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The sun had yet to rise when Arturo had risen from his slumber and hunted a fawn. It had gotten spooked in the shadows of the towering sequoias and separated from it's mother it had been easy prey for the gangster. He took it down quickly in case it's terrified bleating might call it's mother to him. He sectioned it off the best he could: eating his fill, tearing off a hind leg and hip for Chusi and buried the rest in a cache for anyone who wanted it. It was only after he refilled the cache and marked it that he carried the spoil to the den he shared with his daughter. He put Chusi's breakfast in the place he normally left it, trying to be as quiet as he could as not to disturb the slumbering child. He was teaching her to hunt and she was doing well. She was a late learner and for a moment Arturo was angry at Zephyr, whom lingered in the back of his mind as a threat to his daughter, for not bothering to teach her the basic skills she needed to survive. Her mother might have been ill in her mind but what, then, had been the man's excuse? In short, Arturo knew he shouldn't have brought Chusi breakfast. She was never going to learn if he kept spoiling her but as a father it was his job to provide for his children and the idea of letting her go hungry, even if it was for the purpose of motivation and the awakening of survival instincts caused his stomach to clench. Their hunting lessons would continue and perhaps one morning she would reverse the roles and surprise him with a catch but he would see that that her stomach was full and she did not know the pain of hunger: one way or another.
Bain, Bowie, Cearney and Devin had never gone hungry and neither would Chusi. Breakfast provided he headed towards the borders to begin a patrol, his eyes and ears alert. It was a routine that Arturo had found himself falling into very easily and as the sun rose, golden and bright in the sky, painting it a myriad of pastel colors, he got to work with his patrol.
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This time, Muses had not wondered if she had wandered too far from home. She could still not sleep at night, and was more than happy to keep her adventures to late nights where she found she could not soothe her restless paws. The mountains she had passed were practically calling to her, and she knew that she could avoid them no longer. She only had to go out and see their peaks with her own eyes, to know that they truly existed. Perhaps then, she would be satiated. Now that she was alone, she traced her way back towards the taiga, wondering how far she dared go until she turned back. Instead of following the shore, she made her way along transitional lands, where the coast dared to become a forest that extended out east and to the unknown. Although she was familiar with forests, these too seemed odd to her. She shook her head without breaking the pace of her stride. What a strange world she had found herself in, with strange wolves and their strange traditions. Even though she had already decided she loved Donnelaith and all of its wolves, it was still jarring to think a female could lead a pack - and a young one at that! Still, she admired Deirdre's tenacity, and refused to allow her support waver over petty details such as age and gender. After all, Muses had long fought against such prejudices herself.
With her mind enveloped in daydreams of the future, and what path her new life might take, she barely paid any attention to the world around her. She was only vaguely aware of where she was going, vaguely aware that she was not putting herself in any danger, or so she thought. Time had escaped her, and before she knew it, the sun was already beginning to peak over the horizon. When next she bothered to look up, the sky was ablaze with colours so wondrous, she had to stop and stare. Her mouth hung agape, tongue lolling as she marveled at the beauty above her. This magical world never ceased to amaze her, and never a day passed where she could not find herself thankful for something. Slowly, without realizing it, her tail had begun to fan behind her as she savored the small moment of joy. In her mirror gaze, the colours were reflected, the pale silver masked by bursts of pink, yellow, orange, purple, and navy. For a split second, she herself was as dazzling as the dawn's light. And then she turned away and trotted onward, immediately breaking the spell. She felt compelled to move, perhaps unconsciously registering the sound of another creature stirring in the distance.
It was not a minute after when she happened upon a creature on patrol. She stopped abruptly, staring in open curiosity. She had never seen a coywolf before, and did not realize what was in front of her. He smelled just like the lands, she thought, until it occurred to her that perhaps it was the lands that smelled like him. Sighing in audible relief, she thanked the gods that she had stopped when she had, or else she would have unwittingly waltzed right into someone else's territory. Then, a second wave of realization crashed into her. She was damn close to another territory. Pinning her ears, she exclaimed a little "Oh!" And stepped back. A third epiphany came when she noticed that to the north and east of where she could, she could clearly see the towering mountains she longed to visit. So close.
thank you for joining! :D <3
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He felt the pin prickle of eyes upon him, the wind blowing down of him, but he heard her movements before her soft exhale of surprise and his steps halted, his head snapping in her direction. His fiery red-orange eyes like embers ablaze took her in, his nostrils flaring as he drunk in her scent. Any hostility the melanistic coywolf might have exhibited as she stared at him openly dissipated. She smelled of Donnelaith. A scent that, admittedly, he would know anywhere. It was a pack perfume worn upon Lotte's coat and though he had inhaled it to memorize the scent of his scarfed mummer Donnelaith's scent had became very familiar to him through her's — though he realized it should have been familiar to him before he'd met Lotte seeing as how they'd been Blackrock Depth's neighbor for a long time before that. With Teaghlaigh's alliance with Donnelaith still on waiting on the proverbial signatures he did not quite consider the woman before him Family but she was definitely a friend despite that she was a stranger.
