The Floodlands With a melody from the mourning band

It was dark on the floodplains, and the sky was full of stars peppering an unending black that had swallowed the sun for a time. Darcia stood here, in the glory of the night, and observed the things here he didn't know as well as the shadewood. The mountain of Everfall was the source of the water in this place. Yearly, when everything melted in spring, these lands were thoroughly soaked as it all rushed back to the sea; and now, in the summer, it all seemed to teem with more water than anything else. The moon turned all that was green into silver by his eyes, and all the water looked shiny and black as he watched it flow north.

Darcia listened to the owls, and the crickets, and the swift-running rivers, peering as far as he could see at what the land had to offer him. Without having the thought to do so beforehand, he suddenly tossed back his dark crown, exposing his pale throat, and sang a long and lonely song that carried far for any to hear.

Kuasak was finished with the mountain they had lurked, but prior to their leaving she did wish to hunt the herd in which she and Kavrak had found. They no longer remained at the place in which they had been found, but Kuasak trailed them diligently for many miles. She would be back prior to the sunrise, having left late evening. Now the world was dark and cool, though certainly it did not carry the biting chill her thick furs preferred. It made her irritable, but finding evidence of the herd she followed calmed her. Kuasak stopped in her tracks as she heard the howl of a lone wolf; it would be the first stranger she had ever met, she realized, within these lands. 

And so she lifted her own head and howled in turn, returning his call. Though she was neither alone nor lonely, she was present and near—sooner or later, he would come to find this out on his own. She remained still, ears erect and nostrils flaring. He might return her call, or he might not. Whatever the case, she would not be in this spot for too long.

Darcia closed his teeth together when the voice of another rose an octave above his. The pitch was decidedly feminine, though the distance could have had him mistaken. His body warmed quickly to the call, and Darcia rose tall to his feet, throwing his head back again as he sung further, deeper into the sky -- reaching out for his unseen company. After returning in song, he began to make for the source which came from higher ground, and his eyes glowed in the night as the wolf starved for companionship hunted readily for the evening's savior. He cared little for who the stranger might turn out to be; friend or foe, Darcia would enjoy himself tonight.

The wolf returned her call, and she too deduced what she could; the next howl she gave was lower in pitch, and as she closed her jaws on the note some her cry undulated.  Then she, too, moved toward the source, her strides long and purposeful. She did not guess who she might come across, not due to the potential that expectations may lead to disappointment but due to her utter lack of creativity. The path to the herd veered in the opposite direction, but Kuasak would not forget that. They were still near. The land began to gradually become wetter, sopping still from runoff. She paused there, sniffing the air and observing her surroundings.

He saw her first -- a pale beacon on a blackened backdrop -- before anything else, and he noted what he could about the wolf as his pace quickened to an unabashed trot against sopping earth in an effort to meet them quickly. The wind was not in his favor, so he knew nothing of the wolf's gender or age as the distance fell away from them, but he could plainly see that she was a large and sturdy creature; a wolf bred of the mountains if he'd ever seen one. She could have been from the Blacksea Mountain itself, but he didn't like the odds of meeting another wolf from his homelands in the same month, so rejected it immediately as a possibility.

The male's pace slowed only when he had come within several wolflengths of her, and he hung back with his tail raised and waving expectantly. There was no threat in his posturing but there was promise for something more, something wild, as his tongue lolled out and he beckoned her wordlessly to receive her; eager to find out more.

Kuasak smelled him before she heard him, and heard him before she saw him—he was an impressive beast to look upon, and Kuasak was at once interested in a base level. Was he born of these wilds? He did not look soft; he was cut from an impressive cloth, she saw—her eyes sought scars, tales of battles he had partaken in within his lifetime. He was older and experienced both—though she would surely smell young, she hadn't the innocent eyes a yearling ought to have. Her stare was knowing and certain. She had seen what life and death both could do. And Kuasak was keenly aware that she had the potential to be the bringer of them both. There was no questioning the latter of the two. Children and adults had been felled by the savage without regard, all in the name of duty—a duty she was unshakably devoted to. 

His posture was one that invited, and Kuasak's own was rigid and dominant both as she finally continued to wade in his direction. To be ankle-deep in these waters did not deter her; Kuasak had been trained in oceans with violent swells, and these were still. But she was observant—venomous creatures might lurk in the floodlands. Kuasak's flicking ear was a reminder of how keenly aware she was, though the rest of her seemed to heed solely this stranger. 

Kuasak stilled just before him, ears cupping forward as her own plume, held proudly above her hindquarters, wondering if he would be receptive to an investigation. They were both loners, and here Kuasak did not presume to be in charge of him in any capacity, though there was a distinct desire to rein him in to her. He seemed strong and wild, and before him stood a woman utterly strong and savage in pedigree, feral to her core. She sought cues his body might give her—for in that, Kuasak was more eloquent than many.

