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For @Kerosene at first! Backdated, to their first arriving home. before ivitaruk discovery

They had arrived home, at last. In silence they moved to reinstate their mark, and Tonravik howled to inform the pack that they had made it home. She listened for the sound of her mates voice joining her own, and as they pawed and rubbed and pissed on the borders, they then moved deeper into the territory. All seemed well here, and so they moved into the depths of the territory, to again learn of her land and be a part of it. The slopes felt so good to climb and conquer... but as she had with Echelon, she wished for snow. The peaks here were not so high for that, though the air thinned and cooled as they ascended. It was slight... but Tonravik, sensitive to the heat, noted it.

Tonravik and her mate arrived to a slight descent, in Inukpakpok Forest, where the land rose, fell, and flattened. It was a large forest, though not so large as the coniferous one. As they moved, Tonravik thought of her time with her mate, thought of her time with him. Thought of his knowledge of her, of who he knew her to be, and of his knowing of the name. He knew so very much, and yet, there had been no naming. Tonravik thought of the battle with Arverk and the other plains wolf, and how he had promised in earnest it would not happen again. That now, in any circumstance, he would protect his own.

She padded onward, heading toward the well-known landmark of their territory, Nellayok.

And the woman was thoughtful as she moved. Recalling the introduction of "Kero". She knew why he used that name; it had been who he was, before this place, before his promises (unspoken or otherwise) to her that she trusted he would keep. Tonravik stopped beneath a particularly old tree, looking at its aged bark, at its great height. Its roots escaped the earth and dove back in, finding its way again. "Who are you," she speaks then, breaking her thoughtful, contemplative silence. Her dark eyes find his bright ones.
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#2
It had been a long time since he'd found himself in the presence of the spine. A few weeks, but that time away felt like forever. His wanderlust was quiet. In its place a small part of him awoke with fondness and the satisfaction of being home. They nosed along the borders of their terrain, replacing the stale scents of themselves with newer traces so their presence would not be mistaken. They were back. And so, with a lift of their noses and the escape of their song, they let every wolf know of their return.

They slipped within the borders and up and over the ridges to descend into their inner territories. He lingered with her, unsure as to what place she had in mind. He could use a nap. Or rather, any place where he could rest a little more completely as he'd not allowed himself to sleep so soundly in their absence. They both could use the rest, truly, but he imagined there was much to do in their return and many more faces to see.

He shook himself, casting away all thoughts of travel and fatigue as they ventured through the old forest and neared the landmark that bridge a nearby river. He stole away, lapping lightly at the stream before he circled back to join her as she admired the fallen tree. It was... quite a sight to behold and just as timeless despite its fell circumstances. She gazed upon it for a moment longer before turning to look at him with a question on her lips.

His ears lifted and the name fell easily from between his teeth. "Iqniq." He'd found himself growing into that name more and more with each passing day. Did he wear it outside the Spine? No. But he'd made promise to Tonravik long ago that if he wandered no other would learn of the Spine. Kero charmed and investigated and learned without hinting at his origins. Iqniq felt the weight of his newfound responsibilities and was determined to perform to the best of his ability and learn from his mistakes. In a sense, he wore both egos as each served their purpose. But here and now? And in her presence? That which made him Kero was eclipsed by all that she'd given him. He was Iqniq.
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#3
w8 editing bc ku, idk if ech is back @ this point yet??? throw her in if yes otherwise ignore and lmk i am derp

His response was swift. Iqniq. And he said it so perfectly, as it was meant to be said, adopting even her own accent and having made it his own. "Ima," she responds, nodding: yes. Tonravik could understand his using of his second-name, could understand the secrecy that was not misplaced as she had told him: no one is to know of us. Not of the lands, not of its wolves, and not what they would become, or who they were becoming. He had been Iqniq since the day that she had first seen him, but now he seemed to know it for himself. This was important.

"I have seen your loyalty, your dedication," she hums, and moves to press her snout into his temple before withdrawing, "And now you run beside me. You have made but one error, and I know you will not make it again." She referred to Zhavvi; but it had been discussed and she trusted that he would not let another run from them, or waste his breath in giving any command that could aid them. Together they dragged another plains wolf to their leader, and afterward, they together agreed what was right. He was a good man, a good leader.

And soon, a father.

"To become Tartok," she hums, "You must let go of what once was. Family. Your name. Old allegiances. Above anything else," she hums, "is Tartok. The good of the pack, of this family. You were once Iqniq Anneriwok; you chose to follow, knowing what it meant. You have protected, fought, sparred, and risen. You have stayed. You understand." She looks to him, now, her ears cupping forward. Iqniq Anneriwok—the flame in the sky chooses. The woman is quiet for a brief moment again. "You know what is to come, and what may come."

The woman then howls, calling for those of their name to join her, now. She called for @Kroc who had seen him, and @Echelon who had known him some. Together they would determine if this was the day he would bear the name Tartok.
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#4
i kind of intended her to be back on the same day that they were, so... yeah? IDK. if we fucked up our own timeline then we've fucked it up and we'll roll with it lmfao.

