Wolf RPG

Tonravik intended to take another jaunt to investigate the territories beyond their home. She traveled along the mountain range that was their home, moving into Spotted Eagle Mountain with the intent to pass through. The terrain was no challenge at all for the expert, who picked her way across up until the last. An old, aging scent caught her attention... she was reminded of what she had come across at the Spine. The leader had no interest in usurping another territory, perfectly content with her own kingdom at this point, but she was interested in being in the know.

The scents weren't so old to warrant no caution at all. Mountains were large... and if this had not been marked in days and was still claimed, she suspected another would come 'round these parts sooner rather than later. She was not yet too close to the markers and had no interest in trespassing, but even as she sniffed, she noted that there were not many scents to note. One was vaguely familiar... and the rest, unknown.

She stood there for a moment, contemplating. And decided to move along the general borderline, having no desire to interact with their pack, only wanting to know if the place was still inhabited.

Try as he might to appreciate a forest or a stream, Fellway was a mountain wolf through and through. It seemed ridiculous that a climber would celebrate a descent by thanking the stars for being 'back on solid ground' when rock was harder than earth. What was so great about the ground, anyway? It was stuffy down there, and hot.

Fellway had scaled the range the day before, and had decided to set up camp on the sharp slopes of Spotted Eagle Mountain. He could see the Sawtooth pack from here, sweeping across their territory like a swarm of black mites. Their borders were clearly marked, and Fellway was old and wise enough now (just about, anyway) to steer clear of claimed territory.

But Tonravik had left the castle today. She lurked at its gate like huge, black gargoyle, and Fellway could not resist the temptation. He left the little man-cave that had protected him from the previous night's rain, and slithered down the mountain to meet her.

"Neighbour!" the white wolf announced in his most Alpha-esque tone of voice, turning the corner and into Tonravik's line of sight. She was a beast of a girl, broad and tall and mannish. Fellway rather liked the look of her; he had run into a string of Lady Badasses in his life, and thsi one looked like she might score very highly.

She continued moving along the borderline. It was not long before there was a wolf who came her way, an authoritative tone used. Her head turned to him and the alpha sniffed the wayward breeze that came toward her. His scent was not one so well-mingled with the hardly potent mixture on the border, but she knew better than to believe that meant anything at all. He, like her, could be a usurper. Perhaps this was a new regime. Truth be told, she did not much care who owned the mountain, so long as they kept to theirs.

He seemed friendly enough, but who could tell? Either way, she had not come to socialize, only to investigate. She felt as though she knew well enough—the place was still inhabited—and to check in later weeks on their status, she might send an outrider. Tonravik was more than happy to believe the entirety of the Sunspire Range was her own... this one put a damper on that dream, but perhaps one day her cubs would usurp him.

Her blank face betrayed none of these thoughts. Instead, she simply nodded to him, but did not stop herself from her movements, as though to make it clear she was simply passing through the area. In passing—via the birds, but not the bees—she had heard of a waterfall... her path cut in that direction.

Tonravik could not have looked any less interested in him. No reply, no posturing - not even a snarl. Fellway took the feeble nod as a personal affront. He was delightful, damn it, and craved a more colourful reaction than that.

"Hey, wait!" he called to that end, tailing the black Alpha at a heavy canter. It was a monumentally stupid move, but he was old enough to know that and legitimately decide not to care. What was the worst that could happen? He would go out with a bang!, not a sigh, and what wolf didn't want to leave a mark on the earth when he left? "That's it?" the white wolf questioned, cocking his head comically to one side as he drew nearer. She was still a safe distance away, but close enough for a lunge to cause alarm. "Aren't we going to 'talk terms' or whatever it is us top dogs do?"

Tonravik heard the heavy plod of the pale wolves steps, and were it anything less than what it was she might have remained at ease. As it stood, his quick pace foretold the potential of attack, and so Tonravik herself arched her path to get out of his immediate reach should that be his intent. His words were cheery, but Tonravik trusted none. He came closer, and his question was met with a blink. The whole of her was at attention, but his finishing words brought clarity to her.

The alpha female licked her chops. "You keep to yours, I keep to mine," she responded gruffly, having no interest in other terms. "If you wish to leave yours, perhaps I might welcome you to mine." She shrugged. He was a mountain wolf, after all. It was not that simple, of course, hence the "perhaps"... but Tonravik knew all that did not matter, because this pale wolf before him led the place. It was rare leaders could acclimate to the life of a subordinate.