Lake Rodney Rushing waves stand so tall
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#1
For @Wildfire She's headed toward Rodney Lake (:

The summer wind surged strongly today and assured the Wilds that winter months were long behind them. They offered little in ways of relief, and while Andalusia was accustomed to high temperatures, she doubted she would ever grow used to them. Thankfully this land offered bouts of relief, whether in the form of twisting rivers, ponds and lakes, or shady canopies of trees. Dawdling in burning rays was not her way to travel, and while she enjoyed the occasional bursts of heat the sun offered, the Ostrega found herself hopping from copse to stream more often than not throughout her travels of the Southern edge of the Teekon Wilds.

She hadn't realized how far she had run from the flatlands until she'd tried to find her way back. Helping Sebastian had only drawn her further away, and while she'd welcomed the distraction, her thoughts had quickly turned back to their prior discontent. Her paws splashed through the clear score of a river now, one she had been following since early in the morning. Fish darted from the wake of her path, and Andalusia took her time to pause intermittently in hopes of snatching one or two from the river bed. She had managed to catch one earlier, but all that filled her jaws when she drew from the river now was a mouthful of water. With a slight cough, she rubbed her muzzle across her leg, then lifted her head to squint to the river's end. From what she could tell, the stream continued for a ways yet, but bobbing ever closer was a glistening expanse - a lake, no doubt. Sooner or later she knew she'd come upon some landmark that would strike recognition in her, but the thought of this only brought a grim uncertainty she even wanted to forge forward. Andalusia considered the waters for only a moment. No, regardless of how she felt, she needed to return, and setting her jaw, Andalusia slipped closer to the nearing lake.
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Lake Rodney is to the west, Wildfire thought as she trotted along the mountain's base, pausing every now and then to squint at the sky, then the horizon, to gauge her position. Southwest, she corrected herself with a satisfied bob of her smudged snout and a flick of her onyx tail. Even as she thought the word, Wildfire began to trot in that direction, eager to explore the lake shore and get herself a little drink. She knew better than to swim by herself, yet surely there was no harm in curing her thirst!

When she came upon the water's edge, she began to lower her head only to freeze when her amber eyes noticed the sandy figure loping in her direction. Heading east, she thought absently, ears tilting backward and tail going limp. She stood her ground, even lifting her head slightly as the stranger neared the shoreline. She couldn't tell if she had been noticed or not, though the young pup plucked up the courage to issue a soft bark meant simultaneously as a question and a warning. This wolf, after all, was getting quite close to Redhawk territory.
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Andalusia sloshed from the riverbed as the rocky base of the stream began to drop. Her paws hit dry ground, and by compulsion the Ostrega gave herself a shake to rid her fur of extra water. She'd been emerged long enough for the water to penetrate through to her skin, and the gales lost their warmth the moment they touched her sodden body. A shiver pulsed through her, but she didn't see it proper to complain. The river was refreshing, and she revelled in the moments its coolness clung to her. The relief wouldn't last long.

A movement of ruddy fur bobbed in her peripheral and Andalusia turned her head to meet her company. At first she mistook the girl for a rather peculiar looking fox, but when the girl lifted her head and issued a chuff of warning, Andalusia paused mid-stride and tasted the air. The gales favoured neither she nor the small wolf across the way. Rather she caught the damp scent of the lake, and the underlying marks of Redhawk Caldera. How close was she to intruding? Andalusia slacked her ears, let her tail sway low, and turned her head until her torso pointed north-west and away from the pack. The young wolf remained in the peripheral of her diverted gaze, and Andalusia hoped the girl would understand the silent assurance she intended to travel well past their land, despite having followed the river right to it.
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The stranger responded immediately, lowering her ears and tail and presenting her flank, all silent assurances that she meant no harm. Wildfire did not trust easily, yet her own ears perked and her head raised slightly as she acknowledged the other female's behavior. She even flicked her tail upward a few notches, feeling slightly more confident about their respective roles in this impromptu encounter.

"Who're you and what're you doing so close to the caldera?" the youngster called out to the sandy she-wolf. Her heart beat rapidly in her breast. She felt the same anxiety she experienced around most strangers, yet Wildfire did her best not to let it show. She was a Warrior, not to mention an ambassador for her pack. She would do her best to represent the Redhawks well.
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The Ostrega turned to face the young girl, but kept her body clearly submissive. "Andalusia Ostrega," she said with a nod of her head, "My nearness was an oversight on my part. I prefer sticking to rivers and woods while travelling on days like these, but it seems the river wasn't quite on my side. The wind had me fooled your pack was still a ways off."

