Exploration was the wanderer's forte, and even a heavy snowfall, like the one burdening the ridge presently, wasn't able to keep him penned in. Farstep padded along the furthest western edge of the pack's claim, not close enough to the borders to be patrolling but far enough from the core that he was left alone for quite some time. He carried himself loftily here on his own, his tail half-mast and waving slowly as the excitement of exploring further gripped him, and his ears were pricked and turned to the sides as he loped toward a darker section of the mountain ahead.
He hadn't expected to find a huge hole in the ground there, but that's what he found. A huge hole, with snow pouring over the edges and a rim of pure ice, that was carved half out of the mountainside and half out of the ground. The wolf didn't approach immediately, instead hanging back nervously. The wag in his tail had disappeared in favour of a cautious rigid shake of the tip. His ears turned forward as he uttered a gruff sound of uncertainty. Each step he took toward it was followed by a hop back, his head snaking through the air as his nose worked furiously over the scent of water emanating from the hole, but he wouldn't yet approach it close enough to see over the edge.
Ever since his joining to the pack, Romulus had been deciding on what trades he wanted to go for and hadn't really decided yet. He was attracted to a lot, most notably mercenary, scout and hunter but he knew he couldn't possibly do all three; he had to excell in some places. Thinking, however much it benefited the young male, did not benefit the pack whatsoever and Romulus, desperate to show that he wasn't just an arrogant twit, wanted to do whatever he could to help. He had been hunting and patrolling, mostly staying in the packlands for the time being. The urge to wander was strong, but Rom suppressed it, wanting to concentrate on more important things.
It was tiring work though, especially for his mind and soon, the Roman found himself trotting away from the core of the pack towards...nowhere in particular; wherever the gods guided his paws he supposed. Rom walked with a slight sway of his tail and a proud posture but he knew better than to adopt the position of a higher rank and so despite his silent confidence, his posture was one of a low ranking subordinate. He supposed even champions of gods needed a rest, and wondered where his patron was leading him.
The wind soon blew over the scent of a familiar wolf; Romulus paused for a second, inhaling the sweet scent of cold winter air and soon realised which wolf it was. Quietly, Rom approached, inquisitive bi-colored eyes fixed, intrigued on the form of the higher ranking tawny wolf. He seemed to be unsure; nervous, though what it was that made him react that way was unknown to the yearling. Rom allowed a low whine of greeting to softly escape his maw, tail low and wagging slightly, amiably and his posture was one appropriate for a wolf of his rank.
Romulus cautiously approached and he made to lick Farstep's chin with his tongue submissively before his gaze turned to the hole in front of them that he'd just noticed. He took a step forward, curious, ears twitching slightly as he wondered what the Gamma wanted to do in first place.
Soon enough he'd gone a sixth of a way around the hole in the ground, littering the nearby snow with his prints, but he hadn't got much closer to it. A few steps, at most. Wind whistled over the cavernous gap and sent a haunting sound up into the air, which he listened to with interest and a tinge of fear. New, unfamiliar things were always frightening to Farstep, even as curious as he was. He loved to wander, but coming across something he had never seen before always elicited a very cautious set of behaviours.
His unsure dancing-in-place was halted by the sound of a whine, and when he turned about, it was to see the grey yearling whose muzzle he had gloved approaching. His ears turned forward in acknowledgement of his own higher rank, but his tail swung back-and-forth freely and his posture, albeit higher than Romulus', was fairly neutral and inviting. He reciprocated Romulus' submissive licks with a lick of his own, which may or may not have contacted the subordinate's nose, before he turned in tandem with the yearling to gaze back at the hole.
Though he had been overly cautious moments earlier, Farstep's confidence was bolstered by the presence of a pack mate and he dared to take a few steps closer to the cenote. Its contents were still out of sight, though his ears swivelled and perked at what sounded like dripping water. He licked his lips and glanced at Romulus, as if to ask whether the yearling knew what it was or not.
Romulus watched as Farstep stopped his weird, unsure stepping dancing and turned around, noticing the yearling. He allowed a quick grin to steal across his face as he wagged his tail in greeting, his posture was submissive but amiable. Rom had gotten over his hurt pride at his acceptance into Porcupine Ridge. He knew that to survive here, he would have to learn how they acted, what they did, and perhaps, he might even rise up their ranks to become Beta or something like that. For now, though, Romulus didn't have high hopes; he was content.
As he approached, Farstep licked his nose in return to his own submissive licks causing him to sneeze and grin almost apologetically at his superior before turning to what had made Farstep so flustered in first place. Like his companion, Romulus was a very curious wolf and he was curious about almost everything but unlike his tawny agouti packmate, he was rather brazen, reckless and impulsive so he wasn't scared when he approached the hole, not at the slightest. Although, he did only take a few steps, not sure what Farstep wanted to do.
Rom's bi-colored gaze grazed Farstep's and noticing the question in his companion's bright blue eyes, Romulus shook his head and lifted a broad silver shoulder in a shrug. Then he took another few steps forward, but still could not see the contents. Casting a look at his companion, he silently inquired if they should approach.
