Blackfoot Forest one they fear

The ghost trailed through the dark twisting trunks of the trees that littered their forest… his forest. It was still difficult to believe that he had summoned enough strength to command a rank within a pack. The ashen brute could not say that he regretted his actions. He did know that his time there would be short. The wolves within their ranks had formed a close relationship with the pale man that Kierkegaard had attacked. They would not be pleased to have their leader overthrown by a wild-furred rogue. He was not fearful, though. He held his new rank with the breath and composure that was necessary of a man in his position. If he had mustered the strength to sweep the Alpha position away from their Aaron, he would find the willpower to maintain it.
 
A sharp sliver of the moon shone through the twisting branches of the trees. In the distance somewhere, a fox cried into the darkness. Kierke drew his lengthy ears forward and peered into the wood with a fiery gaze. His head was held upwards and his figure was statuesque. There was an eerie nature to their lands. The forest was twisting and precarious in places. Though the ash-colored beast had always preferred the sharp incline of the mountains and the dank caverns that lined the cliffs, he had known other homes to be like the Rosings’ wild wood.
 
Drawing his muzzle toward the sky, the pallid brute breathed in the night air and allowed it to fill his lungs sweetly. It had been impulsive behavior that had set him on the pack land. Kierkegaard knew that if Moz had been there with him, she would have discouraged such an act. Then again, he had always managed when he had his sister at his side. Without her, he had become brash and chaotic. There was no longer a level head to keep him calm. It was in his blood; there was a thirst to fight and to survive in the most dismal of times. The Sairensu wolves were a fierce brood, and they had only survived so long because of the innate need to live.
 
Crunching twigs beneath his massive paws, the coal-smattered male drew in the scents of the pack and marked the location with his own. It would be known that their Alpha had fallen from his rank. For anyone who passed the borders of the Rosings pack, it would reek of the Demonte-Sairensu male.

*nabs*

 
It was the way of the wild. The strong would command, the weak would be crushed underfoot. Though the fact that a loner, not one of their own, had managed to topple Aaron from his throne worried her. She had found herself for a moment questioning her previous alpha's right to lead. The thoughts were fueled by anger, at her simmering anger at him that had been perpetually in the femme's mind since he had made to kill the coywolf and Amara had punished her for bring the halfblood to the borders. Minna had to such qualms against any creature, be it a coywolf, wolfdog, or coydog, but Aaron most certainly did. What could have led him to hate an entire species?
 
Their lands reeked of the new king, echoes of his howls on the air. But she had not seen this king just yet, and was curious. Her ties of loyalty to the alpha were forgotten in her anger, though it subsided by the day as she slowly sought to put it out of her mind and forgive him. But now, she tracked the new king through forest dark, the thick night air humming. Moonlight dappled the ground as she carefully followed his trail, marbled form slinking low over the ground. Her amber eyes gleamed when the moonlight caught them, as she crept closer and closer to where the male was. His deplorable scent was everywhere, and she could track him because of this.

When his huge black and white form finally came into view, Minna bit back a curse. He was huge, tough, and it was obvious he had beaten Aaron. She thought that she could catch a few wounds on his pelt, but he was largely unharmed. The petit femme stepped lightly out of hiding, growing apprehensive as she approached, though she did not show it. "Who, exactly, are you?" she asked him, evenly and without any of the anger of uncertainty she felt. Perhaps a bold question, providing she did little to submit and he had just defeated the strongest male in the pack.

It was not long before the unfamiliar scent of another wafted through the ashen brute’s nares. His ears swiveled atop his crown and he darted a fiery set of optics in the direction of the female. She stepped through the brush, pushing it aside with a few steps. She closed a short amount of distance between them and the gold-eyed man looked at her with a fiery glint in his gaze. The fur along his shoulders rose upward and he took a step towards the female. It would be difficult for him to overtake a pack that had established relationships with the fallen leader. They would not he kind to his being there. Kierkegaard cared very little for the wolves of the forest and their qualms against his new reign.
 
