Northstar Vale eclipse
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#1
All Welcome 
For anyone! (The shadow could be a bird or something spreading its wings)


They'd been living together for some time now - a week, maybe two, maybe longer - but Tryphon was no closer to any of the wolves in his new family. It was his own fault, really. The boy had kept to himself since the bulk of the pack had become acquainted with one another; even now, having grown accustomed to the perpetual presence of others only a few minutes away in either direction, Tryphon was alone. He could have easily sought out the company of one of his fellow wolves — Saena, Warbone, Dagfinn, the new girl Minna — yet instead he had followed his nose away, and only looked up from his wandering when he found himself cloaked in a chilled darkness, no doubt afforded to him by a ridge of old trees nearby. The shadows stretched out across the meadow as if reaching for him, and he stood just at the edge staring through the fringe of obscurity. Not once did Tryphon think to look behind him for support, or around him. Not even when something rustled in the treetops, and the shadow grew distorted and immense around him.
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#2
Since Saena had returned home injured, Warbone had dedicated most of his energy to corralling his wolves, wanting them to remain close and disperse as little as possible. His attitude seemed effective towards most, except the elusive Tryphon, who had been one of the first of them to be lured into the vale by his counterpart. Even now he watched as the golden-headed creature slipped away, and as unease built in his chest the longer he was absent, Warbone found himself unable to keep himself from following.

A large bird of prey was taking flight, just as he found the pensive male, and as the shadow passed over the snow and cast wide across their bodies, he made a soft chuffing sound, to let him know he was coming to his side. Tail lifted and wagging, his mood undecided, he asked (innocently enough): "what are you doing?"
if sins were etched into the surface of bones,
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#3

The bird's wings were obscured, but their cast shadow painted a great swatch of gray across the snow. The light was briefly interrupted from hitting Tryphon's gaze, and once it resumed he squinted and looked away. This was timed precisely to the approach of the other male. A part of Tryphon willed him to move out of the way, to be inconspicious, but he was cemented to his spot upon the snow instead.

The man's question was met with silence. He didn't really have an adequate answer, not when there were things he should've been doing. Tryphon was a subordinate caught out in the open by a superior with no plan of action, no purpose. If the entire pack was looking out for Saena — hunting for her, caring for her injuries — then who was keeping the pack safe? The boy started to shrug but then stopped, caught for a moment by the bird as it soared overhead, and then murmured, Adapting.
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#4
It seemed harder for wolves less like him to understand that there was safety in numbers. That patrolling would become largely unnecessary, as the presence of other predators never compared to the might of a well-formed wolf pack. Warbone considered that maybe even this was not enough to make a wolf like Tryphon feel safe enough -- it certainly didn't encourage his own partner to stay within the valley's keep -- but he tried not to be judgemental all the same. Knowing that he had damaged his relationship with Saena, made him want to be more careful about exercising his control over those beneath him. He wanted them to want to be here, not remain because they were forced to.

"Are you succeeding?" he asked then, instead of scoffing at the baseless answer, as was his wont.
if sins were etched into the surface of bones,
i’d need another skeleton to record all my wrongs
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#5

The response was terse. Tryphon flicked his attention away from the bird and focused on Warbone for a moment, on his proximity more than any actual feature about him, seemingly more nervous than he was. Yes, Tryphon was apprehensive. He was naturally shy, especially of those with power. He wasn't afraid for his own safety at this point though. Having lived among these wolves for the past few weeks had afforded him some comfort at least.

I'm not sure, he admitted (probably too readily). The boy side-stepped and then craned his neck, looking back to the gathering of wolves in the distance. He couldn't tell them apart. They were all obscured by distance, and each was a hazy gray shape in the distance. But... That is no reflection upon you, or Saena. It had always been difficult for the boy to fit in, anywhere. He thought this time it would be different. Maybe things were too different? Or maybe thinking he could let go of Saghani, of the sea, of everything from before, was just fantasy. Tryphon hummed thoughtfully to himself, then added: I'm not sure of my role.
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#6
Though not the answer Warbone anticipated -- because surely if the male wasn't adjusting then he would simply lie about it -- the wolf didn't find himself as put off by the response as one might've thought. He was further placated by the admittance that his unrest had nothing to do with Saena or himself, and he watched the seawolf curiously, his one eye devoid of any discernible emotion. As far as "roles" went, Warbone thought too practically to imagine that a wolf needed anything more than the chance to survive; and certainly those chances were higher with others beside them. "You're wanted here," he mused, his gaze rolling away to follow the bird that had flown nearly out of sight during their small conversation.

