Familiarizing himself with the ridge would take many weeks, but Farstep meant to do it as quickly as he was able. From the point where he'd found Taggarik, he'd backtracked over the prospective alpha's tracks in the opposite direction, but had only covered two miles before he turned back. In those two miles, he'd seen many of the short spines that seemed to characterize the inner face of the ridge and had spotted at least one actual porcupine ambling along. He'd also heard the tapping of a woodpecker in the distance and had paused to listen for a while, only moving when he was satisfied that it was nothing threatening. Once along his two mile trek, the stale scent of a mountain lion's three day old scat met his nose, but with no other signs of a cat in the area, Farstep knew it must just have been passing through. Perhaps it was the same one he'd encountered at the basin of mud. The hair on his neck prickled but he moved on, unfazed.
When he turned back, he parted from Taggarik's trail of prints and headed higher up the slope, dodging miniature spires as he went. He moved up for about half an hour before the snow about fifty wolf-lengths away moved, and only then did his sharp eye catch the outline of the hare as it hopped nervously across the whitewashed ridge. He hadn't noticed his hunger before but the sight of prey made his stomach pinch and immediately he swept into a low crouch, tail held rigid and straight behind him as he crept forward.
He had noticed the hare too late to make a really stealthy approach, so as soon as it lifted its head and scanned the area with twitchy ears, the wolf broke into a run. He was a quick runner, reaching his top speed with an alarming immediacy, but the hare was too alert and got the jump on him. It tore off into a dense cluster of bushes that Farstep swung around, but the detour was enough to put the hare well out of his reach. He decelerated slowly until he was cantering with his tongue hanging out, half-hopeful that he would discover the hare resting if he kept going.
To say she was not in love would have been an utter lie -- Capri had been sold upon the ebony wolf when he had extended his offer to both she and her companion, but once she had laid eyes upon the kingdom he wished to settle, she knew this could easily become her home. The nestled slopes and the crisp air awakened her senses, and she knew that she would need to work on Terich-mir's hesitance to reside once more upon the mountains.. for now, Capri loved them dearly.
She seen very little of anyone except her best friend, and so when she caught the scent of another she had assumed to be placed within the upcoming ranks of Tagg's pack, the girl swept forward swiftly after him, her own stance cautious with each paw fall. She was determined to incorporate herself amongst this pack -- she and Terich-mir had sought out a life of their own, and the thrill she felt at this being the possibility.. she wanted to give it a true chance.
Her pale eyes fell upon his golden pelt, pleased that he seemed to be of their age. Her own paw steps were silent, but she did not attempt to mask her presence from him as she made to close the distance -- her form was held in casual curiosity -- waiting to see what his reaction to her would be.
Farstep travelled perpendicular to the slope a while, tracing the snowshoe's scent with sweeps of his nose over the chilled earth. His ears stood aloft and alert, but the hare must've sensed his insistence, for he didn't find it resting a short distance away as he had expected. It had run much further, perhaps seeking safety in the form of a warren. The drifter wasn't discouraged, though; he continued tracking it, at least until he was interrupted by the sight and sound of another wolf approaching.
Instantly his feet ceased their motion and he stood rigid, with his eyes upon her as hers were on him. They narrowed suspiciously. Yes, the life of a loner suited Farstep much more than pack life did, and suspicion came more easily than trust did, especially after his encounter with Dash. His trust would never be given blindly. The hair on his neck threatened to lift, but Capriccio showed no signs of aggression, so at best this was nervousness taking hold. Farstep seemed to know few emotions, but being nervous was the foremost one. Self-preservation was his ultimate goal and along with that came a natural tendency to be mistrustful of everything and everyone until proven otherwise.
Yet her stance was demonstrably casual and so he didn't rise in warning. He merely watched her, daring her to come nearer if she was bold enough with a sweep of his tail through the air.
The other was cautious of her -- rightfully so. She made no sound as she ambled even closer, her stance would remain of neutrality for now until a challenge was placed before her -- and until she had better determined where she stood among the unofficial Ridge ranks. Her eyes skirted over his body -- the warmth of his pelt was welcoming to her eyes and she noted that much like every other male wolf she had encountered thus far in this land, she felt a certain pull of attraction. It was all becoming far to obvious to the she-wolf to what she truly sought -- a family of her own. But this was a thought that was silenced, even to Terich-mir.
She drew forward only a few feet before him, her nostrils flaring as she took in his scent. He smelled faintly of the Ridge and Taggarik -- a scent she knew would become more prominent with time. She spoke nothing yet -- instead, her tail swept behind her in a friendly nature and her muzzle canted ever so slightly to the right.