“I am your new alpha. You will respect that rank,” he growled at the woman with narrowed brows and a snap of his ivory canines. He would demonstrate that there would be no insubordination under his rule. Though the ashen brute was not a truly vicious man, he had known the wild his entire life and it had crafted him into a hardened soul. All was evident by the ragged frame of his large body, and the fury that unfolded in the fire of his eyes. The female before him did not seem to have a rank worth mentioning within the pack, and thought he was momentarily curious why, he did not inquire.
 
She was curious – openly so – and had asked who he was. There was no simple answer this question. Kierkegaard was a ghost; he had come into the Teekon Wilds more than a year ago and had vanished for a short period of time. He had always been a man with a wandering soul. Reclusive in nature and cold to the pains of others. “I am Kierkegaard Demonte-Sairensu,” he growled to her. “I have usurped your leader. You need know nothing more.” Short words, spoken in a gruff tone, but not done with hostility. If she should react to him with disrespect, she would see a very different side of the ashen monster.

Minna understood the flashing fangs and gruff tone well enough. He would not tolerate her questions, nor any insubordination she may well attempt to show. Worry flooded the female. Though she had felt anger for the alpha female, she now felt mere concern. What of her? He was Aaron's mate, would this new alpha attempt to claim her, hurt her? Surely he wouldn't be so barbaric, she thought, and yet she was still concerned for the gentle alpha. Nothing was certain, the ranks were fluid and their traditions unstable with this new leader. 

She kept her beliefs about the situation close to her, not sharing them with him or anyone yet. She made no attempt to challenge the male's voice, though barbaric, the laws of the wild were firm in their stance. Teeth grating, she dipped her head. "Very well... alpha" she said, surprised her voice was even and steady. She would do best to support this male, he had the power to hurt or banish her. At least, she would outwardly, though her feeling were still confused. She cared for Amara and Aaron, but especially for Liri and Leto. 

"Did you kill him? Hurt him badly?" she asked, quietly, softly. Her feeling toward Aaron at the moment did not matter, he did not deserve to die. She dared not disrespect the alpha, he towered over her

It did not take long for the agouti female to accept Kierkegaard for what he had spoken. She had gritted her teeth before lowering her skull, but it was to be expected. Reluctance would be commonplace for a short while from the wolves of Rosings. They would not want him there; he was foreign to them. It would not be long before he would be integrated into the lifestyle that they had managed for so long. The brute had taken their culture and inserted himself into it with no regards. He had ripped a constant from them and demoted the pale creature to nothing more than scum. This was how the world worked. Change was a necessity to move forward.
 
The female inquired to Kierkegaard if he had harmed Aaron to the point that he would not be the same. The ashen man shook his head in response. “He is bruised and battered but he will be stronger for it in the days to come,” the beast responded to her with a solemn bow of his skull. “These are the ways of the world. Do not mourn for him; he has only lost hold of a kingdom.” It was as simple as that for Kierkegaard. He only hoped that the female before him would believe it to be the same.
 
“What are you called?” the brute inquired with a stern look in her direction. It would take him time to know these wolves and to see what their potential was. She had a curiosity about her, and though she may have seemed a bit too forward, he could sense potential there.

Stronger for it? Do not mourn? Minna swallowed a bitterness and simply nodded. Brashness, boldness would not be welcome. Cunning would be the key to surviving this turbulence. She turned her eyes down, lowering her tail slightly as she slipped into a more submissive stance, subtle, but easy to see. She answered his question respectfully, evenly "My name is Minna Amsel. I have almost completed my scout trade, but I can fight and hunt as well, sir" the words fell from her maw easily, she felt as if pleading entry into the pack again. In a way, she supposed, she was. 

As she spoke, a plan fell into mind. She would play this role well. She would be the pack member, confident and respectful, that seemed to support his rule. She would reason that it was nature, that Aaron had been unfit to lead. But should her charade fail, or should he harm any of those she cared about, she would hesitate to steal into his den and sink her fangs into his neck, however unlikely it was that she, tiny as she was, would be able to best this creature of brawn and bulk. She revealed none of these thoughts, but looked at Kierkgaard with resigned respect. "I take your words to heart, alpha Kierkgaard" she said a moment later in response to his previous words.

