Wolf RPG

The morning sun broke over the tree lines in the distance, golden and nearly blinding as Crete paused to marvel at the beauty of the early morning, taking in the myriad of colors the rising sun painted the sky. Vivid reds, purples, oranges, and navy blues, all velveteen and artistically displayed. Sea green eyes diverted after a few moments, to avoid burning his corneas out of his skull and adding blind to his already full list. Being mute was enough for him. Thinking of staring at the sun and becoming blind in accordance to such a foolish action made him remember that he had heard a rumor that they had a blind wolf within their ranks. Crete was sort of fascinated with the idea of how they would interact since the blind creature would likely rely dominantly on sound and smell. Crete could think of numerous ways, fascination aside, that might be problematic, unless Peregrine or Atticus were there to translate for him. As much as Crete loved his brothers, and was grateful for their help when it was critical and important, when he needed them, there were a lot of times when Crete wanted to do it on his own. It was almost like Aether was still here, holding his paw, explaining to allied pack dignitaries that he was mute. 'Time to let go Dad,' Crete thought to himself as he padded towards one of Blacktail Deer’s numerous caches, digging at it to uncover the meats stored inside. Gingerly, Crete dropped his plump rabbit in the cache and covered it back up in a contemplative, precise manner. 'I can do things on my own.' Crete was tired of being coddled like a child, though it was a relief that Peregrine and Atticus let him do his own thing.

Some of their siblings weren’t so grasping of the concept that Crete strived for an independence he feared his disability did not allow. It was true, he had adapted to relying on his siblings for help because that was what he and they had been taught to do.

A deep breath was taken, inhaling the crisp scent of the snow, the chill stinging his lungs as it the cold air settled in his chest, before he let it out, breath rising from his leathery black nostrils in a furl of white steam. Crete had sort of picked up a personal routine that he did not usually deviate from too much (rare cases aside), hunt for himself, hunt for the pack’s caches. He followed the rule that anything he hunted for himself he had to hunt for one of the caches (this usually happened how many ever times a day Crete hunted for himself). It only seemed fair to give as much as he took (even though he typically did not like to take from the caches unless it was dire), so to speak. From adding his catch to one of the caches he made a strict beeline for the borders, liking to patrol. Even though, as Tyrannus, and even Peregrine himself, had pointed out he was hardly a threat. His muteness greatly diluted his fierce factor, but what his brothers didn’t know was he could tear apart a wolf just as well as either of them. Though his benevolence made him normally shy away from violence, if he or the pack was under attack he would not go down without a fight. And maybe his lack of intimidation could work to his advantage. The fact that he knew how to fight (and fight well, at Aether’s decree) might come as a total surprise to enemies, for not expecting it.

This was what Crete told himself, anyway. He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts as he began to pad along the scent markers, pausing every once in a while to freshen them up in places.

Crete had not inherently noticed Hawkeye’s presence as he continued on patrolling the border, blissfully unaware of his Alpha’s eyes upon him, that is until the faint wind shifted his way and he caught her scent more directly than just a recent stroll along the borders, aided by the sound of packed snow shifting and falling gracefully to the earth, crunching under each of her steps as she made the first move and approached him. Ear twitched back as his muscles instinctively froze, head turning so he could glimpse over his shoulder at her. For a moment he was almost taken aback at how she kind of looked like Aether. If Aether was still alive, young, female and lacking the giant scar that ran along the left half of his body showing proudly where he had been struck by lighting and survived to tell the albeit gruesome tale to his children (and grandchildren). Shaking the thoughts of his father away with a slight movement of his head, the mute inhaled the crisp, chilling winter air, wincing internally as it stung for a few moments before he let it out as he turned to face his superior.

