attn
@Dio though! Sang is hankering for ur rank >_>
Sangilak had, from the day she had been a guest, displayed her willingness to contribute to the place she had heard called Drageda by some, and Sleeping Dragon by others. The former name was familiar in that it was similar to what had once been their neighbors in a land beyond this place. The latter was more known by those local to the area; neither name made much of a difference to Sangilak, who saw it for what it was in its simplest and most base form: a pack. She presumed she had not caught wind of Warbone in the past few days due to his wandering, though the present scent of Dio was one that inspired her to further her own progression.
It was him he sought with lifted head and plume, prepared to assert herself and physically assure him she was here to stay. Sangilak was a woman motivated by her ambition, which was not too terribly far-reaching quite yet but present enough to have her discontent with being in the lower tier at all. Her intent was quite clear, as was her direction. Longevity mattered quite little to Sangilak, who was a woman who could only respect strength. It was no disgrace to lose battles such as these, either; she had been bested by Warbone in her travel-worn state, and there was no shame in this; ranks were fluid things that consistently shifted. Sometimes one wished to carry the weight of the title, and other times that was not desired.
His paws press a steady path over their fringes. Although his primary focus remains the borderlands, especially after the ignorance of more than one intruder in the handful of weeks since he'd been here, he is not blind to the shifts of their flow. Even before he could understand their guests and their purpose in coming here in full, they seemed to shift to status of full-blown members no different in standing from him or any other beast of the Dragon. He was torn between suspicion and outright curiosity, often landing him somewhere in-between the two when he scented them around.
It does not take him too long to realize he is being tracked down. He lifts his nose and pulls up to a stop, in which he turns to face the brutish black female with her head and tail up. Dio quirks a quizzical brow and draws upon his own height in a manner not used in quite some time -- not since Stavern's prized son stood mirrored at his side. He has been a relatively mild presence here upon the Dragon so far, one meant to mend and reestablish himself proper among the society of wolves (and the living, no less), but he is not a stranger to imposing, proud heights as he tail hikes up over his haunches. Just.. a touch rusty, yet it comes off easily with just a shake. He's not afraid to hold onto what is his so far.
Sangilak had found him in little time, and she watched as his body adjusted into one befitting of the rank he held. Sangilak herself did not adjust her own, her eyes seeking to hold his own until he might look away or else relent. Her own tail lifts a little higher, though the degree is subtle. No doubt the nuanced movement would be noted by the one she sought to challenge this day. It need not end in violence, but perhaps it would to the minor degree as pack scuffles oft could when one would not otherwise relent. Sangilak did not change her approach or her demeanor, and did not care one way or the other how this ended—violent, or nonviolent—as she looked upon him, expression expectant. Her muzzle draped over her throat in a brief protective maneuver, in case he sought to physically cause her to submit to him. Which she would certainly do, if he did not adjust his own posture. The way she squared herself revealed just that, her weight centered and her eyes hard.
Skip me. I won't actively post until or unless I'm needed.
While there were other wolves that she could search for that would remind her of home—Gavriel, Seregrýn, Vercingetorix, even Gyda—Thuringwethil finds her in search of Sangilak. Her scent had become strong within the confines of Drageda and had done well to uphold her place. She may not be of her former home but had some small impact on her life. The Tartok wolves were often kept to themselves, quite, and to an extent it reminds her of her own. But as the current heda, and those before her, had sought the bountiful life of their own wolves and expanded into other territories and now would be no different. Integrating with another with a distinct culture, as she had with Gyda, would be a challenge.
She's distracted soon enough when Dio's scent comes into play and she searches a little bit longer until she finds whom she's looking for and an added bonus of the make she recruited some time ago. Their one on one had been limited but he'd done well in Drageda. However, the closer she came to the two, the more interested she'd find their body language. She swerves her head toward the female first, and then the male, when she realizes what's going on. Thuringwethil makes no sound but does not hide her large form, sulking into view but remaining on the outside as a spectator to find the end result of what's going on.
Last time, the grounds were a little different. She had vaguely yielded to him back then but it was plain to see that now was not the case. Times had changed a touch, he knew she was far more official, so this really came as no surprise. He knows she's confident in herself. But, he remained entirely unconvinced.
His exact ambitions may remain unclear here, but it is certain he is comfortable where he is for now. His tail stays tall, stare pointed, and rest of him unwavering. Dio ripples his silver-tipped hackles upward and rumbles lowly to suggest his understanding of this, as well as hint towards his response: no. He did not feel inclined to wilt before her so easily, not today, and not without something proving to him that she's worth it.
He squares his shoulders and narrows his mismatched eyes. She remains as is. He moves in to pressure her, teeth snapping towards a shoulder if he gets close enough. The rest of his momentum follow, for while he is not always the most swift, he knows force is an easy asset of considerable size.
Sangilak considered, for the moment, that he might be able to hold his rank. And perhaps she ought to respect that. This did not mean she would not test his merit to see if he had the mettle for the position he held over her, and for the moment she was content to. Sangilak at length flattened her ears atop her crown, at peace with letting him hold the rank above her for now. No doubt Sangilak would challenge him again were she to see little of him, but his presence here and now afforded him the benefit of the doubt. With a chuff, Sangilak adjusted her own dominant posture and regarded the Heda. The she-wolf answered most things in violence, but Sangilak was content to get to know the wolves here and not place herself in the higher ranks unless necessary. With no legitimate ambition to speak of at present, Sangilak only contended against those she saw little of and those she presumed would be easy to displace. When he snapped at her, she side-stepped away and bore her fangs submissively in an apologetic wolf-grin. If she thought Dio truly a poor wolf to be in his position above her this day she might have turned her fang against him... but given the fact that she had seen him before, Sangilak imagined perhaps things were simply a little slow for him at present. Sangilak would not enable any above her to be lazy; while she wasn't ambitious, she was an active woman who took what she could when she could.
And with their posturing finished, she moves toward him companionably and shifts to nip him. She was a feral woman, that was all; it was nothing personal to her, ever. Sangilak was unemotional and unattached. She gestured toward the border and looked to the alpha female, inviting her along to patrol.
He isn't to be questioned on this day and feels this absolution deep in his bones. Dio fully intends to uphold his status, for he feels himself deserving -- and no one has yet to prove him otherwise.
He stands firm, clicking his jaws shut with a low rumble to suggest that he means every bit of this without a shred of doubt. She showed her own teeth in a different display than his and he slid back afterward, seemingly satisfied by the slow tongue's swipe over his lowering lips as the ripples settled in the natural order of things. He glanced vaguely towards the Heda's direction (which reminds him of his own flagged tail, which slackens in that brief moment), acknowledging her clearly for the first time despite knowing of her looming on the edges here. Dio wonders what is on her mind, or what had drawn her to their company. He knows why Sangilak had come upon him now, at least -- to measure his worth, but as to the Heda's business, he can only guess.
Dio chuffs between the two of them, eager for forward momentum now that the notion was suggested. He lingers for a beat to see if their leader may be joining them further, but he soon picks up pace to a jog for the boundaries.