The girl looked young, likely at the start of pursuing her trades. Andalusia could remember her own beginnings well, the anxiety and the excitement. She hadn't been so bold then - courage had come slowly, but it had come with time. This youth held herself well, and Andalusia bet she would shape into a fine Warden as she matured. "I'm headed North to visit my uncle," she ventured. Andalusia didn't know how much the youth knew of the North, nor how willing she would be to help a stranger, but the Ostrega was willing to risk her breath. "Do you know of any packs or places I'd do well to avoid?" She knew of the Rise, of course, but she was curious to hear who else the locals here viewed with hostility.
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Wildfire's brow furrowed. She didn't know what the word oversight meant, though she gathered the information she needed from the rest of Andalusia's words via contextual clues. Anyway, her body language spoke louder than anything. She expressed clear submission, which put the youngster at ease... as much as she could be around a perfect stranger this close to the caldera.

When Andalusia mentioned the north, the child's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Testing her knowledge again, she peered in the direction she supposed to be north, then redirected her amber eyes back to Andalusia. She associated that direction with danger; her parents mentioned it often. So when the she-wolf requested information from Wildfire regarding risky packs, she blurted, "The north is dangerous." Of course, everything she knew about it was very subjective, though Wildfire didn't think of that.

With that said, Wildfire imparted a nugget of knowledge pulled from her Warrior training as well as exposure to the teachings of Wardens. "You should avoid all packs," she said sagely. "Wolf packs are..." She paused, searching for the word. "Rivals." On that note, she inquired, "What pack are you from?"
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Andalusia prepared herself for a negative answer, but the force of what the young girl offered caught her off-guard and the Ostrega blinked and raised her brow. Experience told her youth had the tendency to exaggerate, but Andalusia felt that the adamance of her words did not stem from fantasy or make-believe. If the adults of the Caldera spoke enough negativity against the North, enough so that their children held them as enemies, then the girl's warning was one to consider. In lieu of the injuries sustained by Sebastian while travelling through those lands, the Ostrega could believe at least some of the packs in that region were less than hospitable to outsiders.

Yet the girl continued to engulf all packs in the category of ones to avoid, regardless of whether they lay in the North or not, and Andalusia couldn't hold her tongue on that. "Rivals, but not always enemies. Many wolves will surprise you." The Caldera's teachings were its own, and she wasn't about to meddle with what their members taught their young. After all, they were not rules that bound her, nor would they ever be, and there must have been a good reason why they had been set in the first place. But the world was so rich beyond the bounds of any one pack, and to hide this from the child seemed unfair. One couldn't be blind to the risks of leaving home, but if one only focused on the dangers, they would never see beyond their prejudices to the wealth of learning just waiting to be obtained from others as keen as they.

Still, at the girl's final question Andalusia felt a rush of relief she hadn't settled yet, lest their encounter sour the moment she spoke her allegiance. "I belong to no one but myself," she said, and resisted the urge to lift her chin at her words, "My home pack is far from here, much farther than a few day's travel and likely unheard of in these parts. Some of my family has settled across this land, and they're why I've chosen to stay." The finality of those words left her unsettled, but she set herself against the growing urge to move on from the Wilds with finality the same.
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She hadn't expected Andalusia to profess herself a loner. Wildfire blinked at this information, turning it over in her head. Did this mean she wasn't a rival? Wait, did this mean she was looking for a place to live? She thumbed through the pages of her mind, reflecting on her recent encounter with FitzDutiful specifically. They had discussed recruiting. She knew this was a big part of becoming an Outrider. Although her heart thudded in her chest at the idea of trying to make a sales pitch, Wildfire felt her parents might reward her the apprenticeship outright if she successfully recruited someone into the pack... or, well, brought one to them to recruit.

Uncertain where to start, exactly, the youngster mentally scrambled for a moment before the pressure of her own silence caused her to blurt, "Would you like to join Redhawk Caldera?" After the words left her mouth, Wildfire nibbled at her lower lip. Would she even be the right fit for the pack? Was the pack the right fit for her? She barely knew anything about Andalusia and, of course, Andalusia scarcely knew the first thing about the caldera. Feeling like she had jumped the gun, Wildfire sighed at herself, amber eyes dropping pensively to her paws for a few seconds before slowly lifting again.
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Silence stretched between them, and Andalusia drew her paws closer together. In all her years she had never quite grown used to the quiet. Her brothers and sisters were always making one noise or another, and though the noise had been overbearing at times, she almost wished their endless chatter would sound in her ears again. Thankfully, the youth did not hold her silence long.

