at the borders!! For
@Doe and
@Skellige, or any other leadership. (:
@Constantine is traveling with her, please let him respond first.
Nervous and determined, Aria stood a little ways off from a newly marked border. She knew this was Stavanger Bay-- she'd actually thought of visiting Floki to tell him about this-- but now it was something else. She didn't know the name of the pack-- or if they were just the bay wolves, but just the thought of a pack so close to her borders sent chills down her spine. They could not defend themselves from these strangers-- one wrong move and her pack was mere miles away from a possible threat.
An alliance truly was the only possible solution to this situation-- right?
With Constantine by her side, she noses his shoulder gently before letting out a long howl. She does not know the name of the leadership here, but she remembers Doe, so she hopes that the woman will bring her leader with. She sends a silent prayer to Lasher-- even though she knows she has disappointed him-- praying that his soul be near and watchful.
"I don't like how they simply settled without seeking out leadership first," he offered, his own tones silent as they drew nearer. "But I trust Deirdre when she says they seek friendship. Apparently, the Alpha of this pack saved her -- for that I feel indebted to him." His nose would brush to her shoulder in reassurance, and his voice quieted when they came upon the established borders.
As Aria called to them, the swarthy male fell to silence once more-- a vigilante guard it would seem to the Donnelaith Queen -- their budding friendship seemed to stem more from his silent support than anything else for now, and it was strange to think of how he had disliked her so in the beginning.
At once, Atoll recognized the call as that of the pale alpha's. Though until now, she'd only heard the woman's speaking voice, Atoll was sharp of ear, and good at placing tone. No doubt, this was the alpha of Donnelaith at her doorstep.
Abandoning the clam she's been struggling to open, Atoll bounded toward the black-rimmed border, tail flagging up behind her as she went. It was not hard to spot the stark leader and her faithful Con, and the beta of Blackrock approached without caution, confident in their claim on the land even if the sea had not yet risen up to bless them. This land had been given to them, after all.
Despite her confidence, she was not unfriendly. Her natural sheepishness shined through as she looked upon the pale woman and remembered her blunder at the borders of Donnelaith.
"Hello, Lady," she greeted, frowning when she realized that she'd forgotten the woman's name. It would be embarrassing to admit that now, though, so Atoll held her tongue. "And Con - Constantine," she said, correcting herself as her tongue attempted to revert to the easy nickname. For a moment, she stood silently before them - knowing what they'd come for but unwilling to let them meet the man without first briefing him and begging him to be soft toward their worries and fears.
"You must know," she said quietly, Skellige is a good man - he has been kind to me, and blessed me beyond all expectation. I have much respect for him - but he his not... not..." Oh, how would she put it? "He's not a social person," she decided at last. With that, she turned her head and called his name-sound, a slight inflection telling him that it was not danger she'd intercepted, but that it was important all the same.
The call for Doe had surprised the titan. He had been in the waters in search of fish when it had sounded overhead as a long howl. Dark ears swiveled atop his crown and he thought softly of leaving the sea and meeting whoever it had been on the edges of his pack. It was his duty to see that passersby were tended to, but if they had specifically requested his Atoll, then perhaps they had business that needed attending. Casting the thought aside, the brute dove into the waters and found himself submerged in the environment of his choosing; the dark swell of the depths – and nearby was the inky jagged rock that had been placed into the ocean waters where only the most skilled of swimmers would be able to reach it. Skellige had truly been blessed by those lands and he was pleased with his decision to locate himself there. Powerful strokes allowed for the sea king to delve deep into the waters and he clasped a large fish between his jaws. Gripping down until blood seeped into the ocean, he turned his direction for the surface and his dark head shot from the top of the lapping waves.
Pulling himself toward the shore until his steady paws touched the sands, the brute shook the droplets from his fur and went to the nearest cache to deposit his fish there for the others. It would be good to keep them well stocked with as much of the ocean life as possible. The day of the blessing was upon them and he knew that they would need their strength afterward. It had always been an exhausting day on the shores of Warsaw and Skellige knew that it would be no different on his bay. Just as he had covered the fish in the supply storage, there was the sound of Doe calling to him with her familiar chirp. His dark ears swiveled to meet the sound of her voice and he wondered what it could be that would require him to speak to her company. It was all that he could assume after having heard her call in the air before.
With a quiet huff, the wraith lowered his crown and trudged toward the edges of the pack. His muscles swayed as he loped across the sands and the granules were kicked up to collect on his wet pelt, dabbling him in pale gold. As he neared the sight of the wolves, his dark gaze drifted to the pale woman and her dark bodyguard. A frown lined his leathery lips as he closed the distance between them and lifted his skull upward. It did not matter that she too may have been a leader, it was not her lands that he had traveled to. The fur along his neck was stiff from the saline in the water, and his dark coat was spattered in pale sand that had clung to him in his trek. None of their previous conversation had been heard by the brute; he had come in with fresh ears, but he was confident in his body language and his eyes traveled between the pair of them with moderate interest.