For a moment Arturo wondered if Deirdre had sent her, or perhaps, he thought Lotte had but as sending a message via a stranger did not seem to him to be anything either woman would do he tucked those considerations away. “Hello,” Arturo offered her, the smoky timbre of his deep, accented voice cordial. For a moment he considered asking her if she was lost but as he thought that might come across as rude he bit his tongue on that one, his gaze skimming over her to asses once more as he awaited a greeting in return.
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Muses allowed several heartbeats to pass as se watched the creature, taking note of his position, his stance, exactly who he was, as much as she could tell from appearance alone. His dark fur and bright eyes were unlike she had ever seen. For a moment she was entranced, frozen in place by the strangeness of him all. He was unlike any wolf she had ever seen. A shiver down her spine broke her reverie, not because she was unsettled by the stranger, but because she was embarrassed, worried to be caught staring.
"Good morning," Muses returned with a cordial incline of her head. Her tail waved lazily, as if she could assuage her nerves by willpower alone. "I apologize if I tread too close to your territory. I only wanted to have a closer look at the mountains." She was swift to humble herself, eyes downcast only for a moment. Ignorance was not a means to plead guiltlessness, but since the male had not responded with immediate hostility, Muses supposed her best plan of action was to be forthright. She had not thought that she had crossed any borders, but with her head in the clouds, anything could have been possible.
"My name is Muses. You belong to one of the packs near Donneliath that Deirdre had menioned?" Her question was posed with some caution, for she had not yet managed to talk with the young leader at length about the nearby packs. A few had been mentioned, mostly for the benefit of Ingram, who would be able to find other youths his age beyond the pack.
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The cordial dip of the woman's head did not go unnoticed by the melanistic coywolf, who also appreciated her apology, followed by an explanation. For a moment, Arturo cast his gaze upwards to the mount that loomed in the very near distance. Again with the mountains. First Chusi desired to climb them and now they had drawn in this Donnelaith woman. What was so special about them, Arturo wondered? He saw the jagged peaks as protective sentinels that which Ravensblood was nestled betwixt but also he saw them for what they were: death traps. Then again, since his fall from Ravenshook Cliffs he had no further desire to climb any sort of rise or mount. He did not deign to re-awaken Riptide or leave Teaghlaigh without it's Ceannasach.
She spoke again, this time with an introduction. Her name was offered and a question was uttered seeking confirmation. His ears thrust forth atop his skull in her direction offering her a sage nod. "Arturo,” The Fearghal patriarch offered his own name in exchange. "This is Teaghlaigh.” He confirmed offering The Family's known name within the Wilds for her, watching to see if it would make a connection or not. Deirdre spoke the language of Arturo's mother and the gangster did not believe that, accordingly, she would struggle to remember or pronounce it as others have. “What is it about the mountain that spellbinds?” Arturo asked her suddenly, gaze lifting for a few seconds before it shifted from the earthen titan back to the woman, hoping that she could sate his wonder and give him a perspective that he had not (could not?) consider about it.
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The sound of her ow voice wove through their settings, but Muses was blind to it. She had eyes only for the unique timbre of Arturo's voice, gaze flitting from his face to his aura. "A pleasure." Her response, although automatic, was sincere, for it seemed rare that Muses did not enjoy the company of others.
Soft ears inclined to cup and embrace the next words her company spoke. Her eyes widened as she found that they sounded the same as Deirdre's strange tongue. "Teaghlaigh." She repeated solemnly, savouring the word upon her tongue; easier to remember than Donnelaith, yet just as foreign. Like her friend, Arturo said it with such pride that she was almost certain that it was his to take care of. That, or perhaps he simply loved the place with all his might, as Muses had her homeland.
