Trajan figures if he's going after the Mercenary trade, he might as well start now. The fledgling pack is small, with only Mato, Seabreeze and himself as members, and although worry stirs in the pit of the Roman's stomach, he has faith that they will find enough wolves eventually and the pack will exist. The only question is: if they did manage to claim the forest, how long would they be able to remain? It nags Trajan everyday — nothing ever stays, nothing ever remains. He wonders why everything has to change, why time even exists — there are moments in this universe which are too perfect and he hates the fact that when time flows, he cannot stay in those moments. He can only return to them in his memory, and even that fades eventually.
The philosopher sighs and shakes his head. It is too early in the morning for these thoughts, the sky is still dark, the only hint of morning was the bluish gray tint of the sky. It is also early to begin border patrols, he thinks, but a brief scent mark is good. It warns others that someone wishes to settle in this land, and to be cautious of where they put their paws.
Trajan licks his lips, slinking through the shadows of the trees with careless ease. Sometimes, he pauses to lift his leg, or rub his paw absentmindedly into the bushes and the ground. Border duty is something he enjoys perhaps a little too much — it allows him time alone with his innermost thoughts and to gather energy for the day to come. It also gives him, on some occasions, the opportunity to test his skills against a lone wolf. Of course, the Roman welcomes company; he admits that sometimes, patrols get boring without a friend to do it with you.
But Mato and Seabreeze were probably asleep, or somewhere else, and he has no friends in these Wilds. A shiver runs down his spine and he tosses his head, pace increasing into a light jog. He does not wish to dwell to deeply in his thoughts, even though somehow, they are always inevitable.
A flicker of interest passes Trajan's eyes, before vanishing into nothingness. It is interesting, he thinks, that Mato comes from these Wilds, but then he supposes that it really wasn't that surprising. He, himself, was born here, and that was two, nearly three years ago. Of course, in his absence, other wolves would give birth to new pups - this happened everywhere. Trajan thinks, slightly amused, that right now, there were probably a dozen, if not more wolves giving births to their pups. It is interesting, but the Roman does not dwell on it much longer, padding quietly forward.
He lifts a leg, spraying the ground, before tossing his head and exhaling lightly. "I was born here as well," Trajan says, scrubbing the ground lightly with his paws before continuing forwards. "In Swiftcurrent Creek. Then moved to Noctisardor Bypass as a pup. Then, I left Teekon entirely." He does not offer any details, figuring that Mato would not wish to hear the story of his relatively tragic and boring childhood. He doesn't mind sharing, however, if the druid does for some reason inquire on the reasons of his departure from Teekon Wilds.
you get my 100th post! :0
Trajan has a faraway look about his eyes, a look that the druid recognizes if only because he is sure that same look has been on his face many times. The look that says you are physically there but not necessarily mentally. Caught up in memories or lost in the stars (in Mato’s case). Mato was content to let him lost to his memories, not daring to break the spell. His umbra dipped ears fluttered forward, left ear twitching towards Trajan when the male spoke once more, this time answering the druid’s question. “You’ll have to forgive me but what is Rome?” Mato feels a small rise of humility that he has to ask, that he does not know but the word is foreign to the empyrean’s ears and he is afraid he has no idea what Trajan speaks of. Is it a pack? Is it a collection of territories like Teekon? It strikes Mato that hearing that the world outside of the Teekons is just like the Teekons only larger is…anticlimatic. It shatters the illusions the druid had held of it. “I see.” He is unimpressed and does not make attempts to hide it from his tone. “I do not intend to ever leave the Teekons but it's nice to know that I am not missing anything with that decision.” Mato speaks with an lofty shrug. He was born here, his energies are here. He has a desire to explore the Teekons but no further (aided by Trajan’s disappointing explanation that it is more or less the same) and he is content with the knowledge that he will never know the outside world.
i realized while writing this how out of whack mato's timeline truly is, haha. oh well, i'm just going to go with it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The ethereal druid gives Trajan his rapt, undivided attention as the older male sets about explaining to him what is Rome, a twitch of his ear, lazy is the only sign of Mato’s annoyance at Trajan’s repetition in regards to the size of Rome and what it is. The empyrean understands well enough the first time, but does not speak further, instead offering a sage nod of his head to signify that he is, indeed, paying attention and that he understands.. Trajan’s answer more or less explains the surface of what Mato had wished to know; and in truth the druid’s inquisitiveness was focusing upon these “cultures” that Trajan spoke of but for what purpose? He is not chronicler and he does not seek to convert his own beliefs for anyone else’s. He is a guardian of the earth. “I have no reason to leave,” Mato speaks it simply, as he sees it. “besides, I am content to build here, in the Teekons. It is where I was born, it is where my energies are. I am closest to the earth here. Why would I want to leave?” Reason aside he had no desire to leave. The druid cannot begin to explain the way he feels the earth and her energies: the negative and the positive. He only knows that he does. It is the empyrean’s turn to offer a lofty shrug as he pauses to kick up a few clumps of dirt.
With all that out of the way, Mato moves onto the next topic. “There is another male, named Delight, whom has joined us. He should be in the King Elk Forest by now,” The druid broaches. “I would like you to speak with him, get to know him as you and I are getting to one another now. Aer — Seabreeze as well.” Mato catches himself as he almost calls her Aerlinn to someone other than herself. Morwinyon's request is an informal one, optional but one that he hopes Trajan decides to do if only because it wouldn’t take so long for the wolves of Tindómë to become acquainted.
this seemed like a good place to wrap this up; i hope it's ok i just wrote up a little conclusion post and had it archived. c:
Trajan responds favorably to the request and Mato gives the solider a sage nod of contentment. Coming from someone whom had not been overly sociable in Northstar Vale the words are almost contradicting but …he wants the wolves of Tindómë to know one another — it’s something he has promised himself he will work on. Besides, it has become a duty of his as Morwinyon. It is his job to know the wolves that lives beneath his rule ….beyond just their name, that is. The pair continue their border marking patrol and the druid is content to finish the task in companionable silence before they parted ways.