Waterfowl

Nestled in the mountain range's butt-crack was a lake. Farstep had chosen to come this way rather than immediately ascending the mountains with the thinking that there might be a less trying way up, but the male had yet to discover an easier path. He kept his nose close to the ground, but his ears were pulled up on his head in case one of the wolves from the nearby pack came upon him and decided to try their luck. His steps were ponderous, betraying his lack of purpose here.

A pair of wild swans glided across the wind-blown water, and ducks frolicked at the edges. Briefly, the ginger male glanced up at them and swiped his tongue across his lips, weighing his options. He had yet to fill his belly with meat, having been dissuaded from his previous tracking by the arrival of a fox-like bitch. Adjusting his stance to that of a prowling predator and picking up his pace, Farstep made his way toward the waterfowl on the lake's edge.

Many things had happened in the time that Njal had been with his wife - and now he was more than ready to get back to things. The man had tried to hurry himself in to a mental state for work; knowing that his rank was sliding, knowing that the pack needed him. News of Bones' departure reached him swiftly and it soured his mood further, thinking, If only I had been there, perhaps things would have gone differently. Another set of fangs could have saved her from the Tortuga wolves.

Njal was thus on edge about his patrol. He lingered near the creek's heartland for only an hour or so before growing too restless, and diverted his usual course. He headed for the meadow first, passing by Duck Lake for a quick taste of the water and a brief look around - and as he got nearer to the meadow, a fresh scent caught his attention. It was rugged and solitary, that scent. Where Njal imagined to taste the sea - in case it was a returned Tortuga wolf - he instead found nothing but earth and trees upon the air; this was clouded by the perfume of many flowers as well, which he was quick to circumvent.

The man adjusted his route and it curled around towards the falls, and on a quick judgement call Njal hiked towards the river's narrowing gap - back to the beginning of his patrol, apparently - and it was then that the scent grew heavier. A hungry step devoured the land around him as he moved towards the lake's edge, perusing the still surface which reflected a blanket of cloud cover; but there, on the farther edge from him, was a silhouette. Njal raised his head as if to promote a greatness that he felt he possessed, and marched onwards towards the figure - slowing to a stalk, to a stop entirely, when he was close enough to be seen. A silent warden, for now.

Farstep's hunger, coupled with the ducks' complacency and the stillness of the surrounding lake, spurred him into a brisk trot. He approached quietly but confidently, holding himself as low to the ground as he dared while maintaining his speed. At the water's edge he slowed to a near-crawl, creeping up on the resting ducks with fluttering heart and eagerly twitching nose.

The lone dog broke his cover and charged headlong into the fray of ducks, which scattered instantly. The clumsy fowl took flight with raucous quacks and alarmed cries, leaving a spray of feathers in their wake. Farstep flung himself into the air, pulling his legs in close and leaping as high as he could, but the sharp snap of his jaws fell closed on thin air and his opportunity passed.

Shaking his ruff, the unsuccessful male chuffed an annoyed sound, then froze in his tracks when he noticed another wolf watching him from a distance. Instantly fuelled by his failure to catch a duck and the nosiness of the other, the loner flicked up his head and ears and growled uncertainly.

Majesty looked up suddenly, hearing the quacking of nearby ducks. He ground to a halt, panting from his run, and looked around. Secretly, he was impressed with himself. Earlier, he had decided to go for a run, as he was always conscious of keeping his body healthy with exercise. He never realized he would go so far so quickly. He went over to the edge of a lake full of ducks and lapped at the refreshing water greedily, wondering in the back of his mind whether or not he'd ever be able to catch one of those squawking birds.

His ears perked at the sound of growling wolf close by. Quickly, he looked up from his drink, and spotted a male wolf growling at something far off. He turned his attention to where the male was looking and saw another male wolf, staring the other down. Not knowing either of them made him cautious to get involved. So he sat, and waited, to see what would happen.

