Northstar Vale Sinners to be saints

AW! Come and meet this jerk difficult guy!

Traveling in a group was new, but not more exciting than his wandering alone. He knew he was slacking off a bit now and then, but he had not expected getting lost quite this fast - fate making him follow their scents to perhaps catch up with his group. finally in the red zone, as he liked to call it, he could breath once more. He could see his own breath make clouds as the snow seemed to dance downstairs from heaven and higher, and he sighed. This was his life now - he was in hell. 

Well, better spent his life doing something if he was stuck in the vale for the winter. He went farther North, and there he caught two rabbits instead of one - the second one earning a ticket to his stomach quite fast. He wondered who he should give the first one to though, since he only really got along with... himself, to be honest. 

"I buried my bones in the ice and snow
to hide from hoarfrost and the wind
the stone-grey storm began to grow
the sun and stars, they dimmed,
and Ka was weeping soft and low
for all the wolves that sinned," Dagfinn sang as he trotted along, looking for more dry leaves to add to the pile he was creating. The young male had it in his head that a pile of leaves would be the ultimate gift for Saena and her daughter. He himself had never had the luxury of leaves when he was growing up, but since entering the wilds, he'd found a particular love for gathering them up and romping through them like a startled colt.

When he came across one of his packmates, he stopped to investigate the food that he had in his mouth. "Good catch!" he said to the other, drawing into Rhys' personal space as he pushed his nose toward the other's kill, sniffing lustily.

His nose twitched, the cold air tickling both his brain and his nostrils. He hated the winter more than he did being stuck in one place - and, surprise surprise, his two most hated things all came together for him to enjoy. If he died here, he would personally haunt every single wolf in this stupid yet beautiful vale. Then again, dying trapped did not seem like the Septhis' style. They were wanderers - they were mentally free for their entire life. But was that enough to satisfy him?

His brow furrowed when a dark, tall male approached and he froze in place. It was obvious this male was a higher ranking wolf, but respecting someone's personally space and meal was always a thing to keep in mind, right? Oh well, the other looked young. Then again, Rhys was young too, and he did not particularly enjoy being this close to a male that didn't obviously want his most prized possession in his ass.

He moved his head away, taking the rabbit with him and stepped away from the other respectively. Thanksss... He hissed around the body of the critter, not sure how to react yet keeping his posture slightly less bold than normally. 

Dagfinn's 'rank' was still somewhat lost on him. He was yet young and still largely untried by the life he'd lived thus far. Most things were still simply a game to him, and to see another wolf holding something in his jaws made the young male's tail twitch. Keep away was always great fun, if one could find a worthy adversary.

Rhys, however, did not seem to be in a very playful mood. Or, at least, did not seem to understand that Dagfinn wanted to play.

"I'll wrestle you for it," he offered, giving the other a bit of space, since he didn't push back against Dag in the friendly manner that Lotte or Laerke would have in such a situation.

While young, Rhys enjoyed... other kinds of games than a pup would. Finally an age to produce offspring, hormones raced through his body almost every day and it was hard to focus on something as childish as "keep away" if all he could think of was taking every single girl or boy that would dare threaten his new "home". He dearly hoped he would be allowed to do so - there was no other punishment quite as cruel as one you could actually enjoy.

He smirked to the younger male. Young, impressionable - pretty much everything Rhys had needed to be to be a likable wolf. What kind of wressstling? He purred, his speech just understandable enough to sound sexy. 

Though at a ripe age for his hormones to take control, Dagfinn's experience with Amber had left him a little leery of such encounters. If there were any amorous urgings in him, he quickly pushed them away. And, while he was not quite as unaware of Rhys' implications as he wished he were, Dag was sufficiently interested in the hare to overlook such things.

"The kind where you try to keep the rabbit and I try to take it away," he explained, tail whisking cheekily as he snapped his teeth toward the food. Of course, if Rhys really wanted to keep it, Dag would not try to take it away.

Hhmmm... He mumbled, acting as if he were thinking. Well, he was, but not about what the other probably thought he was. He was more thinking of how this male did not understand his sexual undertone as well as he should. At what age had Rhys carried these hormones? Surely a bit younger than the other now was. Perhaps he had been raised all proper while Rhys had been chewed up and spat out by life itself. curious.

He smirked playfully as he winked at the other male, turning and running as fast as he could with the hope that the boy would follow. He supposed being a little playful was not always a bad thing, and he'd be seen as a party pooper if he did not partake in these sort of events.

"Huh," said Dagfinn as the other ran off. It seemed as though it might be playful, but the dark youth decided that he'd better not risk it. There were other wolves to play with, after all, and he would just have to find one of them.

Turning promptly, the youth went his own way, wondering if Tryphon, perhaps, could be persuaded to join a game of tag.