Aaron had truly only lost his hold on the pack and his rank within it. He could have lost much more than just that. The famine had been brutal and vicious, and had taken the lives of enough wolves that it had given impact to the world around them. The lack of food had turned some wolves into creatures that they would not have been normally. Kierkegaard had only felt his sense of survival heightened. He was a brute and a monster. The ashen creature was oftentimes short and difficult to converse with, but he was not entirely lost in his actions. There was a strange level-headedness to his behavior. After having taken the Rosings under his wing, he had obtained a calmness that had not been there before. For a moment, it meant that the brute would survive another day.
 
The female introduced herself as Minna and he nodded his head to acknowledge that he had gathered the information she had provided him. “Those are good skills,” he drawled in a quiet baritone. His features were still very intense. The ghost had never been good at conversation. He had known solitude his entire life, and though he had sought the acceptance of other packs in times of need, he preferred his own company to that of anyone else’s. This thought brought an image to his head; Moz and Signe. Casting them aside, the great creature attempted to focus on the female before him.
 
She looked at him and expressed that she would take his words to heart. “You will not have to. I am a man of action… let that speak for me,” he told her. “What other roles have you provided for this pack?” And the brute realized that he did not even know the name of the home he had invaded.

She took his 'compliment' with a simple nod, remaining silent and she hoped, respectful. He was an odd creature to converse with, she felt like this was balancing on the edge of a precipece, and a show of disrespect would send her tumbling over the edge. Perhaps this was hyperbole, but this was the effect the imposing figure gave. He said he was a man of action, to this Minna offered a smile. "I am glad, sir." He asked what other roles she played in the pack. For a moment, she considered. "I may be small, but I guard the borders well. I have some knowledge of herbs, and I know this territory well. Very well. I know the cave in the mountains, the forests, the location of most everyone's den."

It was true. Minna had spent much of her time in the territory exploring in search of prey, and had stumbled upon a few beautiful areas's in the process. Though there were areas of it she had yet to explore, she felt very confident in her knowledge of the territory, and it had yet to surprise her. He hoped that perhaps Kierkegaard would ask her to show him some of these places, her plan was still shadowy and needed examining further, but it would not hurt to be on his good side. Gain his trust, learn of his motives- she felt like the rest of the pack would not be so welcoming.

For a moment, her heart ached for Leto. He was loyal, fiercely so, and she feared for what Kierkegaard would do to him should he show his defience. Of course, he may, like her, pretend, but she doubted he would simply accept the man's rule.

There was a forced respect in the manner in which she spoke to him. It irked the ragged brute so that he could not fully take the woman for face value. Nevertheless, his trust would be damaged for all of them and he knew that he would not be able to believe in the words they spoke simply because they seemed sincere. The wolves of Rosings would have to show him that they meant their loyalty. He had taken what was not rightfully his to take. The ghostly beast had inserted himself where he did not belong and the only option these wolves would week would be to overthrow him from their ranks. Kierkegaard was a fighter, though, and he would survive this just as he had survived nearly six years of life. He had no other choice but to continue on.
 
Lengthy ears were drawn forward to catch what Minna spoke. She seemed to be quite proud of the abilities that she had learned and adapted to. Nodding his head once, the ragged creature found himself wondering if she would be the best to attempt to persuade or if her alliance was still with Aaron. She would be of use if he should need to know their terrain, and perhaps that was not a bad thing. “Will you accompany me to the significant locations in the pack? I should need a guide the first time,” he asked of her with an unchanging expression on his haggard face.
 
“I will need a location for a den, as well,” the ghost then added with a thoughtful frown and a stiff nod. There was an itching in the back of his mind that suggested he allow Minna to help him with locating a place to claim a den, but he did not think it wise to actually create one where they would find him. The ashen creature would not think kindly on intruders in the night, and he would not put it past the angry wolves of Rosings to come find him while he slept.  

She was to be a guide, which was perfect.She would show him only what she wanted to be seen, the rest would be kept a secret from the brute. Dipping her head in acknowledgement, she motioned to the riht with her muzzle and said simply. "Very well, sir. Follow me." With that, she slipped into the shady trees once more, beginning her task of showing the imposter around the territory.