Somehow the boy had wandered out of Teekon Wilds in its entirety; he had slipped South along the mountain range and in to the dark recesses beyond that which was known - and it was a foolish thing. A terrible thing. Even in spring Tiarnan was not suited for his life on his own. He delved for a fortnight beyond the edge of the known lands only to surface once again, stumbling his way across the fields and through a thicket of trees. In his hunger he was weak. There was a need within him now that meant the boy would flout the law of the land - and so, with skeletal limbs shivering after every step - he came upon the base of the mountain. It held the scent of many wolves, most of which were strange to him but one which held true power. The crescent of the mountain welcomed him like open arms, but once he escaped the darkness of the forest and was faced with the reedy grassland and shale beyond, he knew there was no going back. Tiarnan lifted his head and called as best he could; his howl reaching in to the mountain with the pitch and twist of the hungry dead.
Jinx slunk down the mountainside in response to a rather urgent call. Her rules were clear: she did not entertain outsiders on her borders. The pack placed scent markers well outside the pack's true territory to ward off loners before they had a chance to get very close, yet where deterrence failed, action would succeed. A wolf brazen enough to call for her attention at the base of her mountain would answer to her warrior's blood.
The sight was familiar. She found Tiarnán, the warlock, looking much worse for wear than he had when last she encountered him. Though the Alpha female had parted with him on relatively okay terms, she nevertheless treated him like she did any outsider. Her lope turned into a galloping, wordless charge toward the yearling that somehow still clearly said, you have five seconds to turn belly-up or I'll kill you.
The wait was minimal - and she came at him like an avalanche falling from great heights. Storming towards the boy the way she had on their first encounter; defensive, hostile, and he buckled from both weakness and fealty. A whine pierced the air as he did so, folding upon his weakened twig limbs so that he was only a stain of ink and mud among the grass. With his pointed spine connecting to the earth he became a pit of writhing energy; kicking for a few minutes before his wide paws fell in to place upon his chest, exposing the tender belly. He did not know if that was what she wanted, but instinct told him it was necessary - and Tiarnan was desperate, he would appease the giant if it meant he would survive.
Tiarnán shrank into a mere shadow on the ground, but the unappeased beast rampaged on, skidding to a stop only when she stood directly over him. Ears shoved forward and tongue poked out between her clenched teeth as she snarled in Tiarnán's face, reminding him that he was a stranger here and she was in charge. The warlock had held her in thrall before, but this time, he uttered no slithery summons and she did not fear his demons. Instead, she stared boldly down at him and asked, “what do you want, warlock?” No hard feelings, of course... Just the Kesuk's paranoid, overbearing nature.
She stood over him the way he imagined the mythical giants would tower over the mortals in their fields. A great tower of ice imbibed with an eternal fire, which flared despite his grovelling. In an effort to sink lower in to the earth he wiggled and pressed himself back, becoming an ink stain - a shadow that barely matched the giant's breast. The sound of her avalanche voice shook his very bones, and for a handful of tense moments Tiarnan doubted his choice. This was not safe, this was utter stupidity. A mountain could devour a child like him. And yet he could not undo his decision, and dared not try to escape from beneath the pressure of her presence. When prompted the boy mewled like a wounded animal - for surely he was that, at the very least, driven so thoroughly by hunger - and began to chant the only thing he could: "Silvertip! S-s-silvertip, please," The sound of his desperation made his words slip and slur, his teeth wanting to grip shut, but he couldn't become silent yet - the glacier woman needed to understand him. "Mountain, Tiarnan, Silvertip, yes, please -"
Silvertip. Jinx Kesuk remained standing above Tiarnán, asserting her dominance over him and her claim to this land. This was Jinx's vision for her pack. Strong wolves who commanded the respect of those who approached their land and demanded fealty, wolves who refused to allow others to stray from protocol without consequence. Instead, the woman had a handful of wolves who scarcely knew how to respect one another, and were causing her a great deal of grief with the other packs. Only Horizon Ridge was untouched by Silvertip's collection of fools.
Still, she believed they could be shaped into the individuals she needed them to be. Likewise, she stared down at the stuttering yearling with the same critical eye she turned upon her pack mates. There was undeniable potential, and she knew the warlock would be an asset to her pack, even if in reality he had no power whatsoever. She relaxed her posture after considering this, lifting off of him to stand at his side, though still she glared.
“Will you kill for Silvertip?” she asked, forgetting that Tiarnán knew very little of her language. “Will you die for it if necessary?”
Somehow he had made an impression. Had Tiarnan been aware of the white beast's thoughts, he would have probably laughed - at least, in the days prior when he wasn't in such great need. The giant lifted herself away from him, and the so the shadow was freed. He did not initially do anything, as a skepticism had invaded his thoughts. What if she was only baiting him? What if this was a test? Tiarnan remained low, watching the ice-woman's large paws instead of allowing his autumnal gaze to shift across her face. He knew the implications of such an action and was far from eager to anger her further. The fact that she was no longer towering over him meant he must have succeeded - and then her words, foreign as they were, fell upon his ears. He only set upon agreeing with her: a fervent nod, the roll of his body so he was upon his belly once more and crawling towards her, prostrating with a reaching snout and tongue which tried to slip across her chin. Mid-motion he was muttering various things, most of which were in his own language and indecipherable, but one thing eventually rang clear, "Yes, Silvertip, yes."
“Very well,” rumbled the mistress of the mountain, reaching out to complete the ritual by sniffing the corners of his lips and then gently closing her teeth on the bridge of his snout. She couldn't remember his name, but to her it was an unnecessary detail anyway. Her wolves could have called themselves One, Two, Three, and Four for all it mattered to Jinx. She knew them by sight and, more importantly, by scent. She would commit Tiarnán's name to memory when he showed his true commitment to Silvertip.
“Welcome home, warlock,” she said, moving aside and beckoning for him to rise. She would make sure to rub her body along the length of his to cover his wild scent in that of herself, but only if he permitted. In his first moments as a Silvertip wolf, he need not concern himself with the hierarchical rights of the pack wolves. That would begin on the morrow.
Her tone changed to something more welcoming. He drank in that sound with relish, attaching himself to her with such an abrupt lurch of his body it could have been seen as aggressive - but he was glad, and that was it. Overjoyed to have someone on
his side for a change, someone who would not chase him away as readily as the wolves of the other mountain. He owed her a great debt now, but he would not think about that now. He crowded as close to Jinx as she would permit, burrowing his snout in her fine white fur and sucking in deep breaths of her musk; making a mental record of it, prior to being herded towards the mountain. An ear idly flicked at the second comment she made, zeroing in on the word
warlock - but saying nothing about it. There was nothing he could say, the word was as foreign as any other.
Exit! Yay, Tiarnan has a home. :3
Few of the wolves on Silvertip Mountain matched the ideal breed that Jinx would have liked to command, but that didn't mean any of them were invaluable. They needed training and coaxing, and in the end, would grow to become the wolves she required. Tiarnán seemed like an unlikely addition to her growing family, but his behaviour was proper for a wolf, which was refreshing. She was unnerved by some of her pack-mates, not in the way a leader becomes nervous about an ambitious second, but in the way a wild animal becomes nervous about a domestic one.
She shepherded him home, stopping briefly on the borders to remark them before leading him to the Ghost Rock Network. Whether Tiarnán was one of those strange individuals who permanently denned or not, he would find many of the wolves loitering there, and could communicate as he desired.