To the leviathan, it did not matter that he had not asked their permission to settle in the land beside their forest pack; the bay did not belong to them. The Donnelaith wolves had no right to it or to call it their own, and while their discomfort was warranted, they also had no right to ask him to leave. It was a free territory and it had been spoken highly of by his mystics.
Knowing that Deirdre would wish him to speak kindly, the titan furrowed his brows and glanced to Doe swiftly before he decided to speak. “What brings you to the depths?” the water wolf inquired with a slight tilt of his head. His lips had peeled over his words to reveal yellowed canines and his russet gaze flashed with a peculiar intensity. What he could not understand was why the pale leader from the forest had felt it necessary to bring with her a guard. Had Deirdre not spoken to her leaders as she had promised she would? Doubts began to creep into his chest and Skellige found himself growing fiercely defensive over his new home. His intentions with the bay would still stand if the woman would hear it; they could keep their peaceful ways and his wolves would act as warriors and guardians over their healing home. If she decided this was not an appropriate fit… she would have to see how well her healers did against veterans of great war.
Feel free to skip Sizzle as you see fit.
Szymon was several yards away when Aria’s summons, long and sonorous, sliced through the maritime winds. One tattered ear swiveled to catch and analyze it, but the inky-ribbed wolf was already on the move by the time he filed away the voice as one he did not recognize; he was protective of their borders, having marked most of them with his own blood and the rubbings of his fur, and he expected them to be respected. As he came upon the tableau, his sulphuerous gaze regarded the lustrous white female with a mixture of suspicion, should she be of the same vein as Leokadia or Ksenia — and tentative amicability, should she be possessed of Deirdre’s gentler nature. She was unmarked and regal, a beautiful, cold sort of creature to Szymon’s untutored eye, and he could not find a threat in her. Still, he remained wary as his eyes carefully assessed her companion — a swarthy wolf whose seal brown fur and darker mask were offset by a pair of fiery eyes not unlike Arturo’s.
A low, guttural chuff of greeting rumbled like distant thunder within his breast before breaking free from his scarred jaws — his narrow head was not skulking or canted in submission but held at a suitable level for greeting strangers, higher than his shoulders but not quite so high as Doe’s head, proclaiming her greater rank. He caught the tail end of Skellige’s question, deigning to keep his own silence, and drew parallel to the scrappy little witch doctor on the other side without touching her, his shoulders in line with the swell of her ribs. She was a different wolf before this audience, and so was he. His lean, angular musculature was held with easy readiness, the set of his paws in the sand prepared for motion even while at rest. The set of his features was stoic as he remained staunchly where he stood, an observer of the meeting if not an active participant.
Doe arrives quickly, speaking fast and offering them a heads up on her alpha. Skellige, is his name, and she etches it deep into her mind. Soon after, the man himself arrives, offering a single question. Her posture is not submissive, for she is standing in her own territory still, and has no reason to bow down to this man. It is not, however, any more tall than his own, her tail remaining still and her shoulders relaxed. She was not here for war, she was here for peace.
Another man appeared afterwards, studying her harshly. She felt anxious, suddenly, being outnumbered, but kept her composure-- refusing to let them know she was fearful. "Skellige," she greets, her head dipping respectfully. "My name is Aria January, and this is my Gamma, Constantine Mayfair," she says, glancing to the dark male beside her. "We are wolves of Donnelaith."
"Deirdre was late in relaying information to me, but has told me that you wish to form a sort of alliance with my pack," she begins calmly, talking directly to the dark male. She wants to mention how ignorant he is for moving next door without talking to her-- but would hate to get off on the wrong foot. Slow down, she reminds herself, her gaze flicking to the other two briefly. "Deirdre speaks highly of you, and of your plans in Stavanger Bay. Assuming she has told me correctly-- may I hear your plans for allegiance?" She leaves it open to him to respond, but based on Doe's description she's not sure how much he'll speak in return.
They were greeted by Doe -- the timid girl he was acquainted with. His muzzle dipped down in respect to her -- custom to the fact they stood upon the brink of their lands, and he offered only a nod at her words of warning, casting a wary eye to Aria.
There was little to be said though, for the wolf who had staked claim upon their doorstep appeared, and most notable was the way he drew attention to his presence. The swarthy wolf was used to such wolves -- having run with Tartok, and while he was uncertain of their choice of home and what it meant to his pack, he did know he owed his gratitude to the man before him.
He did not voice it yet -- Aria introduced herself, and then him. Once more his muzzle tipped in silent greeting, though his fiery eyes would sweep between all three of his companions, allowing Aria and the man called Skellige to have the floor for now.
Turning her head toward Szymon, Atoll tried to convey that all was well, here - there was no need for worry. Part of the reason she'd suggested meeting on neutral ground was to keep Aria from feeling threatened by the presence of the other Blackrock wolves - Skellige alone was bad enough. Hopefully, Szymon would see the delicacy that the situation called for. All Atoll could do was be as open and non-aggressive as possible to try and counteract the natural Cairn malevolence that her alpha tended to exude.
Sitting down on her haunches to display how at ease she was with the whole debacle, Doe watched with bright eyes and attentively swivelling ears as Aria stated her business.
