his travel had been quiet, mostly kept in the company of thelxiope and keeping an eye on samaantine lest she try to take the opportunity to abscond without holding up her end of the bargain. he is glad for their decision to leave, all in all. the forest had it's charms but strategically it was a mess, especially once the coast became a free for all.
samothes regards the territory with a critical eye, unable to discern much valuable intel yet. well. they'll have time. when durnehviir lifts her voice to claim it, samothes does not hesitate to join in, adding his own lilting call to the wilds. it will do.
The travel had been long – or, at least, the swarthy shadowrunner had considered it so, as he kept careful watch over his pregnant mate, feeling every step she took could cause a stumble upon the mountains.. one that might not have just endangered her, but the life that’s welled in her pale belly. Durnehviir, even with child, remained ever the graceful dragoness, and it would seem he needn’t have worried so much. Their travel had proved to be safer than living among the coastal packs in the forest.
His eyes scanned the territory as they drew from the emberwood. The sound of rushing water met the parties’ ears, and his eyes shifted over to study Durnehviir, noting how she seemed to glow. She peeked over her shoulder toward him, and as her tail flicked, a smile pressed at the corner of his lips, and he roved closer to her, allowing her to lead them to the place they would call home.
Their song echoed across the sky. The ebony Mayfair tipped his own muzzle upward, solidifying their claim with his own resounding howl – Swiftcurrent Creek was theirs.
Samaantine kept to the sidelines through the journey, quiet but ever-watching. She had already decided this pack was not her home-- it never would be. Her brother had made that clear enough.
But she was here now, and when she heard the call the Messeda girl paused only a beat before joining in. Her gaze swept across her packmates, noting each; the leading pair, her brother and the waif he trailed like a pup, the dark female and the two pale ones. She did not know many of them, but briefly she noted the similarity between the two pale females. Sisters, perhaps; one clearly stood more confidently.
The shadow did not ponder this long enough to realize her conclusion was wrong. Instead, she lifted her head to add her own howl to the mix. It wasn't home, but for now, it was a place to sleep.
Meeting Constantine had been a fortuitous event for young Phoenix. Though he had not intended on joining anyone's pack endeavors besides his sister's, he had been impressed enough by the swarthy leader to take him up on an offer to run with his small band of wolves for the time being. Them being within visiting distance to Indra and Laurel's valley only solidified his resolve to join the former forest-pack. This meant that he could be close to his sisters without harrowing them with his presence all the time. He wanted them to warm up to him, but he didn't want to over impose—making this join-up here seem like a safe bet for the time being. Besides this, it meant he didn't have to be lonely if he didn't want.
Having expressed his intentions to explore before making a final decision, it wasn't with everyone else that Phoenix made his rallying cry. He was miles out when he heard the new Creek wolves lift their voices in claim. He hadn't bothered to meet any of them yet, having only recently made up his mind about joining, but he threw back his head and sang all the same. As his notes died, Phoenix picked up a a slow jog and made to meet up with his new packmates.
As a note, Phoenix is some miles out from the group, but "has been" (read: will be) invited to join them, hence my post in the claim here :)
One by one, their songs joined her own. Durnehviir felt her heart swell with pride and appreciation for them, as they'd so willingly chosen to follow her and Constantine from what had once been their home. This knowledge solidified her belief that home was not simply a plot of land, it was instead alongside those she cared about. Swiftcurrent Creek would always be special to the russet Frostfur, but not nearly as dear as the pack that would inhabit it.
The howl faded, and she pricked a velvet ear as another trailed off in the distance. A smile warmed her narrow features as she turned to the group and regarded each of them with fondness in her eyes and a merry sway of her tail. Finally her gaze lingered on Constantine and she brimmed with affection. She reached out to him then, her nose bumping the underside of his throat. Durnehviir trusted that her mate would instruct the wolves accordingly and, content to leave him in charge, dipped her muzzle and pressed deeper into the territory in the direction she knew her birth den to be.