Farstep managed one more step before his anxiety began to rise once more. What if that hole housed a family of bears, or an entire conglomerate of cougars? What if it was a pit of vipers? He didn't know what a viper was but he'd encountered plenty of grass snakes and rattlesnakes in his time, enough that the sight of anything long and skinny was enough to send him in the opposite direction. No, he couldn't guess at what was in the hole, and until Romulus stepped closer to it than he, he was content to remain oblivious in spite of his gnawing curiosity.
But Romulus did step forward, approaching the hole little by little, and he wasn't instantly swallowed by it for his proximity. This spurred Farstep closer as well. The ground began to slope toward the yawning chasm, so he was careful to place his feet as he drew nearer and nearer to the edge. His tail waved excitedly but in his throats were small whines, betraying his continuing uncertainty about what lay beyond.
He wouldn't need to wonder much longer, for his caution proved ineffective. His paw hit a patch of unseen ice and suddenly his whole body was sliding down the short slope to the hole. He only had enough time to yelp as he tumbled over the edge, fell into the surprisingly warm cenote and hit the water below with an echoing splash.
There was a certain sort of bravery with Romulus that wasn't just because of the recklessness of youth. Curiosity killed the cat? More like curiosity killed the wolf because when Rom wanted to know something, when he wanted to find out something, he didn't really think about the dangers associated to it but made straight to check it out. That is, unless he felt like something was definitely suspicious or fishy, if that was so, he would approach with a bit more caution than he usually displayed. So far, the youth had not encountered any sort of terrible death, so he assumed that his attitude towards it right now was okay.
When Romulus took a few steps forward, his silver ears swiveled back slightly as he caught another pair of cautious pawsteps against the earth. It seems like Farstep had overcame his fear of the unknown hole and was coming closer as well. Rom allowed his companion to be at least half a step forward in front of him, less about subordination, more about knowing that if there was danger, it would strike the tawny agouti first and therefore give him a warning. It was rather selfish of him, Rom knew, but he had a strong, healthy sense of self-preservation as he wanted to keep his life; needed to keep his life.
Then Farstep vanished and Romulus blinked, eyes watching his companion tumble over the edge and into the unknown. Quickly, the Roman boy approached, pausing at the edge and peering down at the hole, paws clinging precariously at the edge. His superior did not seem to be injured for he had landed in a hole of water. Romulus allowed a small smile to creep onto his lips as he chuffed softly in laughter but quickly, after that, whined respectfully to ask if Farstep was alright.
Romulus can leave Farstep to find his own way out and you can fade here, or he can try to find the other end of the tunnel that leads out if you want to keep going! Up to you. :D
He struggled underwater for a moment, his hip bumping the rough bottom of the pool as he sunk into it, before he seemed to remember how to swim. He paddled for the surface and broke it with a chugging cough. He flicked water from his eyes with a sharp shake of his head as he suspended himself in the liquid, heart pounding. It took him several moments of swimming in an aimless circle to make out the faint outline of a rocky shore, and he headed for that, but not before Romulus' whine from overhead reached his flickering ears.
The agouti wolf paddled in place, craning his head back and dunking his ears under in order to squint up at the bright sky above. Romulus' head appeared over the edge and the tawny wolf panted lightly in response. He was scared shitless of the possibility that there was no way out of this pit, but at least there was land to stand upon, and he struck out for that with quick kicks of his paws. Once ashore, he could observe the cenote—a large, blueish pool of water that extended into an underground river—and he could also see a tunnel to his left.
Deciding that anything was better than hanging around here, the tawny wolf bark-growled some kind of note to Romulus, although of course there were no words and no particular meaning involved, and then padded quietly into the tunnel.
Romulus watched with barely contained amusement as Farstep struggled under the water, obviously panicking. He knew he wasn't supposed to enjoy his packmate, especially a superior suffering but he held no particular strong respect towards Farstep just yet and so took simple pleasure in seeing another wolf flailing so pathetically in the water. Soon, however, Farstep regained his senses and paddled to the surface. Rolling his eyes, he whined to ask if the tawny male was alright.
Rom didn't seem to get anything in reply for a moment and he was torn between laughing or jumping in to accompany his tawny superior. He wasn't afraid of some water and besides, he'd seen Farstep fall and he was still alive so as long as he didn't die from the impact, Romulus didn't really mind. "You want me to jump in?" he called down to Farstep, not really expecting an answer seeing as the tawny male didn't really seem to talk. Instead, his superior bark-growled something with no meaning and padded into a tunnel thing.
Romulus shrugged to himself and shook his thick silver coat before turning around and leaving, deciding to leave Farstep to his own devices.
He heard Romulus' voice in the form of grumbles, but as always, there was no understanding there. The male continued deeper into the tunnel, his attention on finding his way out rather than on the yearling waiting above, and after about an hour of wandering the subterranean network, he found his way to the surface. By then, his fur had dried into unnatural whorls and crests, and he immediately went out in search of a stream to groom himself in.