Darcia looked at her, a vicious queen under the stars and standing ankle-deep in dark marsh. He saw all of her, and understood instantly what she was and what she was not. A she-wolf, surely, but she was also the rare breed that knew of her own abilities. She did not fear to approach him because she trusted her own faculties, her own instinct, and she demanded a heavy price for her to offer such capacities to another. Very clearly he knew her to be a creature that needed convincing of her brethren's worth, and more than Darcia felt capable of doing so, he wanted to. She yielded to no wolf that did not show itself in power, and the virile male was eager to take up the challenge.

He, without question, was an ironbred king -- a mortally bound god -- and he would present himself as such at all times, without or without support. With or without his crown. Darcia licked his chops as she waded nearer, his muzzle wrinkling as he at last could taste the scent of others clinging firmly to her thick coat. It was a disappointing thought, that her soul was presently attached elsewhere, but it was not a notion that deterred him in the least. If it was meant that they part ways, it would not be without him first presenting himself to her in his greatest measure.

Darcia mirrored every move she made until they were standing nose to nose. The air crackled around them, and a tension built from the water into the summer night's sky basked them with the scent of something utterly untamed. Her ears did not fold, and her tail did not lower, but they both could not be the most powerful thing here, and Darcia was far too excited to simply let her have such a title. He met her eye then, finding a ring of light within dark irises, and a growling purr vibrated in his throat as he elicited an inviting challenge to her. The stiff wave of his banner stilled very suddenly -- the only precursor to his next action -- and Darcia lunged at her with the intent to grapple and dominate.

Kuasak was still before him, and infinitely aware. And the very moment his eyes moved to her own and sought to hold, Kuasak surged forward, lips parted in a silent snarl to bear into him. It was mere milliseconds later that he sought to fight back, though Kuasak did not do this out of pride or out of need to prove her worth—she did this because she was a woman to be respected, and no stranger to earning it through tooth and claw. Her fangs moved to (attempt to) grab hold of his shoulders, to push him backward and bear into him with all of her weight as opposed to downward. Each and every wolf knew the motive in a fight, and Kuasak was no fool. As long as the whole of her body was within her reach, he could be beaten—but first, to gain a strong and sure hold! Kuasak did not wish for this to be a long fight, as her energy had more important uses than this presently... but for one to demand respect, they needed to show they had reason for it. This she inherently understood. This, she would accomplish.

Fite roll

Their simultaneous action against one another was the first test passed by either party. Neither of them had been caught unaware by the springing of tooth and claw, and both were severely willing to prove to the other that they were better. They spoke in the first language of their kind; the first way that pups learn to communicate and compete. It wasn't a violent game, but it was a natural one, and though neither wolf sought to draw blood, it was not with gentleness that their jaws met and mashed.

Darcia underestimated the girl at first, or more accurately, he overestimated himself against her. The young bitch was staggeringly formidable— an indomitable snow-beast— and the male had to extend himself to best her. But best her he did, and when the scuffle was done, and the rippling waters settled slightly, she had relented to his snarls and forward ears. Darcia was immediately glad for the reprieve of her attacks. The victor shook out his heavy coat, and felt keenly the stings of welts growing large across his chest and legs. He licked his lathery chops and watched her, his tail swaying back and forth contentedly as their adrenaline settled.

With a grunting snort he stepped forward again, this time without threat, and he made to bathe her head and ears in appreciation for the night-skirmish.

It was a difficult fight of push and pull; she did not underestimate him or overestimate herself. No, in fact, Kuasak knew when to relent—she needed to conserve her energy... and against this wolf, she did not mind. He was, truly, experienced and strong. A man to respect. And one day, Kuasak would come against him again—but not this day. She dipped her head a measure, content to call him victor this eve, though when his tongue came Kuasak moved to nip him roughly. She was well spent from their "battle", and Kuasak sprung to all fours. 

She began to move away, though looked to him, thoughtful. She looked purposefully back to her path and then to him again. Come with me, the suggestion spoke. He would fit well among her ilk, she imagined. Brutes, the lot of them. Powerful ones. Though the man was a strong one, he would be stronger with them—of this she was certain. He knew Kuasak at her weakest, which was hardly weak to start with. She wondered if he might choose to remain with her—with them. She wondered if he would choose to become. If he, too, might be Anneriwok.

She did not accept or return his appreciation for the fight— which he had half-expected with her having been the one to relent— but as she began to move away, she turned to him again in a pointed expression that beckoned. Darcia was torn between his curiosity and his unwillingness to be guided. If anything, he wanted to lead her back to his forest, because he felt he had earned the right to do so; the right to claim her under his stead and see her flourish under his direction. But she had other intentions, intentions he wanted to know more of, but was too stubborn to accept at the time.

He gave one quick shake of his head, and lifted his tail in an amicable wave to her. Darcia remained, waiting to see if she would change her mind, but he'd been aware ever since taking in her scent that her loyalty lie elsewhere, so he prepared to watch her go.