Wolf RPG

boy, oh boy, was he far from home! Casmir had left the borders intending only a hunt, but in his excitement he had quite lost track of where he was going. a rabbit-chase led him through the flatlands; he was pursued briefly by a proud, grizzled elk bull, and a short hunt that left him with a pair of voles had drawn him even farther from the plateau. 

now the boy peered up at the jagged teeth of the mountain range under which he cowered. his instincts thrummed within his breast; he knew in what general direction his home lay, but the sky was beginning to darken. he was a young wolf in a strange land, sensible enough to know that he could not return home before nightfall, and unwilling to brave the unknown teeth and claws lurking in the night.

the darkfurred bantling began to pace about the rock, seeking a crevice in which to secret himself for the night. in the morning he would set off immediately for home, and he wouldn't leave again for a long time. a low whine broke from his chest as he continued to look, fright rippling across his spine.

In knowing her mate would not harm their cubs now that she had seen him with them, she let him know she intended to stretch her legs and investigate the land around them some. By day, she stuck to the Spire and investigated some corners of her home... and by night, she moved along the mountain range from above, clean of any scents of home. The alpha female had not been given the time due to her circumstances to investigate all the land around them... and now she took some time to. She avoided Fairspell Meadows by keeping to the mountains, but already a possessive eye had lain upon it, as it had rest upon the Tarns and the Hollow. 

Still. For now, she had plenty of work to do. Knowing the place where she resided seemed important. The alpha female would sooner displace her neighbors than get to know them, but to know they were there was important. Tonravik descended the mountain range; she intended to follow her river until it turned into a creek. The woman crested a hillock, keeping away, now, from the rock of the mountain and keeping to the greenery beyond it to gain a closer vantage point of the pack nearest to them on the West end. A cool breeze ruffled her furs, and Tonravik looked mightily onward. The freedom would be short-lived, for in some short hours she would return home to check on her brood... but it felt good to finally stretch her legs again.

the scared boy heard the tread of a large creature -- another wolf, the information granted by flaring nares. there was something familiar about the scent, but not reassuring in the least, and his hackles bristled uncontrollably. he shrank as close against the unyielding rock as was possible, and saw a great dark shadow moving toward him over a rise. 

the boy gasped -- here was one of the monsters from the cave! unbidden, a growl slid from the boy's throat, and he cursed beneath his breath, for the bearlike beast had surely heard him. if he died, he would die honorably, the young wolf decided, and he stepped out from the curve of the mountain, stance wide, inviting the attack she was surely about to aim at him.

The sound of a growl from behind her caused the woman to whirl around and emit a menacing snarl herself. The woman did not forget the enemy she might still have in the leftovers of the Plains. She had been told of their dispersing, but that did not mean none still lingered. One, perhaps more, might hold ire for (potentially) killing one of theirs. While she did not know the fate that had befallen the wolf she had brought down, she imagined that not many would look upon her favorably if they knew what to look for. Scent could offer no hint if one sought the Spire, specifically... and none other had known her to know her own distinguishable odor, except for the leader, the coyote, and the one beside him. If the woman was dead, that was one less.

But the other that looked upon her was a face she could not remember, nor one that matched the typical bearing of a wolf of the Plains. He smelled familiar, but in a different way. Her own hackles melted down to nothingness, and she approached him, curious. Her bearing was easy-going, now, any evidence that she had intended to attack him gone with the passing wind. She rounded him, keeping a comfortable distance despite desiring to invade his personal space and drink his scent dry. "A cub of Lasher's," she concluded, surveying him to see what he would reveal.

she did not attack, though he had braced himself for such -- instead her sleek form approached, though she gave him a respectful berth. Cas was shaken out of his defensive stance and stared at her with open questioning in his eyes, and her words caused his gaze to widen almost comically. "how do you know my dad!?" he exclaimed, taking an involuntary step toward the woman.

all at once, his sense of danger prickled; the boy drew himself back, drew inward. his eyes grew steely and the guard hairs along his spine raged once more. "who are you?" he demanded in a cold tone -- how did she know anything about him?

The alpha watched his expression, but her own one of stoicism did not shift an inch as he processed. His cold demand was not missed, either, and to his look of indignation she offered the present stillness of her face. Tonravik was unflinching and far from unnerved. She was too curious to depart quite yet. "He was one of mine, once," she revealed simply, and then, as she tilted her head to observe him, the bear of a wolf thought she might see Taltos within him, some.

As for his question, she in turn revealed nothing. His impudence toward her had earned him that, and she snorted bullishly. But she did tell him, "He had told me of you. You have a brother, and a sister." And a man surely would not tell a wolf they did not trust this. The other was guarded, but she reminded herself that he was young, and he was likely raised to be such a way. She would want this of her own cubs.

one of hers? what did that mean? the Mayfair boy didn't ask any more questions, because he didn't want to seem like a baby twit. he gazed at the woman with what he thought was a level sort of calm, but his mind was churning with ideas of who she was and what she could possibly be to his family. at the other's mention of Eilidh and Constantine, his jaw tensed perceptibly, but he refused to comment.

he wasn't convinced she had come by the information through the beta male -- maybe she was a spy, or a former trespasser. either way, Casmir didn't trust the bear-woman. "you were in that cave a while back," he muttered, eyes resting on her face, though he couldn't bring himself to stare her imposing form directly in the gaze. "why were you fighting?"

He seemed to calm some, and another question came. He spoke of a cave, and of fighting. She could not specifically recall fighting in a cave, and tried to remember when it came to her. She shook her head. "That was no fight," she informed, ears perked atop her head. That had been she and her mate playing in the only way she knew how to in such a place... roughhousing.

