Ravensblood Forest when the bullets pierced his body, he was already gone
The Sword of the Morning
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#1
All Welcome 
It was his second journey to the coast in as many days when he noticed the smell. A wolf - male. Day had scented him before, but had simply filed the scent away in his library of wolves. There were a lot of wolves in the Teekon Wilds, after all, and Grayday didn't go following every trail he came across.

But when he came to the forest again, he realized something that he'd missed the day before. The male had not simply passed through the forest, but seemed to be living in it. Curiosity piqued, Grayday moved around the outskirts of the forest, taking note of the places where Howl had passed. He'd come through twice - once to go in, and once to come out, Grayday assumed, but the trails had been left around the same time, and the male couldn't tell which was which.

"Hm," said Grayday, tail swishing in thought as he turned away from his packmate's scent to head deeper into the forest. On second thought - he let out a cautious bark, announcing his presence. He stood for a moment, one ear cupped toward the woods.
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There was a bark – far enough from the shadow runner that it would take him moments to come upon the grey male, but not as far that the wolf’s presence was entirely missed. The scent was becoming familiar to him only in the sense that he recognized it to associate it to other wolves – a nearby pack, it would seem. He wasn’t sure how he felt of such a thing – the last neighbors he had dealt with has seen fit to settle completely upon Donnelaith’s doorstep and use their resources. The liberties had been unwelcome by him, but it had not been his decision – he had scouted the adjacent territories before beginning an attempt to claim the forest, so he did not worry about his chosen home.
 
But that did not mean this other wolf was comfortable with what proximity may be between them.
 
Sweeping forward from the shadows that played along the crimson tipped trees, Constantine announced his own presence with a rough bark, though his form was held with a demanding neutrality as he emerged to study the other. His fiery eyes remained stoical as he took in the others presence, and canting his muzzle only faintly, he waited for a moment, waiting to see what the other would say.
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He waited a bit longer, and was about to proceed with caution when his ears suddenly pressed forward, having picked up the sounds of approach. Grayday took a few steps back, the last of which occuring just as a dark-pelted male slipped into view. Curiosity, though, got the better of the silvery male, and he regained the ground just as quickly, ears splaying and nostrils twitching. There were still several yards between them, but Grayday thought he could smell the sea more strongly on the male than in the trees.

"Hey," said Grayday, wagging his tail. "Glad I caught ya. I kind of charged through here yesterday. Didn't realize the forest was occupied," he explained. If he had, he might've thought twice about settling so close. But The plateau already felt like home to him, and he didn't want to uproot his children again.
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The stranger was a slim wolf – but not by any means one to scoff at. Constantine had learned during his time in Tartok that while brute strength could come from the sheer size of a wolf, it did not always equate ferocity or tactics – the smallest of wolves could best another. He himself was by no means a behemoth, though stocky, and so the wraith studied this visitor with quiet curiosity, not keen to start a disturbance until he held more information.
 
It would seem he might not need to – the casual greeting in which he received (a laid back ‘hey’) stirred his own muscles to relax lightly and his ears would cup forward as the other continued, explaining he had been through here the other day. A light nod was given in understanding, though the [i]shadow runner’s[.i] gaze remained intent upon the other, not quite indicating one way or the other how he felt about the matter. “We seek to claim this forest soon,” he explained, leaving it at the most simplistic explanation possible. “I’m Constantine Mayfair.”
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Grayday's expression tightened. Hed expected as much, of course, but it was still concerning to have his theory confirmed. Their beach-front access was now partially blocked, and the dark male's blank stare didn't make Day feel any better about the situation. It seemed like every territory had its drawbacks, even if it didn't seem like it at first. 

"My pack has settled on the plateau just over there," Grayday revealed, gesturing to the cliffside visible behind him. "That won't be a problem, will it?"

It seemed like it would be more of an inconvenience for the Morningsiders than for the stranger and his pack. Now, if they wanted to get to the ocean, they'd have to take a more treacherous path across the mountains rather than straight through the bottleneck where strangers now resided.
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He felt a wave of unease sweep over him as the stranger mentioned claiming the plateau – his birth home. He withheld his emotions – studying the silver wolf with quiet thought before giving his muzzle a shake, as if all was well. “No, I’m sure we can stay out of each other’s fur,” he murmured, his bright eyes studying the wolf for any reaction. He held no right to be upset about the claiming of the plateau, as much as it burned – had he wanted it, he could have tried for himself – but as it was, it held only ghosts for him now. There was little point.
 
“What areas does your pack plan on hunting in?” He could only see issue if their hunting parties were to cross paths – and Constantine was not willing to bend to another pack’s will – not any longer.
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Grayday felt himself relax a bit when the male didn't bristle in response. The words had been purposefully ambiguous, able to be taken in any number of ways, and Constantine still seemed amiable enough. That was a good sign, as far as Grayday was concerned, and he offered a chuckle and a wag of his tail at the male's responding question.

"We'll stick to the southern side of the bowl - there's plenty of space for both of us, so we'll try not to crowd you," Grayday replied. "You might notice us on our way to the coast, sometimes, but we'll keep as wide a berth as we can from your borders."
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It was a situation he wasn’t fond of – the discussion of staying out of the way of ones new neighbours. Still, if the stranger kept his pack to themselves, Constantine would certainly reciprocate – Deirdre had imposed outside packs upon them at Donnelaith, and the thought still frustrated him. Had that been part of the downfall to his family’s legacy?
 
The silver man had yet to introduce himself, and so the Mayfair felt as if the conversation was as good enough as wrapped up – facts were stated as to where his wolves would remain, and Constantine gave a nod. He did not feel the need to express just where his pack mates would spend the majority of their time, and so studying the wolf with fiery eyes once more, he tipped his muzzle a fraction to the side. “Very well.”
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The other male remained quiet and sullen - pouting, almost, Grayday thought. He inclined his head, agreeing to what Grayday had said, and fell again into silence. Frustration welled up in the sterling male's chest. He wished the other male would be proactive about keeping peace between their packs. Perhaps that wasn't in his plans at all.

Grayday's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but it seemed useless to remain here when Constantine was intent on using as few words as possible.

"Be seein' ya, then," Grayday said abruptly, turning to go on his way. He was left with an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. They'd just have to see how well the bottleneck wolves kept to themselves.
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There was a narrowing of the other’s eyes, and Constantine regarded this with stoical interest. The sudden farewell also wasn’t lost on the shadowrunner and he deduced he had offended the other – but he failed to bring it in himself to care too much. “Safe travels,” he rumbled after the other, his tone no more warmer than it had been before. As long as their two packs maintained their own distance and avoided conflict, he held no particular thought to the Plateau being claimed – spare the fact he had been born upon it.
 
Watching the grey wolf leave – who still hadn’t introduced himself – Constantine turned, his stocky form lumbering along the borders as he continued to mark them, wondering if perhaps a better diplomat than himself resided in the forest.
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