Wolf RPG

He had intended to scour the borders again, and again, to make certain the mountain was safe. But there were things that he had to attend to - eating, sleeping - and so Lazarus delved deep in to the territory, finding his way up the mountain until he found a natural plateau. The mountain rose up from that plateau further on, but he did not tread higher. The trees were thinner here, but there was one along the eastern edge of the mountainside that looked to be quite old - it had fallen ages ago, but had yet to fully rot. The roots had pulled up the soil and left a massive chunk of dirt loose, which he took to upon discovery with his pale paws. Eventually he had dug deep enough in to the soil to hit stone, and with a satisfied grunt he pulled himself free — looking upon the simple, laborious task of making his own den with a vague feeling of contentedness.

There were many new wolves in the pack of late. Charon wondered if this was what the sacrifice of losing Dhole had brought him; fresh blood, more newcomers, a healthier pack overall. Yet somehow not even ten new wolves seemed equally worthy as one Dhole at the moment, and Charon still missed her and her reliability dearly. If ever he would get his paws on Goober, he would drain life from his wretched body himself and his revenge would be delicious. Amekaze and Flóki had accepted most of the newcomers, and so Charon had yet to meet most of them.

Today as he wandered to find a ledge to just sit on and stare off into the Teekon Wilds from, he stumbled on a plateau with an old, fallen tree, and someone was digging underneath the tree. Presumably one of the newer members looking to make a den of sorts, Charon guessed, and so he approached with a chuff to announce his presence. He carried himself proudly, neck arched, head and tail carried tall; there was no mistaking from his body language that he was the top dog around here.

His underside was streaked with a mixed red-copper tone, as if the soil had included layers of clay, though it had not been so easy to penetrate as he had worked. The mess did not bother Lazarus as it might have a more vain beast. He cared little for his own appearance, being more interested in his abilities — and the skills of others — to worry over such a simple thing as hygiene. As he stood there regarding his handiwork, he was prideful. He had his head raised and tail flagged like some sort of king, and even went so far as to raise a hind leg as if to mark the den's mouth with his urine, but faltered when he saw the approaching boy.

Initially, he thought it was the Beta he had confronted earlier. The man stood stiffly in place with all four feet on the ground, and was loathe to shift his posturing in any manner, at least until the stranger was closer and he could identify them. When the pale wolf was close, Lazarus realized it was not the boy from before — still a youngster, but different — and Lazarus' posture flat-lined. He was still on-edge about the approaching entity, being naturally skeptical and territorial, but he did not lash out this time.

The stranger's posture was one thing, but his scent was a whole other matter: it was the same as the marks Lazarus had spent the previous day reinforcing (or rather, muddying by adding his own atop them; though if questioned he would stick to his story). This was the dark woman's counterpart, then? No man had tamed her, yet a boy had conquered the mountain? Lazarus inadvertently responded to Charon's greeting with a derisive snort which may have hinted at his thoughts — and to cover for that, he hastily feigned a sneeze with an abrupt shake of his head.

Challenging the Beta had been one thing — Lazarus was not so keen on fighting the young Alpha, at least not yet.

When a snort came forth that Charon interpreted as dismissive, the hairs in his neck pricked tensely and a low warning growl rumbled in Charon's throat. He made it clear he was not looking for a fight, but he was wordlessly demanding respect from his subordinate and he had better obey. Nishu flashed through Charon's mind, and it had left him powerhungry and yet more arrogant to know that he had the power to take a life, no questions asked; not even with Nishu, one of Ame's wolves, originally. No one would care for the death of yet another subordinate.

These dark thoughts were quickly pushed from his mind as he stared down the subordinate and eventually he spoke: "Found a place to your liking?" His words were laced with a thin veil of ice, as they would be until he would receive the explicit respect that he deserved. "I'm Charon, Ame's counterpart." Though he did not think that the words needed saying — his body language spoke enough volumes in regards to his stature within this pack — he wanted it clear in as many ways as possible he was to be treated properly. The stars had not given him this kingdom so close to theirs to squander it on wolves who did not know their place. Nishu had taught him that much.