His tendency was to run. Very seldom did Farstep hold his ground when an unfamiliar wolf approached, and if he did, it was frequently against other males. His brain separated hierarchy and so dominant females didn't encroach upon his pride nearly as much as dominant males did. Of course, Farstep had an idea of where he belonged in the world, so even though he would press the envelope with every man he came across, the tawny male often relented in the end. Occasionally he would not; occasionally he would claim himself to be the dominant wolf, but almost never with a female unless he damn well knew it.
So his stance remained rigid and firm as she drew nearer, though his ears drifted downward in slight deference to Capriccio's place and sex, now fairly evident from her scent and trimmer physique, mostly out of discomfort than any sort of rank dispute. He acknowledged her as his better for now. Only when her tail waved did he really relax, letting his own fall loosely at his haunches and wave tentatively in response. The cant of her head was met with an open-mouthed gentle pant, the closest to a smile he could manage, and an increase in the speed of his tail's waves as he sought her approval and acceptance of his deference, or something like that.
He bent to her accidental will -- his form still and yet his ears told of the slight shift that occurred between them -- nothing of which Capri dwelt upon for the moment. He relaxed as well, and with her tail giving another swing through the air to reveal her pleasure and welcome, her nose would tip toward him to just barely graze before his face, once more taking in his scent with a hesitance.
Introductions soon passing, the bi-toned woman was not yet wlling to break their silence with speech, and so she did what any new pack mate should do to relieve the tension -- her slender form dipped playfully, her rump waving in the air as her left forepaw gave a swat to the ground. Her eyebrows lifted, and she waited, the breath from her lips curling toward the air like tendrils of smoke as she awaited his acceptance to her invitation.
He expected something similar to his experience with Horcrux: a stand off, each trying to gauge the other and learn as much as possible whilst holding themselves at an arm's length. He also half expected Capriccio to reject his deference. It was what he'd come to expect as a loner interacting with any wolf, and it was hard to remember that he was no longer alone and that they were comrades. The nights would no longer be so cold and lonesome. Farstep still existed with that mindset, having not yet settled into Taggarik's intended scheme, so when Capriccio first dipped into a play bow, it took him some time to react accordingly.
But eventually, after a lengthy pause, he followed suit. His front half swept toward the dirty snow, his back end flagged high into the sky, and his tail cricked at its base to wave lopsidedly over his right hip. Capriccio's paw hit the dirt and Farstep was off, just like that, closing the distance with a low but jovial bound with the intent of rearing up and hooking his legs around her neck. His ultimate goal? To topple her, of course. They could play chase or they could wrestle, all depending on what she did next.
There was a pause between the two of them -- if her companion had taken another partial second to respond to her, she might have begun to even feel foolish, with her rump wiggling through the air in pure demand for play.
As it were, the golden wolf's own body fell to place almost more swiftly than expected -- his own posture mirroring hers and before she could utter a growl of approval, her newfound friend pounced toward her full force. Surprise caused her to pause, but she would soon lock her form in an attempt to maintain her footing as Farstep collided with her. No sooner did she manage to stand did his own paws wrap about her neck, and with a fit of laughter, Capri's muzzle made to reach up and tug at his ear, her own slender form whipping down to fall upon her side before she pushed to her back. Swinging her paws up at him, the Roux-Abrhen would twist to maintain her footing once more, and then she would try to dart off in an attempt to lure him to a chase.
His maneuver was successful, but Farstep had forgotten something rather crucial: his ears. Had this been a real fight, Capriccio's teeth would've shred right through the fine flesh and cartilage without resistance. This was only play, so her grip, while firm, was not enough to puncture and her tug was gentle. Even though it was play, it was something that the tawny wolf would keep in mind for next time. With his jaws wide, he pushed his muzzle against the side of her face, but before he could get a grip of any kind she slipped away and carried him with her. His momentum and awkward position on his hind legs made him tumble, giving Capriccio all the time she needed to regain her footing.
He stumbled to his own paws, jubilant with a wildly whipping tail and boyish clumsiness, and fumbled for a moment with the ground as Capriccio darted away. It took him a moment to hit his stride, but when he did, he raced after her, yet unsure which of them was the faster wolf. Farstep's greater asset was his speed compared with his strength, but Capriccio sported an agile figure, perhaps even more than his own. He threw all of his effort into thrumming his paws over the ground, and his mouth was stretched into a wolfish grin with lolling tongue as he chased her.
Her teeth managed t gently clasp at his ear, and the tug seemed to catch him off guard. A playful smirk would have been tossed his way had the both of them not stumbled, and Capri was able to gather the footing she needed to lead the chase.
Her paws were quick, though she slid against the snow at first until she gained full ground. She darted away then, feeling the cool winter wind brush against her cheeks and sting at her eyes, though it was a light laugh that escaped her as she attempted to evade her chaser. Farstep was not far behind her -- he was agile as well, and she was not sure how much longer she could stay before him, despite the sureness of her paws.