"Do you require a role to play in order to feel wanted?" I can give you one, his gaze finished his words, returning to Tryphon's face.
if sins were etched into the surface of bones,
i’d need another skeleton to record all my wrongs
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#7

What he needed was... Something he couldn't put in to words. If he knew, perhaps Tryphon would not have made it to this place. He might've made peace with his existence within Jade Fern Grove, or before that, with the sea as his fickle queen. But the question of purpose was a complicated one; something that needed to be voiced, something he absolutely needed to hear.

It was important to him, Tryphon decided in that moment, that he have a purpose.

Before this he had been wandering with Saghani. He had been content with that existence. There was no purpose for him then except to be with her, to be happy, but maybe.. Maybe he hadn't really found happiness. Fate had a way of twisting things to its own whims after all. And she was gone - Saghani - leaving Tryphon to figure this out on his own.

I do, he responded within seconds. Then, he took a deep breath and allowed himself to look upon Warbone as carefully as he could, wondering if he would find it offensive when their eyes locked; it was at this point Tryphon realized the older man had lost one. At least, I think I do. I've never really... had one. A purpose. It might make the difference. 
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#8
"You seem fond of Saena, however distant you aim to be," Warbone said then, his tone growing harsher as he realized that he didn't want to do this. How many purposes were out there any way? If this had been Tall Timbers, Tryphon would have been thrashed and forced to fight for his life -- finding purpose or death, whichever came first. He feared he would chase him away with such severity, however, and it made him miss his siblings; wolves who knew physicality better than anything else. "Your purpose is to protect her, at any cost."

The decree came hotly, words snapping in quiet clicks behind his teeth. "And when she leaves the vale, you will always follow. You will remain unseen, but you will be there," he pressed further. "If you are not there for her, should she ever need you, then you would have lost your purpose and will no longer deserve your life." Warbone blinked slowly, staring deeply at Tryphon's golden crown, and then he lifted his chin. Understood?
if sins were etched into the surface of bones,
i’d need another skeleton to record all my wrongs
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#9

He listened, and remained silent while Warbone made his comments. The gruffness of the man's voice was one thing, but the tone itself was what grated upon Tryphon the most; as if he were tempering himself, holding back. But what he heard beyond the words was a sense of dislike. Maybe that was the improper term for it — but it was unsettling. The boy did not know how to take it, and so he didn't say anything, letting the words drift through his ears instead.

The command was met with more stoicism at first. Tryphon did not know what to say, or do, and was afraid partly of offending Warbone in some manner. There was something dangerous about him. However, having asked for help (in his own strange, shy, inept way), Tryphon couldn't sit idly by without responding. He nodded slowly, and then seemed to take on a serious expression (which wasn't exactly a deviation from his usual resting-sad-face).

She will be safe, he confirmed, accepting the charge without issue. Saena was the closest thing to a friend he'd made since Saghani, and it would be easy to transfer his attachment from one shadow to another — or so he told himself.
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#10
His tenseness prevailed; the sun waiting for Icarus to fly too close; but the argent boy with the golden crown, flew only close enough for a warm brandishing, and Warbone found that he didn't need to force purpose out of him as he finally agreed to the cause. The copper wolf seemed to sigh, his broad shoulders depreciating in exhale, and his body became completely lank as he stood in front of Tryphon now without the weight that had been plaguing him the last few days past. "Thank you," he said murmured reflexively, his tail jumping to a slow wag as he stretched forward and sought to graze the Fourth across his shoulder appreciatively.

He wouldn't say what the agreement meant to him, but when he had recoiled, he turned to look over his shoulder, peering towards the mountains that led out to the taiga. He thought to send the male on a spy's journey to the Grotto -- with the added hopes of retrieving Saena's remaining daughter -- but decided against it at the last moment. His eye turned back to his packmate. "Will you be staying here for further contemplation, or would you like to join me on a hunt?"
if sins were etched into the surface of bones,
i’d need another skeleton to record all my wrongs
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#11