Lowering his body to the ground in submission he shuffled forward to give her a lick under her chin, a showmanship of greeting from subordinate to superior. Her greeting returned, Crete turned his attention to her question. Even if he could have expressed that he was a little homesick for Flightless Falcons, but that he was enjoying himself and his newfound freedoms in Blacktail Deer Plateau, he could not. Instead he offered Hawkeye a nod of confirmation to express in a simplistic way that he did, indeed, enjoy the pack. He still thought her methods were a little strange but that was his personal opinion and it didn’t matter much anyway. He wouldn’t agree with anyone’s methods wholeheartedly if they differed from March Owl’s and Aether’s. Crete was just measurably biased that way. We will, After hesitating for a second, he reached his muzzle to brush his nose against the soft fur of her cheek as reassuring gesture, attempting to tell her that they would find a way of communicating that worked for the both of them. It would take time, as these complicated things tended to do, but they’d get it eventually. Crete hadn’t learned how to deal with his muteness magically overnight when it was realized when his siblings had began to talk and he couldn’t. This was merely another stepping stone in a path to something greater -- at least this was Crete always tried to tell himself when faced with obstacles.

The sigh that the Alpha female gave was caught by a triangular ear that twitched back before it rotated back to it’s partner’s position of alertness atop his skull. Hawkeye spoke of wanting to know what Flightless Falcon had been like, and even if Crete could have spoken he was not sure he would have been able to summon words that were accurate enough to describe it. Aether and March Owl had been a team, a true force of nature that was one to be reckoned with. Their pack mates seemed happy. It had been a good place to live. Until Tyrannus had ruined it to Hell, of course. Ears slicked back to the mute’s skull when Hawkeye butchered Tyrannus’ name. No matter how deeply his betrayal had cut Crete, it didn’t matter if Tyrannus did deserve to be thought badly of by wolves who did not know him, Tyrannus was still his brother and there was a part, albeit a small part of Crete that would always love him; despite what he had done to their pack and family in the wake of Aether’s death. For Peregrine to call him names was one thing (they were brothers after all) but Crete did not like her calling him names. Fur at his nape bristled slightly as muzzle wrinkled back slightly to state his dislike of her calling him that. Tyrannus, Crete mentally stated though knew she could not hear him. Of course, he considered that she might have honestly gotten them confused and it may have been a mistake - of which he would seek her forgiveness. Interpretation of tone was imperfect, and harder for Crete to question without jumping to unfair conclusions.

Crete’s head rose - not in challenge but in order to study her instead - when she apologized for bringing up things, and further stated her pity. Crete could not speak (oh irony) for Peregrine or Atticus but he, himself, did not want pity. Not from her - not from anyone. It was unfortunate. It was painful; but it was just another circumstance he had been given and he was making due with what he had. Crete shook his head slowly, back and forth, I don’t want you to feel bad for me. Redleaf-DiSarinno’s were nothing if not persevering in nature. Life didn’t usually go as planned, Crete had learned this from his parents and his own experiences. One could weep over them, or they could readjust their plans and trudge forward.

Hawkeye made no attempts to apologize in regards to calling Tyrannus what she had, nor in her talk of wishing to take the entire pack up there to usurp him. Not only was Tyrannus not worth that time and energy in truth, it was a foolish thing to wish for, and made him question her leadership skills in a hidden, silent way he was accustomed to doing. It was his closest way to keeping his own secrets since he couldn’t voice them and therefore did not run the risk of accidentally letting them slip. Why did she care so much about them? She did not know them. Fighting Tyrannus would not do anything for her, and neither would an entire pack rally to take down a creature that was otherwise meaningless to them. As to why Crete had not rebelled - it had been a combination of two key things for him. The shock that had paralyzed him and disabled any and all rational thought, reverting to basic instinct of fight or flight and he was no match for Tyrannus in a fight, never mind how capable Crete truly was. The second had been that it would have gained him nothing to attempt to usurp Tyrannus. The pack would never follow a mute, he couldn’t even be a leader anywhere (or so this was what Crete had convinced himself all these years). But he did not have to justify his reasons for taking exile to anyone.

Crete took the action of her ears slicking back to her skull when he shook his head at her offered pity as meaning that she did not like his refusal to accept her pity. Crete had never accepted pity. His muteness was not a weakness; and he had made his own decisions. He didn’t deserve pity. Hawkeye had his rapt attention when she began to speak once more, confirming what he had initially thought when Peregrine had admitted that she had accepted him into her ranks even though he had disrespected her initially. She had been trying to gain numbers, but gaining numbers wasn’t always the most practical thing in a harsh winter’s grip. It was more mouths to feed, which would mean any pack hunts would have to be done further away in attempts to catch a migrating herd. At least, this was how Crete thought. It wasn’t right of him to judge her, but he was so used to how his parents had run the show. He had learned by their example and he was finding it hard to accept that different wolves led their packs differently and that while he did not have to agree with it, he at least had to accept it. And if he couldn't, then perhaps he needed to move on elsewhere.

