Phoenix Maplewood before we talk of war

The male could detect traces of another pack along the edges of the wood, but it was difficult to tell if they'd merely passed through in recent past, or if they'd settled more permanently in the area. For the moment, he played it safe and kept to the outskirts, although he was deep enough into the trees he still feared he might be violently repelled. It was worth the risk, he thought. It was the height of summer, and although he'd shed his generous winter coat, it was still uncomfortable to travel under the heat of the sun. Besides, he was hungry, and it seemed easier to hunt under the cover of trees than out in the open.

At the moment, he was tracking a bevy of grouse through the undergrowth, nose to the ground but ears swivelling endlessly. He was nervous about hunting this close to a pack, but a wolf had to eat when he had the chance.

Shale, too, was hunting on the outskirts of the maplewood, and the unfamiliar scent brought his hackles up immediately. A growl bubbling in his throat, the man left the trail he was pursuing to intercept the stranger, a furious trot carrying his legs forward through the brush. Flashes of silver through the greenery caught his eye, and he burst through, coming face-to-face with the other.

"Leave," he said shortly, firming his jaw. "These are my family's hunting grounds. You are not welcome here." Shale jerked his head toward the outside, away from the plains, indicating that the man should go as soon as he could, else he would not be met with words.

Filthy opportunists. He understood the plight of the pale wolves, but loners coming to and fro, settling down in the forest like they owned the place? Teekon was a vast place; there were plenty of places to hunt. And this man, to his knowledge, didn't have eight small pups to worry after. Shale was tired of chasing off vagabonds. He was just. . .tired.

Fus detected the scent of his pursuer a moment before he saw him. He swung from his trail in a flash of silver-white, spinning to face the gaunt stranger with the fur along his back quilling uncertainly. His body, though, was bowed in submission.

"Apologies," he said, skittering back a step or two, but not yet fleeing the other man's presence. His ears swivelled forward, and his dark, leathery nares twitched in curiosity. "I am a good hunter," he said after a beat of silence. "If I go away from here now, and return with food for you and yours - might I be allowed to remain?"

It seemed unlikely with the set of the other's jaw, but Fus was a determinedly optimistic fellow. Besides, there was no sense in giving up before even giving something a try.

He was pleased with the submission; some wolves would not have caved so readily. Those kind of wolves were foolish, and did not endear themselves to Shale in the slightest. He gave a brusque nod to the apology, accepting it, and his ears perked in obvious intrigue as the wolf went on.

In better times, he would have accepted the offer without question. But Shale was not willing to let a self-described 'good hunter' slip through the cracks. His mouth twisting, the man pretended to consider the stranger's offer before leveling his copper gaze upon him in a searching manner. Digging into the other, to find the truth of the matter.

"Are you alone?" he asked. By his scent, he was--but you could never be sure. "If so--I believe we could help each other. You hunt for my pack, and only my pack. . .and we'll give you a home in return."

Shale wasn't willing to have some renegade hunter wandering through the maplewood, providing food to his neighbors every once in a while. He would join Morningside, or get the hell out of here.

"I am," he agreed with a slight dip of his head. The stranger did not get any friendlier, but Fus had found that, at times, worry could supersede all positive emotions. Dark energies hovered around the man and his family's maplewood, but the lines of the other wolf's face were such that Fus was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Darkness visited everyone at some point, whether or not it was invited.

"I will do this thing, then," he said to the male, deciding that removing himself from the scene would likely help soothe the other's nerves. "Expect me again in a few days. I will come in the morning with food - and perhaps something for the children to play with?"

But he was already backing away, reluctant to turn tail on the man who had so recently snarled at him. "I am called Fus," he added, giving one last wag of his tail before wheeling away and heading off at a fast clip toward more open areas of the taiga.

Shale scoffed, shaking his head. "A few days?" he asked in disbelief, ears swiveling backwards. "You were sniffin' around--hey, where are you going?!" he shouted, as the wolf gave a quick introduction then moved off quickly, away from the trees. "Come back here, you. . .oh, you fucking asshole," Shale trailed off darkly, claws digging into the ground in frustration.

If he was hunting then, why did this guy--Fus, he'd said--not just do it now? The kids needed to eat, now. They needed more hunters, now. Shale wasn't willing to wait on this guy, not for more than a day. What the hell was his problem?