"What isn't it about the mountain that spellbinds?" She shot back, a chime of gentle laughter gracing her tone, a mirthful smile curving her lips and brightening her eyes. "There is nothing bigger or more solid than a mountain. Nothing is as beautiful and dangerous. For all the treacheries a mountain might use to try and throw a wolf of its paths, within it's slopes and valleys it hides a dozen more treasures. It provides and destroys, all the while coaching it's residents to become perfectly attuned to the rock beneath their paws." It was eternally frustrating that she could not simply show others, but she tried to put it into words as best as she could. Not all creatures were meant to live up on a mountain, however.
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Arturo was, while remaining as respectful as he could be given such, dubious as she gushed with unbridled passion about what she found spellbinding about the mountain that rose in the near distance. The gangster cast another, forlorn glimpse at it as she spoke of treasures, as if she were justifying that the treasures were worth the risk. There was an old saying that Arturo liked to keep in mind as he went about life: anything worth having in life is worth the risk and his lips pursed as he considered it. It was not one that he held in regards to conquering a mountain but his experiences were left sour and festered by the unpleasant side effects of his tumble from Ravenshook Cliffs. Though Arturo did not deign to remember Riptide willingly he did not forget for the fear that it would invite his temporary alternate self back into the forefront of his mind and there was little that the gangster found more terrifying then not being in control of himself.
“Not all treasures are worth the risk,” He countered. “What is the point of striving to discover the treasures if you never even make it that far? Or never make it back to speak of them?” He frowned visibly, now, his mind circling back to his disapproval of his daughter's insistent want to climb it. “My experiences with climbing are far from great," He took a deep breath. "I took a fall from a cliff in the southern reaches of the Wilds and though I walked away with my life I suffered from an injury for a good number of months after. Neither are pleasant memories for me.” He did not mean to be so eager to shut her down, especially because no one would tell her she couldn't climb it. It wasn't his place. Chusi, however, was a different story.
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The young wolf nodded solemnly, undeterred by Arturo's obvious reluctance to hold the mountain in high esteem. She understood, however, that not all wolves were meant to scale the slopes. That was what her father had said, when she asked why they rarely had any visitors high upon the peak they called home. "Not all are made to climb the mountains." She said mildly, taking no offense. For all she cared, anyone else could vehemently detest the rocky spires, but they were not her; they would never be able to understand her love. She was not strong or brave. Never had anyone ever expected her to become a leader, or do anything great, really. But she was able to thrive in the harshest of climates, and tread where few dared to go. That had to count for something, if only very little. "I'm sorry for your experience, although the gods of great heights are known to throw of those who are not worthy of conquering their peaks." It wasn't his fault, not really. Muses saw it simply as the will of the gods, and that he was likely destined for other things. "They are unkind at times, but not unforgiving. My mother was not a mountain wolf either, but all her daughters, and myself, took to our home like fish to the sea." At that she chuckled, thinking herself clever. She didn't think that anything was really supposed to thrive in waters so salty, but there was an abundance of fish in the rolling waters of the nearby sea. Somehow, they managed to adapt.
"But you will never go back?" Although her voice rose in inflection, her tone gave it the quality of a statement. It did not seem as though the male was eager to return to the cliffs he fell from, or anything remotely similar. Muses was not one to push. "To survive such a fall is truly a blessing. You must be either a very powerful or lucky wolf. Maybe both!" She tilted her head thoughtfully, scrutinizing her company as if to see what made him so special. Everyone in these parts looked so exotic to her that she did not know how to separate Arturo from the rest.
"Well, Arturo," She shook out her coat in a dainty manner, ears flicking as she rounded her solemn gaze back onto the hybrid. "If ever you need something from the mountains, do not hesitate to ask me." It was probably the least she could do. "I might not be a powerful wolf, but I'll be damned if you meet a more reliable mountain wolf than I!" She was the daughter of a demi-god, after all. She had served her time in isolation upon the mountain to prove that she could survive. What else was there to prove?
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Admittedly, the idea of Gods was an extremely preposterous thing to Arturo who struggled to believe in something that he could neither see nor feel — this was not for his mother's lack of trying, mind — but in lieu of remaining respectful to the beliefs of this young woman he tempered his urge to scoff. Despite his skepticism of any sort of deity, the gangster found himself a bit ...miffed that she so readily and boldly! declared him unworthy to climb the mountains. The prickle of irritation ruffled in his guard hairs, a slight narrow of his eyes but he bid it all back. If he could not believe in any sort of deity then he had no right to be offended when someone called him unworthy of them. In a way, his unwillingness to conform to religion very much made him unworthy. The idea was still silly, to him, but he offered her a terse smile, composed. Business-like. He kept to his silence.
