Swiftcurrent Creek There's a whole new master of magnetism in town.

@Armand

It wasn't too far of a stretch for Stark to head out to explore the lands. He'd sorely missed his time bring able to scout and with the winter approaching bringing in new  bodies would be good. He'd tracked down along the edges of the mountains, meeting up with the river, and from there down to swiftcurrent. It almost reminded him of his Ravens Watch, the tiny special place there where he'd met Octavia and then months later buried her. 

Here, though, it was closer to where he had met Amara. That action had changed the course of things too, as they all did. Stark took a moment to watch the fish flash beneath the current before he snapped his head down, dragging a fish up with it. No use going hungry while he was out and about, he could still fish after all and fish were still plentiful. The alpha carried his prize a few places from the edge of the creek to start tugging the bones free, letting his mind slowly wander where it would. 

[table width=55%][tr][td]
the swarthy man sought the silver lash beneath the frigid waters, and armand watched him with eyes that burned in his thin face. perhaps it was hunger that drove him to shadowed observation -- perhaps it was his intentional and overwhelming sense of carnality that pervaded all his mind. this was the lot that his maker had given him, the ravings that had nestled themselves behind his eyes.
in the next breath, armand had stepped from his autumn-hued shelter, and into the eyesight of the fisherman. vulpine he had grown with starvation and his childlike pointed features -- armand settled himself upon the bank and gazed without chagrin at the darkfurred wolf some distance away.[/tr][/td][/table]

Stark didn't smell anything for the time being other than the substantial scent of the fish. It gave his unknown watcher time to admire him, and Stark had gotten a couple of the harder to deal with bones free. There was sound near him and his blue eyes swept upwards, looking around until he found the source of the sound - or who he assumed had made it. Stark licked his lips, curious for a moment about the golden boy. He gave a little nod, inviting him closer. 

Maybe it was his kind nature, maybe the fact that he looked thin and winter approached quickly, but Stark abandoned his fish to return to the edge of the water. A few moments later and he had another fish, this one he brought near the other with a deliberate look. If he wanted company, the male was welcome to join him. 

[table width=55%][tr][td]
the boy did not draw away, nor evince any sign of tension, when the man drew near with a fish gripped in his jaws. a sardonic smile spread widely across armand's lips — was he so weak, so fragile in appearance, that males saw fit to fill his belly? the aforementioned gut ached at the scent of the meat, and at length armand did lower his tongue to the scales, before he took it between his teeth and carried it nearer to the darkpelted male. 
here he sat and began to consume the offering, as delicately he could muster in the face of his starvation. when he had finished, armand found that he still hungered greatly, but set about lapping blood from his jaws and the tiny toes at the ends of his small forepaws. "my name is armand," the ganymede murmured, forestalling the common inquiry. here he turned his chestnut eyes upon his companion and merely watched him for a long moment.[/tr][/td][/table]

He only watched to ensure the male was actually eating before he set to his own fish, plucking bones and scales away as carefully as he could while he finished his meal. He hated the feeling of fish bones. When he'd finished he licked his lips, the other male offering his name. Armand. "I'm Stark." he said evenly, letting one leg cross across the other, relaxing a bit. "I'm gonna guess you've been on your own a bit."  Stark couldn't quite swallow his grin fast enough, almost daring a wink to follow but it seemed a bit much. The male was petite, clearly he'd not had much luck hunting regularly - maybe he'd been separated from his pack for awhile. 

Stark let his blue eyes rove over Armand's body - noting the rich chestnut of his eyes, the golden sheen of his coat. "I traveled almost a year alone before settling here." Settling which still seemed foreign to him, even on the best of days.  

[table width=55%][tr][td]
stark what? armand wished to tease. stark naked? stark raving mad? unbidden the boy chuckled; felt the brief sting of embarrassment; and then decided it mattered not. the man's eyes were upon his body as they enjoyed the pause of conversation — it seemed stark was happy to fill the quiet absence of armand's own words with his own. "it has been some time," the italian rejoined all the same, the words unfeeling upon his tongue. it had been too long since he had engaged in true discourse with another, and the memory of it was unfamilar. "are you alone now, stark?" armand inquired, attempting to fit himself into the nuances of a conversation, though it was with no skill, and perhaps stilted; tactless.[/tr][/td][/table]

Well, he didn't run off - so that was good. Stark licked his lips, gaze drifting across the male's figure. He seemed so young, and yet within him came this sense of an ancient soul that had taken residence within him. It made him infinitely cherubic and somehow beyond age at the same time. He was a paradox in that regard and Stark found himself curious to know more, but, he did not want to pry. "Not since the tail end of Spring," Stark admitted. He'd come into the wilds just on the cusp of Spring bleeding into Summer, both seasons offering their own shift as the wolves sought to survive and then recover from the famine. 

"I lead a pack in the mountains called Marauder's Keep." No longer did they hide as previous leaders had dictated. Stark was a proud beast, and he was proud most of all of his wolves. He wanted to show them off in their own rights, to show how far they'd come and how much they had done. "How long have you been on your own, Armand?" 

[table width=55%][tr][td]
armand's eyes widened somewhat with wonder at the name of the pack led by this man before him. "i know a boy from your pack. tambourine. i met him some days ago." it must be very near indeed, this keep, for the slyph to have met two creatures from it in the span of a week. armand wondered if this was a sign of sorts that he must now join stark's band — the idea amused him into a little grin, forgetting to answer immediately.
"for quite some time, signore," armand murmured, turning his hennaed gaze to meet stark's own. "i prefer it." even with winter approaching, for with the snows would come death, and then would armand be free to sleep.[/tr][/td][/table]