When it came down to it, Echelon found she was never truly that far away from Tonravik. Whether it was some instinctual or metaphysical compass that kept her nearby, she was there. So when Tonravik called for her and for Kroc, Echelon hastily tore away from her tasks and headed to her.

As she arrived on the scene, she gave it a quick appraisal. From the location to the participants, it was an easy summary that something important was to happen here. Her eyes gave Kerosene a once-over as she closed in the distance to the group, and then ultimately shifted to that of her aokkatti. Tonravik was the one that she greeted with some affection as she came to rest at her side silently, and standing in wait.
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The howl brought her out of a light nap, something she didn't often take. It was not that she was lazing but the heat of the day had driven her into a cooler den, letting an hour or two pass. This was drawn short as her head lifted and her body soon after to carry her from her self appointed confinement. The day, still warm, now no longer bothered her, for she had a mission that pushed all else to the wayside. 

Following scents and sounds and her own well founded sense of direction, Kroc headed to her Alpha's side. She felt a kind of importance to this call, a kind that did not occur everyday. As Echelon came to them, she did as well, ears twisted to attend to the instructions that would inevitably be given. 
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She replied. It was a word he did not understand, but coupled with her nod, he took it as a positive sign. He'd answered correctly. He'd answered true as he knew it. And then she kept talking. Which was strange for her as her words were seldom and few. That meant whatever she had to say was important and his ears rolled forward only to fall with some confusion as she pressed her nose to his forehead. He went cross eyed for a half second until she stepped away and continued on.

One error. He'd thought they'd gotten past that... but he discarded the thoughts as soon as she reiterated their agreement that it would not happen again. He released the breath he'd been holding and remained silent. She had more to say and the weight of her words slowly made themselves more evident. His breath caught again as he pieced everything together and translated the extent of them.

Become Tartok? He'd been introduced to their culture and had an understanding of what it meant. It was much of what he'd learned within the Spine as he understood this place to be an extension of the larger tree that was Tartok. A branch of wolves united under the same cause. Protect their own. A unit of wolves from all corners of the world united under one common name and purpose. In his own way, he understood and was already embracing that way of life.

He held no affiliations with the wolves on the outside. His own family had been long forgotten to the point where he seldom introduced himself by his given name in it's entirety. Discarding it for something new was of no consequence to him. Still, she spoke of his accomplishments in his short time of passage within her fold. He nodded, confirming each of them in turn as his own ears cupped forward curiously.

Did he really know what is or was to come? He was spared from answering that question if only because she tipped her head back and summoned her trusted few. Echelon. Tonravik's right hand and battle buddy appeared first. Back from her travels it seemed. He was spared from further contemplation when Kroc arrived on the scene and also took to Tonravik's side. He received more words from Tonravik than he'd heard in a long time and the company of her trusted few.

He stayed silent. Watching and waiting for what would come.
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In her cryptic last words, she had meant their cubs, and the war; one certain, the other, not so much. But despite that, he remained, he readied himself. If asked, Tonravik would have clarified as best as she could; but he was silent, and Tonravik was gladder for it. The wolves of Tartok—one born of it, raised by it; the other brought into it, taken and taught and welcomed by her own mother—drew to her side swiftly, as she known they would.

"Our name is given freely to none," she rumbles, looking to Echelon and to Kroc briefly. One could not marry into the name; it was something you became. Someone. "Tell me: do you think Iqniq is fit?" She looked first to Kroc, and then her gaze lingered contemplatively upon her aokkatti. She would not know him as well as Kroc, and if the woman had any questions to ask, now was the time. One married the name; objections were taken seriously, and if they could be disputed, they would be. But if not, then it would be deemed that the wolf thus far was undeserving. It had yet, in their history, to occur that one was not worthy of their name; it needed to be proven.
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The time had come, it seemed. Tonravik looked to her and the creatures gold eyes went from the woman to her mate, considering. During this time she was quiet, remembering the wolf from when they had first met and the times between then and now. The wolf standing before her had joined them, had fought beside them, learned from them and with them. He had defended the lands as fiercely as the trio that stood here with him, and had helped picked up the pieces after such a defense. She remembered his healing, and the fierce edge to his voice when the decision had been made to deliver Dumb Shit to her alpha's doorstep. 

In the time between then and now, Shit For Brains had proved himself in her eyes. "Absolutely." Her answer was finite and firm, proud to bring him into the fold, into the family. 
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Tonravik's sparingly few words was enough to reveal what they had been drawn there for, and Kroc had not left them waiting for long either. And though her knowledge of who this Iqniq was happened to be limited, she saw the strengths in him as she had the others. She had her doubts, of course, but when it came down to it she had her doubts in all things. And if there had been even so much as an ounce of unworthiness in him, she knew that Tonravik would not have been standing there calmly beside him, let alone carrying his cubs.