Lazarus' attempt to hide his reaction had failed. It did not matter. The only opinion he cared about was that of the dark woman, and no child was going to remove him from the mountainside so easily. It would involve uprooting his budding obsession for the shadow that stalked the slopes, and Lazarus was not eager for either of those things to come to pass. He watched the boy as best he could with his head canted towards a copse of trees growing off-kilter from the rest; his ears pivoted to listen, and he could see the Alpha in his periphery, but he did not dare look upon the boy with a direct line of sight. The tone of his voice hinted at enough anyway.

With an abrupt step Lazarus pulled his body away from the den's entrance, and then turned to look upon it — his ears shifting to stay alert to Charon as the boy introduced himself — as if to allow him a glance at his work. He would mark it later. Some time when Charon was not around to watch (or perhaps circumvent). The white beast's right ear flicked at the mention of the leading female, and this was when he dared look upon the boy - though it was a fleeting glance across his face - and settle his tangerine gaze upon the child's chest. He had not heard the woman's name before, and found it curious. Ame, you say, his voice rumbled softly, choppy in pitch and tone like gravel falling with an irregular cadence across the hillside; it was good to know the name of his future wife. You have known her.. long?

As he asked this, Lazarus' gaze slipped casually up, taking root briefly upon Charon's neck line — and he wondered idly if he should try to snap his neck here and now, or wait until he had a better motive.

There was something irksome about this guy, and it probably had to do with what Flóki had said. Regardless, Charon looked at the densite the other had created, then back to his subordinate, his posture remaining bold and tall. He looked at the other when a simple question was posed, though questions like that were never as simple as they seemed.

"Long enough," shared Charon, feeling pointed at the guy's interest in Ame, as well as a lack of introduction. "And what should I call you?" Charon asked dryly, for he had not yet received a name.

This boy was about as impressive as the last. Young, his body fit, his confidence overwhelming. What sort of affect could leadership have on a young mind? Lazarus didn't entirely care, though he entertained the thought briefly. When the boy answered with vague statements - then questioned for a name - Lazarus huffed softly, as if it were a great burden to be sharing such details.

Lazarus, he finally introduced himself with a wave of his tail, having raised it to showcase his own confidence and assumed rank, though after a moment his tail sagged and swayed at his hocks. He was not afraid to show off his pride, nor was he afraid of letting his posture slip before this Alpha; he respected him about as far as he could throw him (and considering his strength, Lazarus believed he could throw Charon right off the mountain - but he didn't choose to do it just yet).

With that, the beast turned to regard his den, and his voice rumbled: I am sure.. You have work to do. As did he, although his own work was a touch more seditious. In a way he was dismissing the Alpha boy but Lazarus was careful in his manners now, calculating, and controlled his more feral desires for the time being.

As soon as the man shared his name, the irksome feelings were confirmed; Flóki had told Charon briefly what had happened between them. As Lazarus then said that Charon surely had work to do, Charon narrowed his eyes slightly. Locking eye contact with Lazarus, Charon said, "I hope you realise where you will end up if you try to fight your way up the ranks again without proving yourself in any other area, Lazarus." He pursed his lips in distaste as he turned away from Lazarus, saying, "I better get to my work now so you can think about that and finish your den. Be a shame if you never got to use it." An ear remained turned backwards, alert in case something were to happen; Charon didn't know why Lazarus had tried to overthrow Flóki, and so he didn't know if there was any danger for himself. But he had killed a member of his pack before that had bugged and challenged him. He was not afraid to do so again.

Though the older beast did not dare raise his voice to the young man, he felt a great ire stir within his blood. The boy's words sank in to him as any wound might. Lazarus knew that one day he would have to face off against this boy to prove himself to the dark woman, but he would need to bide his time — wait for the opportune moment — and as desperate as he was to unleash his great anger with his back turned, Lazarus also knew this was not the way. He let the boy run his mouth and depart, and then turned back to his den when he was alone - a low rumble permeating the air as he slid towards the entrance. Instead of entering the newly formed burrow or working on it further, Lazarus threw his shoulder against part of the exterior, and the entrance crumbled, filling with soil and dust. As said dust settled, the pale man sulked away, off to find a new location.