The strong survive [J]

@Tonravik joining thread. I'm trying not to assume much until I'm comfortable with the backstory.

The large male moved slowly, scanning the unknown land around him. He had traveled alone for days, having left behind his brothers in a place where their talents were really useful. Unlike his, theirs were often more popular, bur Aariak knew that his trade was of as much use as any other. I'll be fine, he'd told his uncle the day he decided not to sit idle anymore, and set out on his own for the first time in months.

The Tartok name was in constant expansion, and it made him proud. He knew that soon enough he would find a branch where his brothers and him would finally find a home, their uncle had told them so many times, and Aariak trusted him. The strong survive, he kept repeating. They were strong.

It wasn't until the man recognized a familiar aroma in the border markings of a pack in his way that he stopped to investigate a bit further. He knew bwtter than to come right into the territory without previous announcement, so his voice rose in the air in the form of a howl, looking to get the attention of the locals, still at a safe distance from the claimed land. He hoped that this place had the Tartok mark in it, the strong hand of someone with the name ruling it.

The sound of a howl alerted the alpha female of someone nearby. Close enough to be the first to meet it, the leader moved toward the sound, howling herself to her wolves to alert them that they could join her, or they could remain where they were. She descended down the uneven slopes that led her eventually to the winter-white wolf, her features imposing as she drew closer to him until at last, she was before him. He was a comfortable distance away, she assessed.

And the stoic woman said nothing, only stared onward at him, a low snarl ebbing from her lips as her ears pressed forward. She expected one of two things: for him to leave, or for him to submit and speak. He had a strong look to him, and there was a scent or two on his hide she thought she might recognize. But until she knew for certain, she would be unwavering in this demand.  

Someone howled and his first though was "Oh shit. Not this again." His mate was pregnant and he wasn't entirely sure if the full extent of what that meant had fully settled on her shoulders quite yet if only because she was off to the races every time some wolf howled or whenever she got hungry. Forget a pup sitter. He needed a wife sitter. @Kroc. Kroc would do it.

Another howl. Yup. Tonravik was already on it.

He moved and fast. Kero arose on the scene and found Tonravik already engaging this new one with a snarl. He did much the same, settling in next to her as he firmly placed one hind paw on top of her hind foot as a subtle reminder they needed words. Actual words between him and her. Message delivered, he stood firmly on his own ground and matched her growl with a rumble of his own. They needed no words between this stranger and their own. This conversation was clear enough without them.

First came down a black beast of a female, all growls and imposing, the one whose scent was familiar to the inuit. But that wasn't all. Her scent also carried the peculiar distinction of hormonally-altered females. She was pregnant, and behind her came who was obviously her mate, a considerably large wolf whose pelt burned bright. None of them looked soft, but he wasn't expecting them to be soft, he was looking for that fire burning inside the people who carried the Tartok name. Could  be it?

Aariak knew that he wasn't in place to do anything else but submit to his receivers and explain his business, so he did. His ears fell back respectfully and the tip of his lowered tail waved amiably, but his head remained tall with pride and his expression stoic.

"I am not here to do you any wrong." the man said with his deep voice, and then turned to the female, still holding his cold gaze, "You should start thinking of relegating the heaviest tasks to your capable soldiers..." he barked, implying that he already knew she was pregnant. He didn't mean to be rude with his words, but instead to demonstrate his experience with pup birth and care and highlight how he might be helpful for them. "Do you have any caretakers here?" he asked, still neutral in his body language.

Since you didn't mention what his gaze was holding, I just assumed it wasn't Tonravik's gaze >_> Cos she would eat

Tonravik was implacable ice, all hard and cold, and watched as his ears slicked backward and tail lowered. He was amicable at best, and Tonravik took another step forward. It mattered not if he carried the name, only that he show due respect. Her own ears leaned evermore forward, doing more than words could and demanding he lower that proud head of his lest she take it from him. Tonravik knew better than to think or believe that respect was earned or gained with time. Leaders were leaders, and they were in this place because that respect had been earned long ago. Her way of it was forceful, but efficient. 

Her mate was soon beside her, and the pale male spoke. His accent was familiar, too, she realized, and she took another heavy step forward. His implication was lost on her, for Tonravik was oblivious to anything but the literal meaning of words as she knew them (if she even knew them), and the woman caught on only when he mentioned caretaker.

"You should learn to not speak unless spoken to." Her eyes darkened, her irritation palpable. The man was right; she would need to stop this. But he had called, and the call had been to familiar a call to ignore. In any case, it was clear she would not answer his questions; he would answer to her, first. Soldiers, he had said; he was familiar with the militant lifestyle they upheld here.

The woman rumbled, "Why have you called." The single question was truly a plethora of them. Who are you. What are you doing here. What do you want. She would have each of them answered.

He did not understand the reason behind why all these lone wolves wished to express minimal submission. It earned them fewer points than outright defiance if only because it suggested they were fully aware of what they should do... and were simply stubborn about doing it. His snarl deepened as he asserted himself, moving in tandem with Tonravik as she stepped forward to remind this newcomer of his place. If this white wolf did not comply soon, he'd find his place was certainly not here.

