Swiftcurrent Creek its 3 in the morning and i'm feeling just fine

so this is their new abode. idyllic at a glance, though having inspected their namesake creek up close, more deadly first appears. it will do, samothes concludes, walking by the edge of said creek. 

samothes has paid little mind to their swollen membership, though he is glad for their bolstered numbers, strategically. with durnevhiir and constantine's relationship cemented, he has the good sense to wonder at his own place in their group, longstanding member or third wheel. he is not, he will admit, particularly close to either of them despite his longevity. he respects both of them and he has shared time with constantine enough to feel secure, and yet. he could do more.

perhaps there's a way he can blame these feelings on samaantine. (there is not). looking into the water, the scholar frowns at his reflection. this is an opportunity, he tells himself. and he knows better than to let an opportunity pass him by.

Since his initial run-in with the wolves formerly of Ravensblood, Phoenix had spent little to no time within the confines of Swiftcurrent. He hadn't bothered to learn its layout at first, or spend any time among its members as he came to terms with his status as a packwolf again, but this neglect had begun to evolve in recent days. With Durnehviir's due date nearing, Phoenix instinctively began to patrol more, lingering nearer and nearer to the wolves he'd aligned himself with for the time being. Now was not the time for exploration— now was the time to prepare.

Tired of lifting his leg on the outskirts, the young upstart ventured inland, eager to find a packmate so that he might goad them into doing something useful with him. He thought he'd be killing two birds with one stone that way.

At the creek's titular riverbed, Phoenix spied someone he'd only seen in passing— a blond-faced male, grey of body and lost deep in thought. Unaware that it was possible to startle a packmate, the firebrand traipsed forward with a confident stride, and came right up to bump the male's shoulder with his nose.

he senses the other before they move to touch him, but does not anticipate the boldness of the touch itself -- surprised, samothes jerks away, his teeth instinctively flashing as he nearly topples into the treacherous waters of the creek. samothes curses, scrabbling for more secure footing.

"what was that?" he demands, realising the stranger's gesture has not come with teeth. he must be one of the newest members of the creek, samothes realises, giving him a rather obvious once over. healthy looking,  handsome even. a pity he's a massive fucking idiot.

Phoenix took an uncertain step back, his ears lacing themselves down as he was rendered genuinely shocked by the male's reaction. "Take it easy, friend," he huffed, becoming defensive. The yearling quickly resumed some semblance of courage as he righted his posture from its cringe, and he continued more gently.  "I didn't mean to scare you. We're packmates.. like brothers now, yeah? And I was just being friendly." He raised a brow at the offended wolf and wagged his tail in slow, thoughtful strokes. "Expecting trouble?" Phoenix asked. Because why else would he be so jumpy? It couldn't possibly be the fact that a near complete stranger had tried to touch him.

samothes squints. the other man seems genuinely surprised by samothes' tension, as if it's perfectly normal to run up and knock into wolves you don't know. now that he's certain he's not about to drown, he calms himself, straightening as he turns towards the fool. "unused to such bold gestures from strangers," the messeda returns smoothly, deciding he'll give him the benefit of the doubt once. (perhaps expecting trouble is fair -- with samaantine about, one really never knows). 

"i take it you're new to the creek," he continues, very graciously accepting his non-apology, "my name is samothes. yours?"

"New-er, I guess," the yearling sniffed, aware that this was a wolf who'd been a part of Constantine's previous stake at a forest somewhere, but he had assumed the Creek was just as new to this packmate as it was to him. He had been around since the Creek's founding after all. "My name's Phoenix -- and er, sorry we haven't met yet. It was different... where I'm from," he said, starting to blabber as a nervous need to compensate for something bubbled up inside him. "I mean, when you joined up with us: everybody in the pack would come to greet you all at once, like right away, and you had to make a relationship -- good or bad or whatever -- right then and there, basically. I'm just trying to get used to the... the kind of independence you all have around here."

He looked like he was about to say more, but then he closed his muzzle with a soft click, having apparently become aware of his rambling.

i am not worthy of your patience

no worries!!! :)c

wow that is a lot of words. samothes regrets immediately not simply walking off -- but he isn't rude. this conversation is happening one way or another. "i see," he says, recoiling invisibly at the premise. can you imagine? it reminds him a little of... "my birth pack was... similar, i suppose," he grants, "though perhaps that was because it was a fairly tightknit family unit. not a lot of room for unfamiliar faces." the messeda gives phoenix another once-over, critical in a different way. hm. "personally, i quite like to take my time to form an opinion of someone."

Though he accepted his packmate's studious gaze with well-intended reservedness, Phoenix was intensely reminded of his father under this wolf's eye. He could practically feel the judgements being made, and he felt a trickling of unease because of it. "Heh, yeah I guess it makes sense to take your time with something like that," he replied, not at all trying to sound like he was taking the wolf's preference as a hint. Maybe it was foolish to consider everyone a friend until they proved otherwise, but he couldn't help the way he felt, not any more than Samothes could eradicate himself of the instinct to be guarded.

"I just don't see the bother in it. Either someone likes you or they don't -- and those feelings can change from moment to moment -- so I don't put much stock in the amount of time spent with someone before making up my mind. I guess, honestly, because my mind's never really made up about anyone. Like, you've been pretty offputting in my opinion, so far, but I won't hold that against you because I might find that I like you for something you do tomorrow or... something..." he trailed off, feeling that judgement again as he railed on about a topic he wasn't possibly old enough to be certain with.

lmao i apologise for sam

again, just, a lot of words. how does one small person contain so many words? are his thoughts spilling forth unfiltered? god, man, how do you live? at length the noises stop (at some point samothes had tuned out, thankfully missing the phrase pretty offputting -- though really he's earned it). as he trails off sam lets the silence hang between them long enough to become uncomfortable before saying simply, "quite." he adds no more, the line of his mouth a hair short of wry in it's indulgent smile. again, though, he does not take his leave -- no, no, now he's curious if the fellow has any air left in him at all.