Any other thing that had occurred from that day she hardly remembered. The journey had been long and that memory was but a blip that would fade in time. She did not fault him for what he would not reveal. In fact, she commended him for it. But this fact did not go unnoticed by her, who was keen to all things unsaid.

he couldn't understand -- it had certainly seemed like a fight, and that was what he and Eilidh had assumed when they ran away. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her again how she knew his father, but Cas didn't want to give the bear-woman the satisfaction of refusing him outright, instead of silently as she had done before. 

instead, he took a couple of bold steps in her direction, nostrils flaring as he took her scent. "you smell like .... milk," he muttered, not truly understanding the way that the feminine body worked in that regard just yet. "and you know where i am from," the Mayfair child added. "do you live in these mountains or far away?"

Tonravik watched him as he stepped toward her; she did the same in kind, moving toward his side to garner more details about him. He was young, she deduced; not yet at his first year, she gathered. It was all she wanted to know. His observation caused Tonravik to cast him a sharp glance. She would need to return home, soon; she would not return to the Wilds until her cubs were weaned. 

His additional comment caused her to blink at him. Tonravik would tell Lasher, whom she trusted, but not his cub... Unless he proved himself trustworthy. Rome was not built in a day. She gestured toward the mountains, opposite of the direction she had come. It was then she settled into her haunches, blinking at him. “The storm--you are unaffected?” His father was an extension of that.

"yes," he answered, deciding it was all right to tell her that the plateau had fared better than the land around it. but he did not offer any more details. he looked in the direction the woman indicated, and gave a short nod. mountains were foreign to the boy, though he longed to climb them. "what's this one called?" he asked, motioning to the peak at his back. 

he too settled back on his hindquarters, mirroring her pose for reasons unknown. idly he lifted a paw, wondering if she would mimic him, but set it back down immediately. he looked stupid. "what's your name?"

Tonravik had no reason not to believe him. She did not think Lasher would raise his son to be the perfect liar, and could see no breaks in his face, hear none in his voice. The woman would not press for more detail, given she felt she knew all she needed to from the short, succinct response. As she looked beyond him when he gestured to the mountain, Tonravik tilted her head. And then, with plenty confidence, she named the place: "Takserk Mountain." Her ear flicked. It made sense. The place seemed spotted with tiny patches of snow here and there... "spot" seemed as good a name for the place as any. The alpha female admittedly did not yet know of all her surroundings, yet, given her newness to the area in general, but that meant nothing. In life, one made their own name for things. And now, this place was named.

"Tonravik," she introduced, but did not ask for his own. Perhaps he would tell her anyway. Regardless, ones name meant nothing to her when she knew them by scent and sight. What did it matter what he was called? She watched him fidget, but remained as still as stone herself for the moment.

he didn't even try to repeat the name, but he was curious; if she named it, was it hers? also who even named things like that. "Casmir," he proffered instead, rolling the syllables of her odd name over in his head. she was staring at him, still and silent like a gargoyle, and it unnerved the boy, sending his hackles bristling at a potential implied threat. yet he smoothed out the fur and shook his ruff, standing up. 

"are you a leader, then?" the boy inquired, although from her demeanour he knew this already. still, he wanted confirmation. maybe even information.

He introduced himself in kind, which caused Tonravik to nod her head. "Do you seek to become a warrior?" Comes her next question, her muzzle lowering some to better look at him. There was something to him that suggested he could be. Or, could become one. It was this that piqued her interest in him now. Even as he stood, Tonravik did not mimic the action. She could not help the anticipatory ripple in her hinds that promised movement would come, should he draw too near.

His next question was met with an obtuse, "Yes." But it was clear from her tight-lipped response that this was all there was to say on that matter; he was no prospective joiner, and were that day to ever come, perhaps this would change. He need not even know that much, it mattered so little, but his candidness had earned him that one favor, little it would do him. His father knew more than he himself, but this little cub was not that man she so trusted.

a warrior.  he liked to wrestle, and to patrol proudly, sometimes with the intention of seeking out others to fight, but the role? Cas squared his shoulders and shook his head. "my brother is better at that than me," he answered, though it chapped his ass to admit Constantine was more skilled at anything than himself. she was vague and close-mouthed, and although she hadn't surged to attack him -- for most assuredly she could -- the boy still did not trust her.

"why do you smell like milk?" he asked, though the answer vibrated faintly in some recess of his primal brain. because he and his siblings had long since been weaned, and there had not been another nursing female in the pack, the boy did not immediately recognize the scent of a nursing mother, and so he was confused. it detracted from tonravik's otherwise stalwart demeanour.

Tonravik listened to his words, but her face remained a stone wall. "That can change," she simply remarked, hoping to inspire a change in him with the seed of that idea. If not, it was no matter to her. If so? It would be something to remember her by. Something that might one day bring his return. His next question brought back his thoughts of milk. Tonravik flicked an ear thoughtfully.

But she would not betray the reason, lest he ran into any others on his trip home and she came up, and he informed them of cubs. Instead, the alpha female rose to all fours and shook out her furs briefly. She decided she had been gone for too long. "One day, you will know," she decided instead. Today was not that day. She nodded to him and made to depart his company and head back. An ear rotated backward to catch any pause he might try to give her.

she was odd. weird. but she got him to thinking. he would have to fight for the forest -- it would not just be handed to him, not with an older brother in the way. perhaps he would need to be a warrior after all. "bye," he called as Tonravik stood abruptly to her feet, answering his question with one of those stupid phrases adults used. why couldn't he know now? Cas watched her go, and then turned himself toward home, intending to ask his mother about the milk thing and have a nap, in that order.