“No,” His silence was broken by his response to her question of his return to Ravenshook Cliffs. The smoky timbre of his accented voice was gruff and final. He had no interest in returning to the Cliffs for numerous reasons, the main being that there was nothing there for him. She spoke words of flattery though Arturo was unsure whether she meant them as such or not, offering that he was either powerful or lucky to have survived his fall. In the months with Riptide that followed after he looked back with a sour taste he had felt like neither. At one point, he'd contemplated putting a permanent end to it all. His bones had remained strong and unbroken but his mind ...his mind had broken and he had not been whole until it had mended itself. Thus he let the deduction up to her.
She offered her services as a “mountain wolf” and for a moment Arturo was contemplative, accepting it and wondering how he could utilize it. As it was, he had meant for a Teaghlaigh wolf to take Chusi up the mountain but Muses accredited herself as a reliable mountain wolf. “I might take you up on that offer,” He drew, thinking his words out. “Do you think you could find a safe path up it?” Whether there was such a thing or not he didn't know. “My daughter desires to climb the mountain but I refuse to let her go alone. She is young, inexperienced and loathe as I am to admit it, careless at times. I told her if I could find a suitable, trustworthy scout to take her and bring her back then she could go.” And he feared that if he did not make good on his promise that Chusi would be careless and go at it herself, inexperienced and naive as she was. That thought scared Arturo more than any other. "Would that be something you could or be willing to do?" He inquired.
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The uncomfortable silence seemed to go over her head, her expression pleasant, and somewhat neutral. She took the hybrid leader for what she saw; a man with strengths in other areas, capable of accepting weaknesses, and fully understanding his abilities. It was admirable, she thought, tail waving idly. With little else to contribute to the conversation, she waited for Arturo, watching his expression shift from stoic to thoughtful as he mulled over her offer. Before answering him right away, she turned her gaze to the distant mountain, ears remaining honed on her companion. It was not so different from any other mountain she had scaled.
"I'm sure I could." She reassured, her attention never quite returning to the male. "Give me some time to explore it thoroughly, and I'll be able to find the safest path." It was unlikely she would be able to immediately find the best, and perhaps easiest, way to scale the slopes. "But it would be in both yours and her best interest to find a capable guide. I can assure you, none would be better than I." Her father never seemed to have much concern for his offspring, for he could always create more, but she had found a comparable tenderness with her mother. She would fuss over each of her twelve children, although they were all as wild and brave as their sire.
Her pale gaze returned lazily, upright stance displaying confidence that was not typically characteristic of the young wolf.
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Her spoken assurance that she was confident that she could find a safe path up it served to satisfy the gangster. It was what he had wanted to hear if only because he did not think Chusi would forget about her (what he considered to be) reckless desire any time soon, wish as Arturo might. “Of course,” The gangster allowed with a dip of his head. “In the meantime, I will inform my daughter that I've found her an escort and that when you return with a safe path she may join you.” He was somewhat weary to put his daughter's life and safety in the paws of a wolf he did not know, one not of the Family but what was the point of his alliances if he did not treat them as Family? The alliance with Donnelaith was not as ...open as their alliance with Blackrock Depths but nevertheless Arturo did not deign to treat Deirdre's wolves any different than Skellige's.
“I very much thought so,” He offered when Muses then spoke of it being in their best interest to find a capable guide. He'd been trying to communicate that to Chusi but in teenage fashion she hadn't seemed to want to hear it. Yet, how could he let her climb a mountain alone? Just recently she couldn't even hunt for herself, and the more she acted like a child the less inclined Arturo felt to treat her like an adult. He did not desire to suffocate her but the more she rebelled the more he wanted to tighten his reign. She reminded him of Devin, who had always been a bit of a rebel but at least she had listened (but as she was Daddy's girl that hadn't been very hard to convince her to do). He wished that she remained in the Wilds, feeling that Chusi and Devin would get along very well. Yet, his eldest children had scattered to the four winds, hopefully making something of themselves.
Arturo was drawn back to the conversation at hand, studying her for another stretch of seconds. “Thank you,” The gangster offered with the utmost sincerity. “I appreciate this.” He drew his tongue across his jowls in contemplation. “Is there anything I can do to pay you back?” Because Arturo didn't like lingering in debt to others. That was bad business, after all.
The pair conversed for a little while longer before they parted ways. As Arturo finished up his patrol he hoped that Chusi would appreciate his effort to allow her, her freedoms all the while being the (perhaps over)protective dad that he was.
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