The lake was an important asset to the creek, if only because it was the heart if it; without the lake there would be no river, as far as Njal was concerned. He was careful, cautious. While he stood watching the stranger he began to tread closer, slowly and steadily, but with a lethargic pace that gave the stranger leeway. Njal had no control over this area - it was just a bit too close for comfort, according to the warden. As he stalked along, Njal's tail raised and whisked at the air, signalling his irritation but little else. He followed the curve of the lake for a few feet, but eventually paused. So far, the silver man was oblivious to the second wolf that had come upon the scene; he was more concerned with what he saw as a direct threat, and so he continued to scrutinize the stranger in silence. The fowl, frightened first by the long-faced male, landed nearby to Njal but paddled away upon his approach - seeking the center of the lake, were they would be safe.

In Farstep's world, there was no room for undue aggression. The wolves he had grown up with would attempt to kill a trespassing enemy alien regardless of that alien's allegiance, for no pack was known to band with another pack there, but they didn't often wander outside their range to harass wolves in the outside areas. To do so invited injury, and eliminating a wolf that did not directly concern them had never been worth the risk.

He therefore reacted predictably negatively to the other male's approach. He knew instinctively that it was not uncommon for a lone wolf to be given a chance by the opposite sex. Though they would have danced the dance of dominance all the same, in the end, he would have conceded to a bitch. However, Njal's hefty build belonged to a male wolf, and Farstep interpreted the other's approach as aggressive. There was a natural competition between same-sex wolves even in neutral lands, which would have explained why the lone wolf stiffened and raised the volume of his growl.

But he was cut off suddenly by a scent on the wind. He was upwind of Njal, which necessarily placed Majesty upwind of him. Nostrils flaring, the lone wolf stiffly turned himself to stand perpendicular to the slowly approaching Njal so that he could seek out the second wolf and determine its status without leaving himself entirely unguarded.

Majesty watched as the lone wolf searched for him. The other - the growling one - hadn't noticed him yet. He did not move from his spot beside the lake, watching as the ducks all moved to the center, where they would be better protected from attack. Majesty wondered what he would do if either of them turned on him. He was not naturally aggressive, yet the Alpha inside of him gave him too much pride for his own liking. He sighed, deciding to just wait.

As he waited, he kept his posture straight, ears forward, attentive. Beside him, the water in the lake lapped at the shoreline, and the quacking of ducks was a constant. A breeze blew past, ruffling Majesty's fur. He closed his eyes and smiled. It felt nice, the wind. And it blew the scents of both wolves toward him. One smelled fearful, the other aggressive. Worriedly, he opened his eyes again, so that his defenses wouldn't be down.

Lone wolves held little interest to Njal, usually. When they passed too close to his own mental boundary of the pack, that was when he grew truly irate; and this stranger, whoever he was, had come too close already. It irked him further that they were after his ducks. Prey that could be used to feed his pregnant wife, which was the sole property of the creek. Njal continued to approach - his ears flicking towards the sounds of ducks, but then turning forward as soon as the stranger turned. He noticed the curious expression upon the stranger's face and, as the loner's body leveled in a perpendicular fashion, Njal finally turned his attention in the direction that held the other so attentive. It was then that he noticed a second wolf, a dark figure that was made more swarthy with the thick shadows of the trees. Njal paused then, both nervous and suddenly frustrated that wolves were coming out of the woodwork so close to his home.

All three male wolves were nervous about the other two in their vinicity. Farstep was perhaps the most nervous. He had no pack or brethren to rely on. There was no way for him to tell from where he stood whether the other dogs ran with groups or not. It didn't matter. All Farstep needed to know was that they were males, which made them immediate threats to his safety, and they were unwelcoming.

At long last he slung back his ears and narrowed his eyes, fixated on the paler wolf, since the chocolate-furred brute at his rear seemed less inclined to approach. With a grunt that trilled into a sound of discontent, the male began taking slow strides in the direction he'd turned in. It brought him further from the lake, but his pelt still bristled and his tail was still held bottlebrush and rigid behind him... Suggesting it was not the compliance they sought, but a defensive movement.

Majesty continued to sit and do absolutely nothing. In his mind, there was no reason to get involved - unless, of course, the males in front of him decided to get into a fight. He took in the one farther away, the silver-white one with the scar on the side of his face. He was imposing enough, but Majesty figured he was probably bigger. He had no intention of doing anything to either wolf - except break up any fighting that happened. Otherwise, he would simply continue to wait.