So she nodded her agreement, opting not to have words to speak on the matter. He had done well by them and she assumed would continue to do so. And if he didn't, or if he somehow went against all that they stood for... then she knew he would meet a swift end at their jaws all the same. No wolf unworthy of the Tartok name carried it for long.
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Ahh. This was about the Tartok name and whether he'd proven himself worthy of it. He shifted briefly on his paws before falling stoic and neutral as Tonravik looked to her Tartok family for their opinion of him. Kroc he knew. Looking to her, she didn't hesitate in the least before she offered up her assurance. Echelon? He'd met her in passing only once before and had no idea what assumptions she might make from letting her eyes fall on him now. Then she nodded in the affirmative. He was supported by both.

He held his silence as his eyes swept back to Tonravik. She'd sought counsel, but ultimately the decision was hers. Kerosene. No. Iqniq lingered patiently. For as much as he desired to share the same name as his children (there'd been no discussion on it, but he knew they were fully hers) he understood that this was not his decision to make. He waited.
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They accepted. Her gaze lingered on Echelon, but then moved back to her mate. 

"We are Tartok," she hums, looking her mate in the eye. "We can, we will." And it was here she fell into their code, so he would understand it, know it; and when she had finished, the woman moved to him, pressing herself against his sides. He had been adopted into the fold. No longer was he who he had ever been before. 

The leader looked to him, proud and pleased. "Iqniq Tartok," she hums, "Tunngasugit—welcome," they had always been family, but now, they shared the name with so much meaning to it. 
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What had been a long time coming had happened. Shit For Brains Iqniq was officially one of them and would carry on the legacy that Tonravik's own mother had started. The four of them together, for there were no others in the Spine who had earned the right, would remain bonded until they died or turned against Tartok, which would have them meet the same fate (only in a much earlier grave).

Her tail waved briefly, approving of this event as her voice echoed Tonravik's. "We can, we will." Their number was one larger and together, they would hold these lands and keep the Spine a secure branch of the ever-growing tree. 
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Tonravik left her side as she spoke and for a moment, Echelon felt the spark of jealousy cross her mind. Yet it was just as stifled as many of her emotions, easily smothered beneath the blanket of a much greater cause. Her eyes settled on Iqniq, void of any discernible feeling as Kroc's own words echoed after their issumatar. Echelon concurred with these things as well in a guttural, low murmur; the throaty call would stay with them and not venture far. It was not often that there were others who were brought further into the fold. While they may have existed within the same pack, inhabited the same space even, their ties to Tartok were more than just where they lived. Theirs was a culture meant to continue, and with some understanding to the concept Echelon knew that Iqniq would hopefully be one of many beneath Tonravik's reign.
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That was it, every wolf was in agreement and Tonravik spoke, welcoming him officially into the fold. We can. We will. He met her gaze as she stepped forward pressing herself against him. He nudged her back in kind, accepting of her embrace as Kroc and Echelon uttered their creed. "We can. We will." He confirmed, repeating it as well. Not too long ago he'd been but a stranger to this world. It warmed him to know he was now a part of it. Worthy of it.

He nuzzled his mate before stepping to greet the females before him. He licked each of their chins in turn. First Kroc. Then Echelon. It was a submissive gesture and a thankful one. While he held a higher rank in this pack, when it came to Tartok he was most certainly lower in their ranks. These new wolves who served as his new Tartok family would continue to mentor him as he fully embraced himself in their ways.
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One more post from yas to fade?!
Tonravik watched him, proud to hear these words coming from him, words that had been said by Tartok since the day the odds had been against them. And they had, and would continue to do so. The dark behemoth nosed him back, a warm breath of air exhaled on his crown before he retreated to acknowledge Echelon and Nanuk. Her tail waved, and she looked to the trio before her who wore the name. Haven been given roots, Tartok would grow here, now, and spread.

The alpha female turned back to the woods, now, to lead them into the depths and perhaps find some prey to take down. She hungered... and this was one hunt she could participate in until the others would hunt for her. Not yet hindered by those within, she picked up her stride and followed the tracks of the herd of moose that lingered here.
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Their family grew, accepting a fourth into the mix now. Her tail waved briefly as their creed slipped from his mouth, a firm nod given as Tonravik turned to lead them away. With a hardy bump to his shoulder, Kroc pushed into the woods to follow the female, their bond as Tartok sure to grow during this hunt and all the ones that would come in the times thereafter.
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As Tonravik began to lead them away, Echelon fell into step with her aokkatti silently. She did not doubt that the others were in attendance as they moved on and swiftly they were there too. As the smell of prey flooded through her senses, she was hopeful that they would come across something that was good. That much she felt they were owed at that point, especially since moose seemed to loiter around in the territory with some sense of reckless abandon. And it had been a while since she had good a hunk of moose meat too.
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He grinned, a light expression worn upon his lips as he embraced his new Tartok family. It was... good to be a part of something larger than himself. And better yet? It seemed as though they were going to move on to a victory hunt. A little food to celebrate sounded like a good idea to him. He moved, slinking through the forest as they followed a pair of moose tracks that would eventually lead them to a hunt.

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