Wolf RPG

The crow had yet to reach the summit, but his stride was steady, and his howl for the Count held much purpose. Although seasons ago, Vonn still knew how his sister had once wished to found something of her own; she’d been irrevocably stubborn in that it’d be the only sect she’d ever favor leading.

And as he was here to pay Evergreen with the payment of his life for saving her own... it seemed the least the crow could do was croak suggestions in his sister’s stead — should she ever have figments of founding, and should he ever see her again.

So on and on Vonnaruil went, through this place that teemed with herds and silver trees. This plateau wasn’t that afar from where Kaistleoki lay... which only furthered his intentful gait.

As far as appearances went, it was apparently without flaw; and though the Count’s riverlands had their own sort of charm, nothing would compare to mountains; to the burn in your thighs when climbing; to the feeling of euphoric elation when you did reach the summit.

The summons surprising to Evergreen, yet far from unwelcome. Instead, he feels a giddiness consume him—a leader, someone others could truly rely on.

That is how he hopes this instance is, but just in case, the bearish wolf is quick to join the white crow. Last he wishes to see is Vonn, too, injured in some way underneath his watch. Although he is certain everyone can take care of themselves, it does not cease his worry.

Slipping from Kaistleoki’s grasps into the neighboring Plateau, Evergreen follows Vonn’s trail, until he finds the man marching up. He joins him, already feeling the burn in his lungs and limbs as he goes. “Hey,” he greets, ears twitching. “What’s up?”

“‘Allo,” came the breezy reply, and the lull that followed was filled with stuttering pants — well, not from the sort of exertion the crow found more favorable, anyways. He came to a halt on a little rise, “Un momento,” he wheezed, well-meaning and jovial despite the way he tried to gobble up the air. With a huff, he sat back onto his haunches, raven’s ruff quivering. 

“So— so I was wondering,” the rogue huffed, “this devilish Plateau, it— it is rather quaint, no?” Yeah, right. “You see, my sweet sister Aurëwen, she’s— the only pack she’d truly love to lead would be one of her own, you know? Being pionier and all, well— not that she knows what I plan,” gave a shake of his head, a dry laugh, “which is to say, my plan is... my plan is to...”

Dios mio. His pale ribs shivered for air, and Vonnaruil rightly scowled at the rise before them that they’d still yet need to conquer. “My plan is to claim a land for her so that— that, should she ever come down from that silly Lake— she— she will already be halfway there to a founding.” Tongue laved at pallid chops, “Since I and her, ah, suitor have left her, now, I wanted to ask if you would like to become allies on this matter?” 

“It is a lot to ask, of course,” he quipped, still a bit winded, “but it is the least I can do for her. My sister... she was always meant to lead; not Diaspora, or any other pack, you know? Who knows, though? It might make quite the surprise, should she ever come to the Kintlas.” He’d no idea of how she’d bring her children down, though. Unless, an escort, of some sort...

Ah how he sympathizes. After all, Evergreen is big not just in height. His stomach plump in a way many might question his laziness. Alas, the bear is very much a workaholic. His appetite just knows no bounds and his body clings to whatever weight it can. Mirroring the crow's movements, Evergreen reclines and sits upon his haunches. His mouth open and taking in breaths hungrily.

Head tilts, however, in curiosity. Quaint? Perhaps. He is uncertain how he would describe the Plateau. It isn't much of his style, despite growing used to traversing mountains in order to get to and fro.

Breathe, the bear says slowly, eyebrows furrowing in concern. The Count is content to wait and the last thing he needs is Vonn passing out on him. Not that he would mind carrying him back to Kaistleoki.

Ira breezes up to them. The roan Constable looking unaffected by the climb and Evergreen arches an eyebrow before his attention returns to the crow. It takes him by surprise, and yet he understands the feeling so much. After all, Kaistleoki was found by the bear with good intentions in mind. He knows Aurë would not be a threat to them. Ira, on the other hand, has a point, too.

Miss Aurë is a good person, he starts with, She would not be a threat to Kaistleoki, and it would be excellent to have an ally so close. But I do think Constable Ira is right. I'd like to know more of your plans, and what kind of pack you both wish to create.

“Well, seeing as I’d have to reign in her absence,” he mused in answer to Evergreen’s query, “the pack that we — she, moreso — wish to found is one where fair thought is supreme. I’d like to think that’s what Diaspora was, but they ...never seemed to look kindly upon alliances, neighboring territories. My sister and I were not born into such an unsparing pack; treaties were honored, rather than detested, not simply because ours was a haven, or that we tended to all walks of life. She would encourage a lack of prejudice in her wolves, where each would have a bold say that’d be truly accounted for.”

His argent gaze drifted up the rise, mind likewise on Ira’s words, now. “She waits for her beloved to return to their children. To her. I am sure she wishes nothing more than follow my prints to Kaisteloki, to here ...but only time may tell, unfortunately. So, until she is ever able to pass through the Kintlas, I may as well advocate her idea in her place. Plus ...this plateau is charming terrain that favors defense.” Vonn offered a thin smile, twitching with some sheepish nerves as he turned to the pair. 

“As you may have guessed, I am quite the lover — not so much a leader, I’m afraid. But who else to watch the plateau, should another come to claim it for themselves?” He didn’t know that Vercingetorix had most certainly seen to the family by now, or his promise of the sea. He didn’t know how soon his sister would come to rule a part of Diaspora, and how much it would leave an ill taste on her tongue in the moon to come. “I am merely a ...conducter of her old wishes. Until she comes here, if she comes here, and if I can ever gather some semblance of a little following ...she might look favorably to it. Out of us two, she takes more kindly to the mountains.”