And definitely not with such blunt words. Such... observations were better left for later negotiations or simply not at all in this first meeting. It was in poor favor to criticize the choices of one who was about to decide their own fate. Kero's snarl re-bloomed within his chest as he began to pace and draw a tight circle around this new wolf as Tonravik returned a few brief words in reply. If this wolf wanted soldiers to tend to the "heavier" tasks, Iqniq took no issue in introducing this one to his teeth. Certainly he would find what he'd requested beneath the swift puncture of his fangs.

He completed his circle and fixed himself back by Tonravik's side, opposite of where he'd started. She'd met with this wolf first. He had no issue in playing the role of support so as not to make this process any more painful than it already was. Her question was valid and succinct. Until they'd made a decision about this wolf, the conversation would be one sided. He would talk. They would listen and ask questions as needed. Then he'd talk again. And so on until they could decide his fate.

The flashing teeth of both Tonravik and Iqniq were a clear signal that they wanted him to submit in order to feel safe. He wasn't dumb, he knew it wouldn't hurt him to submit, but he was stubborn, so his submission, although clear, was a forced bow with flat ears and tail tucked between his thighs while the fiery male circled around him. He too was an imposing wolf, holder of fire in all of him.

"I come to aid those with my name." he replied when his nose was almost touching the earth, "I am Aariak Tartok..." that he'd said it with pride and hoped it would answer all of the female's un-spoken questions. He felt a strange connection with the dark female, one that he was sure made his blood heat up. He had this feeling that he knew the female but he wasn't completely sure he'd seen her before. Everything about her screamed Tratok. Her scent. Her voice. The fire in her eyes.

When the male finished the circle around him and stopped at Tonravik's side Aariak allowe dhimself to rise his head, still staring at the ground.

"Am I in the right place?"

There he submitted, and Tonravik relaxed. In the natural order of things, stubborness was unwelcome when unwarranted... and if she detested it, it was all the more unwelcome. But he was swift to amend his error, and Tonravik was appeased. When he spoke again, her interest was piqued. Name...

And then, his name. Honestly, she ought to have expected that to follow, but Tonravik was dense. When he spoke of who he was, the alpha female looked him over, taking it upon herself, now, to circle him. She had never said their name to any beyond Iqniq, and she knew Nanuk and Echelon would not speak it here. Not believing that Iqniq would, either, she spoke. Instead of answering him directly, she answered in their way.

"We can," she hummed, waiting for him to finish, her eyes critical, her fangs prepared to rend flesh from bone if he did not answer correctly. Charlatans were to die; but few had the gall to parade around and pretend. Any that had were long dead.

He circled and the wolf slowly displayed a far more acceptable form of submission. Iqniq settled, by Tonravik's side, still standing, though significantly more pleased now that this wolf had acknowledged the balance of things in this place. His lips sealed over his teeth as he lingered and listened. Interesting to know this wolf was from another branch of Tartok. He wore the name. Or claimed to.

Tonravik was quick to it. He felt her posture stiffen aside him as she uttered the first half of a phrase he now knew so well. We can... To hear half of it was strange upon his ears. The second half resonated within him, bouncing off the walls of his mind. He realized then what she was up to. If he was truly Tartok, he would be able to finish the phrase.

He watched and waited. They would see.

As Tonravik herself circled around him to take a closer look at him, the Inuit's body stiffened, ready to make a move if she did. He had not seen the female's reaction to his statement, but he knew that it had made an effect on her. The tention was palpable in the air as she closely examined him all around, and his ears followed her all the time, but he never took his eyes off of the male flame's feet, wary of either of their movements.

"We can," his ears caught, and immediately his head turned completely towards Tonravik. He was in the right place. His memories took him back to his uncle. "The strong survive" he kept repeaing, but more often than not it was preceded by: we can...

"... We will." he finished the phrase with conviction. This place was marked by Tartok

His words were enough for the woman, who knew that if he was given the name Tartok, then he was a wolf welcomed here; to wear it meant it was earned. And so she drew forward to nip him companionably, growling her welcome. "You are home again," she hums to him, knowing he had moved from one branch to the next. She thought of his words, of relegating things.

"I trust I will know when this task is no longer meant for me," she responded at last, and then gestured toward their land, "But now you will aid us. You must become a warrior and a warden here, as you have elsewhere." Whatever else he could offer them, she was sure he would say now; she was far more encouraging, though still stone-faced, than she had been mere seconds ago. The tension gone, she looked to her mate, her plume waving evenly behind her.

"We will..." As soon as the wolf breathed those words it was as if the air suddenly seemed to lift a heavy weight from their shoulders. Tonravik's expression instantly shifted to that of affection as she welcomed a lost brother home. Iqniq followed suit as he released the tension he held within his shoulders and moved to greet this wolf in turn; a friendly nip and a nudge before he moved to find space of his own and offer a little more room for speaking.