There was something blissfully innocent about two wolves forging a new bond through the act of play, and Capri swung her muzzle back to give her new friend an impish grin when she would then stumble, her paws smoothing across a starker patch of ice she had missed when not looking. Stunned, she blinked, and while she tried to maintain a level of grace, she would topple over instead, a squeal escaping her and then a laugh.
He had very little foresight, and so when he witnessed Capriccio's paws sliding on the ground, he thought almost nothing of it. As a result, Farstep himself hit the patch of ice without any care for his footing and immediately his forepaw skidded out from under him, a hind paw shot to the side, and he fell tumbled over right into Capriccio.
His breath came out in short, gruff noises, almost like laughter, but his ears had snatched back atop his head and his tail pressed nearer to his hindquarters. He knew that play could easily become serious and with no way of knowing how Capriccio would react to his very sudden collision, Farstep's nervousness skyrocketed. He twisted away, bounding to his feet as best he could, but remained lower in posture now in the event she was upset with his carelessness. His tail wiggled back and forth, still very social in its wag but held more submissively.
What had been rambunctious and carefree play had quickly turned to clumsiness, flitting pain and uncertainty. Her companion collided with her, caught just as unawares as she had been, and ‘oomphing’ lightly as Farstep crashed in to her.
As the tawny male jerked away, his entire form melting to uncertainty and apology, Capri herself managed to twist her slender form, aiming to get back upon her four paws. Her own ears slid back in understanding, her tail swaying gently through the air as she made to close the distance between the two, her muzzle chuffing softly at his cheek in reassurance that the entire situation had been no more than an accident and neither remained hurt.
Rather than continue their bout of play, the swarthy female would attempt to look over her pack mate, her nose quivering as she sniffed him briefly – both to know him better, and to determine that he was physically alright after their crash. "Are you okay? What's your name?" Not yet realizing her pack mate was mute, her concerned eyes would continue to study him.
He awaited an offense response of some sort. He expected the forward thrust of Capriccio's ears as she exerted her dominance over him, reminding him that she and only she could decide when her subordinates touched her, even accidentally. That he had played too rough and gotten carried away and should be more careful in the future. He expected her to stare him down with those powdery blue eyes of hers, to send his own true blue gaze to the ground below in acknowledgement of his wrongdoing. He even wriggled his tail faster in anticipation of ritualized admonishment, an occurrence he would readily accept from the Alpha female.
Strangely, none of that happened. He dared to lift his gaze when she didn't sling her muzzle dominantly over his neck or above his lowered head, and noticed that her ears, rather than pointing forward and up, were pulled back. She reached for him, causing an instinctual wince, but rather than clamping his muzzle between her jaws as a reminder of their respective statuses, she nudged his cheek in a manner that was far more reassuring.
His expectations, born of the behaviour witnessed while growing up in his natal pack, were shaken. His tongue swept nervously over his lips and his ears pulled up a little as confusion blanketed his features. He dared not return to a neutral posture in the event that this was a test or that she was at least a little offended and forgave him because he was so quick to admit his fault by showing apologetic submission behaviour, but his paws did shift uncertainly and his brows drew together questioningly.
He would've remained like that, but at that moment, an itch clawed its way up through his muzzle and out his nose in a quick and surprisingly quiet sneeze.
Last post for me, unless Farstep does something to encourage more? One more reply from you and we can fade.. and maybe have a more updated thread. :)
He did not answer her, and her touch did little to soothe him. She was about to ask again, her jaws opening -- and then he sneezed. Practically in her mouth.
Bemusement found itself within her gaze, and with another gentle nudge that was more persistent than the last, Capri gave her pelt a gentle shake -- reassuring all was well. Her tail remained arched higher -- only in a gentle reminder of her rank, should he read her signs as a way to oust her from her title. With a crooning growl, the she-wolf then beckoned him forward, her paws trotting their way to the direction of the pack borders.
With their play time shelved for now, Capri determined she wouldn't mind a companion while engaging in the border processes once more today, and casting a glance back, she made to see if he would follow, before her pace quickened in their direction.
Fading is good, thanks for the thread!
He smacked his lips, scarcely noticing that he'd sneezed all over Capriccio's tongue. Was that rude? He didn't think so. Hell, where he came from, rolling in an animal's scat and coming home with the fragrant smell of shit was a wonderful thing, so he wouldn't have thought much of being sneezed on. He knew nothing about diseases or germs or how they spread anyway.
When beckoned, the tawny wolf followed. He kept his posture lower than Capriccio's, but higher than moments before, for walking around completely folded was uncomfortable for long periods of time and he felt no desire on the Alpha female's end to demand submission at present. She led them to the borders, and there Farstep followed in her direct pawsteps, paw-by-paw, and marked any of the areas she passed over until they finally called it quits for the day.