Wolf RPG

The night had been long and ridden with terrible dreams for young Rickon, and he felt very much like that: young. Despite being an adult on the cusp of sexual maturity, he couldn't remember ever needing or wanting company quite so badly before, and it made him feel childish— more like a boy than a man. So he wandered aimlessly; tiptoeing in that sweet pocket of darkness that lingered just before dawnbreak, he tread as lightly as his heart was heavy, and he found himself thoughtlessly at the doorstep of a pack.

The ground had warmed beneath his pads, and dark eyes trailed the slopes that loomed before him in muted awe. He would never get used to seeing mountains or being around them. Being raised in a trench had certainly introduced him to the prospect of high walls, but as gorges were inherently opposite to mountains, he always felt like he was looking at something inside-out and upside-down when he observed the cresting majesties up close. He kept outside of the detected borders, but was too interested to turn away from them; he kept the scent of wolves to his right, and continued trotting along the base of Sleeping Dragon as the sun started its daily ascent.

Ever since she had been taught about the dangers of going beyond the border, Freyja had paid special mind to the borders. Instead of wandering aimlessly, as she had the one time she had stepped beyond the protection of her home, she kept her wits about her and made she that she did not zone out. After all, if she wanted to leave she had learned that she would need the aid of one of the pack’s Gonas to protect her.

With all of this in mind Freyja flirted with the border, tiptoeing alongside as she longingly looked beyond. She loved her home, there was not denying that, but she also wondered what it really was like out there. Her time outside had been brief, but it was thrilling nevertheless.

As she skirted the borders with the geysers behind her and the wandered. As another came into view and she paused as her eyes fell upon him. Though he was a distance off she could tell that they could hear if she called, so she did just that: “Hey! What are you doing?”

The guilty conscience of a snooper made Rickon start at the loud call of a shrill voice. His flinch turned into a whirl, where thereafter he scanned wildly for the source of his accuser's tone. The small barker had an equally small body, and his eyes did not find her until after she had moved enough to catch them. "Uh, huh?— well I was..." He realized several beats too late that he had been addressed by, and was answering to, a pup. Immediately, the lone wolf was put on edge. Not because he was afraid of the child, but more because he knew what often followed after unaccompanied minors: a savage and uncompromising parent.

What was he doing? "I was lookin' for something new," he tried neutrally, his eyes casually darting around them for the sudden appearance of an adult. As he wasn't going to approach the borders, and he especially didn't aim to move any closer to the girl, Rickon withdrew into a tall sit. There. Unassuming, right? "Any new things around here?"

Oh shit. Does she know what 'new' means? How old is she? How old am I? Is this even okay?! He tried to keep his face friendly and the internal panic internal.

Her stance remained rigid as she looked upon the raven-furred wolf, her eyes as hard as stone as they stared in his general direction. It took him a moment or so to find her and once she felt his stare she puffed herself up a little taller. Even though she was alone she was still within her pack’s borders and that made her felt safe. Despite this, she was still entirely naive to the fact that this stranger could easily breach the borders.

As he asked of new things, her head tilted quickly and confusion overtook her. She didn’t know just what “new” meant, but she would take her best jab at it. “My Heda’s pack,” she replied cooly, her confusion melting into a front of confidence. Little did she know that she was giving the stranger the wrong impression of their pack.

"Your Heda's pack?" he repeated in that faux-interested tone adults get when a child has said something uninteresting by adult standards. Heda didn't mean anything to him, so he couldn't surmise who she might've been referring to. Technically, though, she had given him something of use— the information that this was a "new" pack. "Is Heda your papa, or...?" Rickon pressed, drifting as his eyes briefly checked their surroundings, further trying to think about how best to converse with a child. Would it be wise to turn and run as far from her as possible, potentially leaving her alone? What if she chased him? What if he left and something else happened upon her before her pack could? The dark wolf swallowed, drawing his green eyes back towards the small stormcloud still several yards into the pack.

She was standing at her tallest height, which wasn't saying much, and presented herself with such confidence, he couldn't imagine that this child could ever be in any sort of danger. He didn't know it was naivety; a trait he shared with the girl. "My name's Rickon. What's your name?"

As he questioned just who the Heda was, Freyja looked on with a look of disbelief. She could not, and would not, believe that there were wolves of there that did not know who Thuringwethil was. “The Heda is my leader and my mentor,” She explained stiffly, condescendence oozing from her tone as she offered the knowledge. “She’s tough and will kick your butt,” She was sure that Thuringwethil would approve of such harsh words in this instance. After all-- she was defending the Alpha’s honor!

She didn’t know whether or not to trust this wolf. Instead of offering her name in turn of his, she asked him another question. “Who is your Heda?”

"I believe you," he conceded with a smile, though avoiding laughing because he was aware the slate pup could find offense in that. The child was more fiery than he had anticipated, making Rickon wonder if the warmer earth here simply bred a more choleric wolf. His tail began to wag despite himself, and though he kept an eye out for anyone approaching, he was feeling far less nervous than when he had first been discovered. The situation was tenuous, but he was now more than a little curious about the girl— wondering at the depth of her intelligence, and if he had been anything like this early last year. "I don't have a Heda," Rickon admitted, watching for her reaction to this. "I'm all by myself for now,"

This stranger’s customs were foreign to her and she could not comprehend why he was wandering alone. Who would his buddy if he went swimming alone? Who would watch out for him? These questions and more swirled in her mind as she stood there before him, unable to voice these concerns. She paused for a moment, searching for the right words, but the only word she could offer was a simply stated: “Why?”