Tonravik highlighted their requirements, the same as they asked of every wolf before looking to him. He nodded, recalling the Aariak's earlier words and Tonravik's ascertainment that she would know what to do when the time came. Still, it'd been a curious thing. The timing was somewhat impeccable, almost as if he'd been sent from elsewhere, and while he wouldn't question it, he was curious as to how much this one knew.

"We do not have anyone specialized in caretaking," he spoke, breaking his silence. The wolf had asked. Tonravik had welcomed him home, so he took no mind in speaking of matters that were somewhat private. "How practiced are you?"

Immediately both Tonravik and Kerosene went in to give Aariak a welcoming nudge and nip. The tension was gone and he now felt at home. He was at home, and Tonravik herself had said it, and in this place he knew that his occupation would be of use. He had come to the right place in the right time, just like it had been meant for him.

"And I will be there to care for you when that comes." he promised, feeling useful and proud. Then she told him that he must become a warrior and warden, and Aariak wouldn't have expected less, in his opinion that was the only logcal course of things, it ran in his blood and he was actually already skilled in the battle field. He agreed with a nod and turned to listen at the male, who said that there was no one in the pack that was specialized in caretaking.

"My uncle says I'm skilled... I say it's only natural. It is necessary to have someone to look out for the young, they are the future of the blood. Someone's got to bringing them up to be fierce, to be warriors. The strong survive..."

Tonravik was not so sure that caretaking came naturally. Not to all. So, it meant that regardless of the wolfs before her thoughts, he was skilled. "Your uncle," she begins, "He, too, is Tartok?" More often than not, it happened this way nowadays. There were many born into Tartok at this point, as many as were adopted. Blood-and-name alike would bind their family; their brotherhood was an unbreakable one.

She nods to his last sentiment. The strong survive. Her cubs would be strong; they would survive, and just as she, they would thrive. The alpha female was eager for the day her cubs came... though thought of the fact that not all wolves could be care-givers. Of all the wolves who were not the sort, she was on the top of the list. Little things... they could be squashed easily. Too easily. Would that happen? ...Could that happen?

Ah, she would not worry over it. She was insensitive and cruel, and although she believed in nothing, she knew that even the helpless were weeded out by natural selection. The only thing the cubs would not be protected from was herself, and the impatient wrecking ball was the greatest thing of all to fear.

This wolf was certain he could be of assistance to her. Maybe he could. For now, Kerosene turned his head aside and bit his lip as to hide the quiet laughter that brewed within him. He did not know Tonravik... not yet. When it came right down to it, she was all instinct all the time and another male or female during such a vulnerable time could prove to be a threat. Hell, she snapped at him when he lingered too long and he was the one who'd put her in this condition.

He straightened his face and turned back towards the conversation, quietly musing on his own thoughts. These males who wished to assist his pregnant mate discomforted him. He appreciated their concern, but until he knew them better he was leery to allow them such close contact with children that were not their own.

His thoughts were his own as he quieted once more and listened as Tonravik asked her questions about their extended family.

The bond that his uncle had with Tartok, although not by blood, was pure and strong. He was loyal only to his name just as Aariak and his brothers were. "Of course" he answered in inuktitut, "He knows the history of the name even better than he knows himself." probably too much for Aariak's liking. Every time he had a chance, his uncle repeated the stories to him and his brothers, and by now, even they knew them well enough to write a book about it.

Thinking of his uncle made Aariak wonder if he and his brothers would find him here. He'd been lucky to stumble upon this place, a pack marked by Tartok, which although was in expansion it still was too withdrawn from the outside world to be easy to find.

A satisfied expression was what his response had gained; perhaps she would meet this knowledgeable uncle. Perhaps not. But it was always good to hear of her family, known or not. Whatever was going on in her mates head, she could not know. Glancing to him, the alpha female only saw his straight face, having missed the moment when he withheld laughter.

Feeling their work here done, she began to move deeper into the territory. She nodded briefly to acknowledge her mate and her newest subordinate before moving toward the place that would become her whelping den.

This uncle the wolf spoke of sounded like a very interesting fellow. One day, he wished to meet him if only because he was still learning of Tartok and was curious to know a fuller version of the story than what Tonravik had supplied him. Perhaps the uncle he spoke of would one day wander this way. Until then?

Tonravik had heard and seen enough. This wolf was family and he was welcome. She moved, shifting to lead him further into the depths of their home. He caught her nod and echoed her approval. Moving on his paws, he turned and ventured back within their territory.

With a nod and a glance from the Alphas, Aariak knew that he had been allowed into the pack. He also knew that his speech about his old uncle had made a good effect on them, and he was satisfied. He too wished that his uncle found his was to them eventually, and he would receive him with open arms (nt litterally lol) the moment it came true.

With a nod of his own, Aariak reassured his loyalty to Tartok, and followed the pair into the valley. The mountains around it, forming an impressive ring or rocks, was clearly what had been of interest to the dark female and her fiery mate. Thsi place was a sanctuary, almost like an island for Tartok to grow strong without interference from the outside. This was the kind of places where warriors were brought up to be invincible. That was his task and his goal.