His new life would begin now, it seemed. The boy inhaled slowly, feeling the air fill his lungs, and let it out as if it were his first breath; with this purpose granted to him, maybe it would make all the difference. He was no longer interested in the distant hawk, though it still traced a thin line in the distance and seemed to be on its way back on a return trip. Prompted by Warbone's offer to hunt, Tryphon gave one last look upon the shadows of the distant trees and the eyelash of a bird that floated beyond them, and focused once again upon his leader. With a shift of his weight he aligned himself with Warbone's position and gave a nod. I will join you. Although the entire pack seemed focused upon the same task of hunting, it seemed like the only other activity available in this place; and as he was thankful to Warbone for trying to fix his (perpetual) existential crisis, it was only right that he give his aid. For pack — for Saena
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#12
Warbone's tail had lifted, a jolly roger waving, as Tryphon agreed to accompany him. His mood had changed now that he felt relieved of his greatest burden: the worry that Saena's continued jaunts away from the pack jeopardized her in ways he could not shield her from himself. And even if it meant losing an additional body each time she left, to him it was far better than the alternative, which was to see her go alone and always be unsure. At least with the mountain wolf, raised by the sea, tailing her unseen, there was a chance to save her from her own stubbornness.

He leaned forward to place a fond nibble behind the young man's ear, but regardless of whether or not the affection was met fondly or allowed at all, the copper wolf turned to rather happily lead them on a journey north. "Sheep or swine?" the trotting wolf asked of the company at his shoulder.
if sins were etched into the surface of bones,
i’d need another skeleton to record all my wrongs
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#13

Warbone was a far more physical creature than what Tryphon was accustomed to. Moreso than anyone he could remember, anyways. Each time the leader moved towards the boy there was a sense of anticipation - a hesitation - wherein Tryphon did not know what to do; he felt the man tug softly at an ear and then, with a delayed reaction, Tryphon flicked it as if to rid himself of a pesky fly. There was no reason for him to be afraid of Warbone. He was intimidated of course, but so far Warbone had done nothing to implicate himself as a threat to Tryphon — it was just the nature of the beast that had the boy on-edge.

Perhaps once they got to work and they both could focus on prey, Tryphon would feel better about things. He followed after his superior without another word spoken, at least until Warbone murmured something, to which Tryphon's ears shot forwards on his head in an expectant manner, nearly missing the comment. His brow knit with a brief spell of confusion, although a split-second later he had some grasp of what had been said. He responded plainly, as always: Is there a difference?

Ah, yet in speaking Tryphon realized how immature he sounded; back went his ears, and before Warbone could respond to such a pointless question, Tryphon answered properly. S-swine. He'd seen the sheep on the cliffs when he'd crossed the mountains months ago, and they had been agile things with great curving crowns upon their heads. Tryphon did not think himself to be strong enough to combat something so fierce. 
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#14
Warbone smirked as he considered the difference between mutton and pork. It mostly lie in the taste— sheep were hard creatures and their meat reflected as such, tasting very much of mountains they came from; but pigs were more supple, and dirtier, as they consumed anything in their path. And there was something about illusory filth that made things taste better.

Before he could answer though, Tryphon decided that it didn't matter the difference, and picked for them to collaborate on a pork dinner. It would be an easier task, if anything else, and tastier in Warbone's case. It would also be a meal perfect to share. "Pig it is," he rumbled approvingly, changing his direction suddenly to head in the direction where he knew he would find a swine trail. 

In a companionable way, Warbone decided not to speak as they went. The silence was not uncomfortable to him, and though he wanted to know everything of his wolves, he certainly wasn't keen on asking more of them than they were willing to give. Tryphon seemed most at ease when he wasn't forced to speak, so he didn't make him; and even without grilling the boy, they were able to find a sounder of pigs in a relatively short time.

The wolves hung back, keeping the wind in their favor as they listened to the grunts and squeals of the foraging adversaries. "That one," Warbone murmured, nosing towards an old hog who seemed a tad shunned from the rest of the group; probably sick with some disease or another that made him undesirable to his own kin. The wolf nudged his companion, motioning for him to take up position for a short chase.
if sins were etched into the surface of bones,
i’d need another skeleton to record all my wrongs
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#15

With their target confirmed, Tryphon need only to follow the first's lead; and he did so silently, ears twisting atop his head as he searched for signs of pigs. He didn't know what to look for, not really. But thankfully there was Warbone — and soon enough they discovered a bumbling little herd of snuffling creatures. They were portly indeed. Tryphon watched them through the brush with a spark of curiosity in his eye, and wondered if they'd put up much of a challenge; they had such short legs!

Warbone pointed out a specific creature - it was old, and it looked as if it was being ostracised from its own family, which brought the boy's baseline ferality to the forefront of his mind. It was the perfect target for them to take down. Saena would surely feast upon it and be pleased. Warbone gave him some gutteral instruction that Tryphon happily obliged, settling in to a cat-like pose, ready to dash out after the old pig.