volumes, and what he inferred made him fume. "A shitstreak on his face. Got it." He said in a low voice. Still, a somewhat vague description. He wanted to ask for the colour of his eyes- but didn't want to push the topic. Simmik wasn't the type of wolf who he thought would be easily shaken; so for her to struggle even the slightest with this, he was led to believe that whoever this wolf was...They'd done something terrible. He wanted to apologize to her, or to reach out and tell her she'd never have to worry about that man again. He wanted to strangle the life out of the creature and bring his pelt back as proof, so that Simmik could sleep easily- but somehow...He figured she might prefer if he hadn't noticed the way she struggled. She was obviously trying to hide something- so in a rare bid to help his packmate relax, Jackalope shrugged- and though it felt somewhat wrong, he feigned ignorance, taking her advice at face value.

"Seems like there's douche-trots everywhere nowadays." He said. "Fortunately, they tend to repel one another. You know, just by taking me into the pack, you're lessening the chances that that slithering bag of weevil-dung- or any others like him- will come this way." He said, with a light and airy voice. He glanced over at her with a coy side-eye, once more trying to glean any form of amusement from her features.
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She appreciated what Jackalope was trying to do—calling the man's mark a shitstreak. A different Simmik would have given and amused smirk and approving nod, but now it felt impossible to have any positive feelings when discussing this particular topic. All she felt was shame and anger and the urge to vomit whenever she was reminded of his violation. She wished she could offer more than a nod and a glance away as she tried to compose herself but that also felt impossible. 

And as much as she was struggling with speaking of the monster, Jackalope didn't appear to notice, or at least he didn't show any outward hints that he had noticed. Either way, she was grateful. 

His next comment caught her off-guard, but not at first. It wasn't until she put together what he was saying and looked over to meet his coy glance. She gave a small huff of amusement and raised an eyebrow. Does that mean I can call you a douche-trot the next time you annoy me? she asked, awkwardly repeating his strange insult. You know, since you've now come out as one yourself. What even was a douche-trot?
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Just gonna tidy this up since it's a wee bit outdated :) Thanks for bringing Simmik by to accept him!

Jackalope snorted and flicked his tongue over the tips of his fangs when Simmik asked about the insult he'd given the wolves who now pestered their peaceful home. "I prefer Jackalope," he admitted, though there was a reluctant acceptance to his voice. Simmik was the boss here, and she could basically call him whatever she wanted without him being able to argue with her about it. He'd follow her on a short tour of the forest and the boundaries, and managed to keep a restraing on his tongue now that he knew there was turmoil within the forest. As insincere as he often was, he was respectful- as much as he could be- of Simmik's need for seriousness, slipping in docile humour now and again to relax the atmosphere without pushing the boundaries too much.