As she spoke about herself, Crete tucked the tidbits of information away in his mind. At least she knew her flaws, and that was important but they were both qualities that he saw that would, as she had stated she was doing, need work. He had his own flaws that needed worked on, admittedly. No one was perfect. She spoke of the burden of leading, and that it caused her to leave for a few days at a time. This, immediately, troubled Crete. She left her pack with no leader for days at a time just so she could be sure she could lead? It made him wonder if she truly was cut out for it. Brow furrowed as sea green eyes studied her with hesitancy. How did she know what was happening among her ranks during those days? A lot could change in days. She could easily be usurped, or a rival pack could charge in and take over. While Alphas did not always have to be chained to the lands of their packs, they at least had a second in command take over as temporary command until their return. As far as Crete was aware it was just Hawkeye that led. That is beyond risky. He thought, suddenly extremely dubious. You can’t just do those types of things.

It became apparent that Hawkeye did not like the look that Crete had given her, if the growl that rumbled in the recesses of the woman’s chest was of any indication. That was ok. Likewise, Crete didn’t like that she just left the pack without a leader for days. He was allowed to have an opinion just as much as she was, after all. That was the point of being an individual. She had not been specific previously on where exactly she went for days when she left, but she stated that she never left the plateau. Still, the fact that she left the borders of the pack without any sort of leader to temporarily make decisions in her absence bothered him. Too much could happen in days - and if she just left how did anyone know to call for her? Crete couldn’t help but feel that if she told her pack about her absence that someone would try to usurp her. There were plenty of ambitious wolves in the world, and what a more perfect time than in an leader’s absence? Tyrannus had managed to eliminate most males of their family in little more than a day, the rest followed within the next few. Clearly, she was not aware of how quickly things happened and no one was going to patiently wait until she returned to play fair.

If Crete had learned anything in his short life span it was that life was never fair. If life had been fair he would be able to speak like all his other siblings. If life had been fair Tyrannus wouldn’t have let the power he was bestowed upon Aether’s death bed go to his head.

She then turned to telling him that he had no idea what it was like to lead a pack on his own. Maybe she was right. Maybe watching his parents do it for years didn’t mean bird shit. However, Crete knew enough of himself to know that he would never leave pack lands unless he had a co-leader to watch them in his absence, and that if he felt like it was too much of a burden, if he felt unsure, he would have never elected to be a leader in the first place. A leader couldn’t be unsure because that exposed vulnerability. Crete couldn’t help but think these things, knowing he should probably be ashamed of himself since both of his brothers were drooling all over her and she was his Alpha female, but those things did not erase his opinions. They were concerns he had, and what kind of Alpha was she if she couldn’t see his concerns and try to help ease them, instead of shooting back petty things at him because he’d hurt her feelings with what she read in his body language.

Hawkeye’s next words struck a severe nerve in Crete, causing shock to pull each muscle taunt as her words echoed around inside his brain. That had been low, beyond low and oozing with pettiness that Crete, in the wake of numbness felt a searing heat of pain, and beyond the pain anger. She knew nothing. Nothing about him, about Tyrannus, about their home pack. Hell, she didn’t even really know anything about his brothers. Hackles bristled as muzzle wrinkled back from his teeth, not sure what he thought of her anymore. Any respect he had held for her was more or less gone. Crete had a lot to think about in the days to come, a lot to consider, but he wasn’t so sure, at this point, that he was going to stay in Blacktail Deer Plateau. He had no idea where he’d go or how he’d get in if he did find a place to go, but those were things to think about when he was alone and brooding. Get away from me. Pupils narrowed in their pools of sea green irises, ears slicking back to his skull as his body clearly stated that this conversation was done. And if she refused then he would take his own advice and leave.