Wolf RPG

The herald of a fertility festival is what had coaxed Vonnaruil towards up from his Diasporian debt towards the realm of Elysium; really, who better than the philanderer to see what such celebrations had to give? As it was, though, he’d arrived to the Hushed perimeters a tad too late — several days too late, actually.

In truth, the Crow was keen to spend some time without Stigmata’s payment; it had been almost two months since he’d toiled for the mountain-lord’s favor, and as it was, the pressing matter of the Vartija still remained very much unthought of. That in itself was meant to change quite soon. As much as the Crow preened at the thought of being between two kings, thus most certainly leading both courts to war over the subject of his heart honor, there would be only one patron he would pledge to.

So leaving all flustered farewells to Elysium, the Crow flew north once more, winging his way for the cliffs themselves. Once he chanced upon the behemoth of sequoias, the beginnings of his own herald faltered within his willowy throat, for he saw — at least, he thinks he has through the gloam — his inked-up Bro-in-law. An ivory smirk crescented along his lips, the red of his hurts wreathing in mirth as he instead hailed, ”Vercingetorix!”

Vercingetorix was, in fact, patrolling, and unfortunately in a stormy mood. He lifted his head at the call and grimaced to see Vonnaruil headed his way, looking chipper as ever. He would have greeted him with the same enthusiasm had things not been so absolutely shit-fucking-tastic lately.

As it was, though--

What's up, man? he asked, voice tinged with weariness. He watched carefully to see if the pale man stopped short of the border; a toe too close and his pelt might bristle unintentionally. Like a porcupine, hoppin' mad. You still with the Var-whatever? Or have you finally come to your senses and want to join the kru?

Vonnaruil never thought he’d speak to an enlivened stormcloud, but here they were — a white Crow babbling to a black gale. Heard the rumble, too, and squawked back all the same: ”I’ve been meaning to settle for the sea quite some time, now, and I have made amends, too, with my previous pledge otherwise.”

”Besides,” the look sharpened into something wry, remembering their banter from so long ago, ”I should be where my blood is. Elysium has told me that Aurëwen attended their festivities?” As it was, the pale wanderer was more than prepared to admit whatever the Dragoncrest needed of him.

But, as Verx’s mood helped to mellow the Crow’s own vivacity, he minded where he stood at the border. ”So, I suppose I have come to my senses after all, no? And how are the cliffs?” A tip of a sculpted head, ”Has that Rakk been the cause of such dreariness?”

So you are gonna live here? Verx asked, a little impatiently. He wasn't in the mood to sort through Vonn's flowery language right now. He shook his head at the Rakk question, shoulders lifting in a shrug. Haven't seen him around, or heard anything. (Dreadfully out of the loop, this one.) Hopefully it stayed that way.

He felt a little awkward around Vonn, all things considered. How long would it be until Aure told him about Vercingetorix's outburst? He couldn't imagine the pale man would take too kindly to that news. And while he was fairly sure he could break Vonnaruil like a twig--just because you can, doesn't mean you should, right?

Brow furrowed at the quipped words, but Vonn rolled the leaner of his own shoulders as well. Who knew what’d gone down at the cliffs while he’d been away? ”Yes, yes. I will live here — should Drageda need any more warriors, of course?” Plumed tail wavered behind him, body canting with idleness. ”If the cliffs are in need of a mentor, I suppose I will offer myself in that, as well.” Truth was, Vonn was a master of none; music, mentoring, monitoring... it was almost endless. Almost.

Vercingetorix nodded, his spirits lightening a bit. Regardless of how he felt about Vonn--and he did like the man, all things considered--Drageda needed more able bodies. Things were not at their best since Heda had died; there had been several exoduses from the cliffs following that dreaded day.

We're always looking for warriors, Verx said, finally cracking a smile. Should I call for Blixen or Dio now, or do you still have things to take care of before it's official? He was surprised Vonnaruil was coming here, given he'd seemed so dedicated toward the Var-whatsit.

Then again, Aure was here, and sibling bonds were strong. Wow, fuck, he missed Llyr. He hadn't thought of Llyr in ages.

A shake of the head was followed by his next words, ”We should call for them — one of them, anyways. I managed to settle things with Vartija before making my way here.” And then, with a lift of silver brows, ”If I am to be an uncle, I should be with my blood, no? You have my word...” although the impish curl of his lips remained, ”and my congratulations.”

In the meantime, his gaze drifted to the sequoian horizon before flickering back to Verx. He remembered the red she-wolf, he thinks, although he’d not been introduced to Dio.

I'll bother @Blixen, since the two of you have already met, Verx said with a wry smile, then lifted his nose in a howl (damn right, a HOWL -- oh, I forgot this bug only worked in certain tenses of the word) for the Wormana. Once that errand was taken care of, he returned his gaze to Vonn, feeling much better than he had before. It was good to have another wolf on the team, and a wolf he was already fond of, too.

The last words from the pale warrior's lips had escaped his notice until now, and his smile faded, thinking of Aure. Did she tell you? he asked, thinking of their argument. Well, less an argument and more of him being a big angry man baby. It's a pretty big deal. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it.

Maybe he never would.


(howled?)

He nodded, and waited for the howl and question to end before replying. His brows rose once more, “No, no, she did not. I meant to see what all of this talk of ‘festivities’ in the Elysium was — I missed it, and was mistaken for my sister. Well, from a distance.” A rasp of amusement left him, remembering his first encounter with Verx and Blixen. ”They were the ones who told me she was with bairn; so here I have come.”

There weren’t many children born to Rhaesuial, and this situation called for Vonn’s full presence, as much as he’d taken to the Vartija. As for the doubt that came next in Verx's voice, "You have nothing but time to do that. I've never fathered, I don't believe, but remember that you will have the support of the... Drageda. I'm sure you won't be alone in this, corsair." He was terrible, clumsy when it came to advice, but he tried nonetheless.

He shot Vonn an appreciative look as the other man spoke. Sure, it wasn't the most compelling advice, but Vercingetorix would take it. Thanks, man, he said, smile returning, if a little dimmer than before. I won't be, you're right. It's just a lot to adjust to all at once. He did not mention the fact that he had abandoned every previous potential baby mama before they began to show.

Just some things you didn't tell your brother-by-future-kids.

The two stood quietly for a few moments, still waiting for Blixen's arrival. Verx glanced at Vonnaruil again, curiosity clearly writ over his face. Tell me more about your and Aure's childhood, he said. If it's not too much bad stuff to bring up. I wanna hear your story of it, though.

Not that he thought Aure was lying, not in the least. He just appreciated a different perspective. And so Vonn ran him through the tale, Blixen probably eventually greeted them, and Aure's brother started his very abbreviated stay in Drageda.