The pale woman spoke his name as if she knew him, and he narrowed his brows on her curiously. The words that followed were not entirely unexpected, but they were unwanted from the leader of the forest wolves. She had introduced herself as Aria January – a strange moniker for the leader of Donnelaith, but only because Skellige had anticipated that she would have been a Mayfair. Once she offered the name of her bodyguard, the leviathan turned his head sharply to capture the sight of the wolf he knew to be Deirdre’s brother. The pale witch girl had spoken very highly of him and had wished for the titan to meet him on peaceful terms. He had hoped it would have been the girl who had introduced them instead of Aria.
The woman then explained that Deirdre had been late in offering information of his settling. The man felt a tick of frustration at this thought, but he did not vocalize it. He merely held his ears aloft as she continued to speak to him, wondering what his intentions were for the bay and what he had hoped for in an alliance with the forest pack. It was all very formal; the way she spoke and how she held herself in front of him. They stood on their own ground, but the dark sea wolf could not help but to notice that she seemed uncomfortable with him.
Flicking the tip of his tail upward, the leviathan nodded his head. “My intentions were to form a coalition; myself and my wolves act as guardians and the fiercest of protectors against any who would seek to do harm on Donnelaith. In turn, you could remain a peaceful sanctuary,” he explained in a gruff baritone. His salmon-colored tongue flicked out and ran against his nose and muzzle. The alliance was a simple one, at best – it would grant the Mayfair wolves their right to practice as healers and druids. They would be allowed to live in their wood without fear. In turn, Skellige and his creatures of the water would be the watchful warriors in the sand. They were wolves of war and would only act out if their neighbors were in trouble or if their own lands were threatened…
As if on cue, Szymon appeared to stand by as an additional set of ears. He had not spoken up once, but Skellige felt more at ease having his youngest brother among them. More than this, the dark titan felt better with the company of another Mayfair wolf. Aria was the leader of the forest, but Skellige did not see it as such; in his mind, he had already painted a picture of the Mayfair rulers – Constantine, Deirdre and the rest of their family.
Even had Szymon not been plagued with the debilitating stutter that so embarrassed him in the presence of others, he was here mainly to offer silent support and provide whatever was necessary — an extra set of jaws should the meeting go awry, a pair of listening ears to bear witness at the very least. The alliance seemed logical to the youngest Cairn — the Donnelaith wolves, while not precisely weak, were not fashioned of war and honed in battle; they would not be able to deny the Leviathan’s claim on the bay without seeking the aid of a lesser pack to do exactly what Skellige’s warband intended in the first place. Too, there was much to be learned from either territory. The Donnelaith methods of healing were different than the ones to which Szymon was accustomed; Warsaw was different. And had they been taught the bounty that lay just beside them and raised seaside as the Cairns had been, these forest wolves would have remained fat and rich with muscle despite the famine. Whether or not this “Aria January” would see to reason, Szymon wanted to keep faith in Constantine that any relation of Deirdre’s would see the merit of such an alliance. Tenuous in its beginning stages, it held promise for a long lived and fruitful relationship between the neighboring packs.
Had Skellige spoken aloud on his thoughts of leadership, Aria would perhaps have done something stupid. She might've lashed out or fought for her position-- even let her relationship with Lasher slip. But Skellige did not talk more than he needed to, and left harmful thoughts left unsaid. She dips her head with relief.
"Is that all?" she asks him, but not in a way that would seem to demand more. She simply wanted to be completely clear on their boundaries-- practicing healing was by no means a problem from the Donnelaith wolves. "Deirdre speaks kindly of you," she repeats, a small smile flitting on her features. "I have no issues with this coalition," she says, "Donnelaith will gladly take part in your offer."
"I appreciate your kindness," she says, failing to add how frustrated she still was that they were so close to their borders. Her head dips respectfully once more. "It was a pleasure to meet you."
Constantine watched with muted respect to the wolves around him – Doe’s apprehension of the behemoth before them seemed unwarranted to the swarthy Mayfair, and at the hopeful promise that the wolves of the sea would leave his family to their forest and sanctuary, he felt relief flood him – though it was optimism, above all else. They knew nothing about these neighbors spare for their dishonor at settling upon their doorstep, negotiating with cubs, and not once attempting to tell the wolves of Donnelaith of their intent.
And yet without the man before him, if Deirdre’s claim was true, then his sister would have been lost from them. Aria spoke in turn – to the point, and he cast his fiery eyes to her, wondering if she was finished with what would appear to be quite a brief meeting. Unwilling to have the ebony male before him leave without a word, Constantine shifted his attention back to the larger wolf, his muzzle tipping down slightly. “Deirdre told me you saved her – that means you saved me. I cannot thank you enough,” he noted, his own voice a soft rumble as he finally broke his silence.
Atoll sat beside Skellige, making no noise and pretending she was not there. The only thing that proved she was not a statue was the constant twitch of her ears as the conversation went on around her. She was not surprised by Con's words; she'd already taken the Donnelaith boy to be a kind sort, and she knew that her king was good and merciful. Of course he'd saved sweet Deirdre - with any luck, something would come of it, too.