When she asked why, as children do, Rickon was briefly thrown for a loop. Did he explain to her that he felt responsible for his familial tragedy, and subsequently fled? Did he say something vague and unhelpful that she wouldn't even understand at this time? Or did he just outright lie to her? Would she even know the difference? Kids are complicated, he concluded, simultaneously deciding to find some sort of plaintive middle-ground between the truth and a lie. "Well, my home got really dangerous, so I'm out here looking for a new home... a new Heda to be my mentor and leader too."

Much like Rickon, Freyja was also thrown off by the other’s reply. The fact that “dangerous” and “home” were in the same sentence was something that she could not comprehend. “Dangerous?” she mirrored harshly in response. “How? I thought homes were for being safe.” This was concerning, to say the least.

Her face brightened at his next remark and the hopeful shift in their conversation.“My Heda can be your Heda!” she offered with a wag of her tail, not seeing the harm in sharing Thuringwethil.

"They are," he tried to reassure her, belatedly grasping that he'd upset her idealization of "home." He had thought home was supposed to be a safe place, too, but that couldn't always be the case. "But home is really just a place to be with your family and the wolves you love. Home can be anywhere, and it'll always feels safe, even if home can be dangerous sometimes." Hopefully, he hadn't ruined her image of what a home was, though he doubted such a spirited girl could ever find fear in a place of comfort and guardianship... Where the hell are her parents?

He probably should've felt better about not being found by a defendant of this child yet, but as was Rick's constitution, he was more concerned with the girl having an eye on her than his own safety. And it would seem that this ideology and his general demeanor hadn't been entirely offputting to her, as she eagerly offered her own Heda to the homeless loner, bringing a smile to his dark face. "Do you think you have a good Heda for me?" he asked, bemused as this wasn't typically how border-questionnaires went. "How awesome is your Heda?"

She’d noticed the wandering scent of Freyja leading in a direction she didn’t particularly like. She’d been clear in her instructions with all the puppies, especially the day in the geyser field, and yet she’s left with trailing behind the girl to the borders without another to accompany. Her ears fall back against her head and she moves carefully down the slopes and through the trees until she finds even ground. And Freyja. And a wolf she doesn’t recognize. Dark eyes narrow from her distance and it is not long before she’s upon the both of them by the time the dark straggler speaks, Freyja obviously have given him information about her home.

Without giving the girl a chance to respond, she swiftly puts herself between the child and the unknown wolf with a growl brewing in her chest. Her fur bristles and head squares between her shoulders and, with a low voice, speaks only one word toward the man: “Go.”

Suddenly, without much of a warning, the Thuringwethil is upon them. Flabbergasted by the Heda’s sudden arrival, Freyja fur bristled and she lowered herself onto the ground. Her heart raced as she looked up with wide eyes and she did nothing else in that moment but wait for what was to come.

Almost as soon as he had asked, a physical response was given. She appeared suddenly, like a maleficent nisse of the tar pits, and though he had been expecting it he was still startled by the revelation of such a cosmic entity grandstanding before him. Rickon was glad he had not trespassed, or closed the yards between himself and the child— and without making the conscious decision to do so, his body followed her command in swift accomplishment; getting to his feet, the yearling tucked his tail and made to trot quickly away.

Before he was out of sight, he paused, glancing over his shoulder towards the stately wall of black and the sterling girl at her side. Olive eyes lingered on the child for a fraction longer, before turning forward and pressing on.

It is only when the stranger is out of sight that she relaxes, but only a fraction and it's not outwardly noticeable. Her body is still rigid and closed off, allowing several even breaths before she turns around to immediately lock her gaze upon the first born Dragon. The rumbling remains low in her chest as she closes the distance, urging them back into the safety of her claim before she says one word.

"Disobeying is not something tolerated, Freyja, and for a good reason," she says, voice stern, her teeth clamping back together to grind against one another. "It is my job to keep you safe and when I tell you something, I expect you to do as I say," she adds, feeling the comfort of the mountain on their side. While nothing would likely have happened, and they hadn't been that far, Freyja is no longer the face of danger. "Do you understand?"

Freyja was well aware of the fact that she had did wrong and as she was urged to, she quickly slinked back to safety at the Heda’s command. She felt funny within, a dizzying feeling wrenching her thudding heart as Thuringwethil spoke. “Y-Yes,” she offered, looking up so that she met the leader’s eyes momentarily. Her ears laid flat upon her skull as she turned her eyes to the ground and frowned, feeling ashamed at what she did.

“I won’t ever disobey you again.” And she meant it with all her heart.

Thuringwethil struggles to keep a grimace from her face as Freyja backs down. Nothing terrible occurred this time, but what if she hadn't been here at all? They didn't know what kind of wolf the other is or what harm he could have been capable of. "Good," she says with relief but stiffens her neck as she takes a few steps and ushes her forward. "Come," she instructs quietly, leading her back to their densite.

Without another thought, Freyja scrambles to follow after the dark-haired leader. She kept herself low as she followed Thuringwethil back into Sleeping Dragon’s territory.