Her proposal to join the Caldera was not an unreasonable offer, but from what Andalusia had gleaned of the pack, she imagined she would fit in like a porcupine in a birthing den. But the Ostrega held her tongue, noticing a deflation in the youth, and she felt emotion stir in her chest. Not pity or compassion, but empathy for the youth. Andalusia had been in the girl's position before, a long time ago, but the memories of her training, of worry and uncertainty, remained vivid in her mind. "I can't promise anything," she said with a steady voice, careful not to raise the youth's hopes, "But I'm interested to hear more. What do your leaders value? What do you look for in recruits?" She didn't think she was the type of recruit they would value, but she was willing and ready to listen.
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Fortunately, Andalusia didn't seem perturbed by the pup's overeager question. She answered carefully, citing interest in learning more but prefacing it with a disclaimer: she promised nothing. Wildfire bobbed her head to show she understood, even as her heart fluttered in her chest. There was a real possibility she could convince this wolf to try to join Redhawk Caldera!

"What do your leaders value?" She weighed that question for a moment, then slowly replied, "They value hard work and trades. They make everyone in the pack become either a Warrior or Warden to help keep everyone protected. They're, um... territorial?" Her voice inflected, as she wasn't entirely sure if that was the right term. She looked to Andalusia as if expecting confirmation. "They take good care of us and guard the caldera like it's treasure."

"What do you look for in recruits?" was Andalusia's second inquiry. "You gotta be a loyal, hard worker who wants to protect the pack and, um, contribute by earning trades. My mom and dad don't like their pack mates to wander too far 'cause then that leaves them and our territory less protected, you know? Everyone is close. We're family." Hell, they even gave out the Redhawk surname to those deemed worthy, though Wildfire didn't share that insider's information just now.
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Andalusia gave a nod to encourage the youth when she stumbled. Territorial seemed the right word, though Andalusia couldn't say it offered positive sway. She knew the ins and outs of defence well enough, but there was a reason she'd chosen the life of an Outrider. Circling the land in endless loops had never been her passion. Even then, she was more likely to strike a conversation with nosy neighbours than she was to strike a blow.

But the in the function of the pack she saw the logistics in being territorial. She knew how far she would go to protect her  ow family from harm, and that loyalty was something she missed. With pups around, heightened protection made even more sense. But there was a shadow in her thoughts. Sebastian had said his wounds were the result of an encounter with his Alpha's daughter. If this pack was so keen on family bonds, then what had their leader done to cause such a rift between someone of his own blood?

Besides that, the thought of kin roused one factor she couldn't ignore. Loyalty, hard-work, and protection: all these things the youth required, Andalusia could offer - but not to the Caldera. "My loyalty still extends to my family. It wouldn't be fair to give you half of my devotion." Though she still knew so little of Mordecai, he was a blood relative, and Andalusia couldn't give that up. There were Ostregas out there beyond her and her siblings. If her loyalty was with anyone, it was with them.

But she was not done with the girl. Sebastian's healing had been on her mind ever since she left him by the borders. Now might be the only time she had to inquire of his state, and she wouldn't let it slip between her paws. "I came across one of your wolves a short time ago, his name was Sebastian. He was wounded, but a fellow loner and I helped patch him up." Perhaps she should have asked before she declined a place among them, but some things couldn't be changed. She only hoped she had presented herself in a way the youth could trust with the answers she sought. "How's his recovery coming along?"
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Thanks for the thread! :)

Andalusia mentioned her own family, insisting she could not place her loyalty elsewhere. Wildfire felt a prick of disappointment, though her nod of understanding was genuine. Should she venture out into the world and someone approach her with a promising sales pitch, she would never consider it either. She was a loyal Redhawk and couldn't imagine ever offering her fealty to anyone but her parents and the rest of the caldera.

The conversation took an unexpected turn when Andalusia suddenly inquired about Sebastian. The pup's demeanor suddenly changed to one of trepidation. She had narrowly escaped the man's "evil twin" what felt like hours ago. Although Wildfire had told herself she wouldn't let that encounter scare her, its effect on her was irrefutable. The mere thought of her Warden friend caused her heart to squeeze with dread.

"I... dunno," she answered distractedly. "I have to go." Ears flattening and tail going limp, the pup turned from the sandy she-wolf and began to skitter home, only to pause and glance over her shoulder long enough to offer a quiet, "Bye." She didn't mean to be rude. But Andalusia was a lost cause and now she felt something like a panic attack (not that she knew the term for it) coming on. It was best to hurry home.