He watched as the lone wolf became suddenly agitated and stalked towards the silver male, snarling, hackles raised. Nervous about what could potentially happen now, he stood up, ready to take a preventative action if need be. Despite knowing that he could very easily be hurt or killed if he got in the way, he felt the need to be a moderator. He was not much of a fighter himself, and even though he didn't like to butt in on other wolves' problems, he wasn't about to let a fight break out right in front of him if there was another way to solve whatever problem this was. So, he stood, ready to run at either one of them, and waited.

It was strange that two wolves would be so close to the creek, yet so distant from one another. Njal watched as the first loner turned and began to stalk off, but it was in this moment that he let himself drift a little. The man turned and watched the dark figure, noting how he had lurched a bit closer, and this made Njal's spine spike all the more. A blustering wind passed across the lake at this point, sucking the air beyond him and in that moment, granting Njal some information. The stranger who lurked in the dark was distinctly mountainous in scent; yet they held nothing to imply that they were part of the Vale. That could only mean this was one of Jinx's kin.

For the time being the first stranger was ignored. Njal stopped stalking after him in order to stand firmly in place and cast a baleful eye upon the larger of the two wanderers; the stranger which sat so pensively, but heralded more of a threat. The warden was uneasy with both of them, but especially this oddity. What was Jinx thinking? Placement of her subordinates so close to the creek made him nervous, enough so that Njal issued a baying bark in to his surroundings; directed towards the distant figure, the burly stranger that was too far from home - and too close to his own - for comfort.

A second throaty bark was issued - and this transitioned in to a low call to arms, a summon for @Fox and anyone else in the vicinity. As Njal's voice began to fade he thought of Tuwawi and hoped she did not respond - despite her abilities, Njal did not wish to put her in harm's way if this Silvertip wolf deigned to do harm. With a flick of his eyes Njal glanced towards the stiff-legged (but retreating) form of Farstep; he was a decent distance away, but Njal was still unsure.

The silvery male followed him. Farstep nearly whirled around with his ears plastered to his head to issue a final warning snarl, but for once put mind over matter and chose to continue on his way. His pace picked up, but the rigid dancing of his tail-tip would warn the other male away. Further pursuit would result in injury, for while Njal took exception of Farstep's supposed nearness, Farstep took exception to Njal's overbearing behaviour.

Luckily, the silver male's ire was drawn by the other stranger who had arrived. Farstep didn't even look back once as Njal bayed out a howl. A fight was not in his best interest and his instincts told him to get away, so he did just that.

OOC: This will be my last post on this thread.

IC: Majesty heard the two baying barks of the silvery male. He knew what that meant. He was rallying his other pack members as backup. That meant it was time for Majesty to leave. He made sure to stay long enough to make sure that the lone wolf who carried no pack scent got away, and then began a long circuitous route around the pack wolf.

Majesty kept his eyes on the silver wolf the entire time, but he kept his gaze neutral and his stance relaxed. He did not smile, for at this time it would have made him seem cocky, like he was about to try something. Instead, he simply looked, and nothing more. He continued to go around the wolf in a large arc so as to stay as far away as possible. The problem was that the silver male was right in the path he needed to go, in the direction of the Great Bear Wilderness. So, he maintained eye-contact and eventually got to the point where his back was facing the direction he needed to be facing. With one last look to the snarling male, he turned his back and continued on his way back home.

[Exit Majesty.]

It seemed as if both wolves would take this moment to flee, and Njal was fine with that. He did not choose to pursue the first, as his attention was upon the larger male - who now wove a wide path around him, as if to bait him. The warden only watched, finding the activities of the stranger to be ultimately too peculiar; perhaps there was something wrong with them? Whatever the case, Njal kept an eye upon the swarthy stranger until he passed out of view. He took a few loping strides to make sure the two wolves were out of his site line, and then called out again - a final warning to both vagrants to keep out. The call could be heard for quite a distance, and would most likely reach any backup he had already summoned. With a snort and a roll of his shoulders, Njal turned and began to loop along the borders once more.

[Exit Njal!]