Wolf RPG

She wouldn't be back to the Sunspire anytime soon having been thoroughly chased away by one of the pack wolves devoted enough to fulfill their duty of patrolling the borders. In the end, that had been her fault entirely, but even that knowledge did not console Kipling's frustration. After all, most didn't willingly accept punishment, unless they were a rare noble breed of wolf. She certainly wasn't noble, but she could count herself as lucky.

Despite the annoying sting the wound brought, Kipling was aware it could have been a lot worse. She managed to get out with just a light crunch in her hock, which irritated her when walking but otherwise functioned well enough that she could put her weight down with ease. Had that not been the case, she wasn't too sure she would've made it down and out of Sunspire's slopes at all.

Now she found herself on the edge of a different slope, and though the scent of other wolves were abundant she doubted this place had any claim. As she saw it, it was way too close to Swiftcurrent (which she could see from this height) to house any group of wolves without causing severe tension. Little did she know that been the same issue plaguing Sunspire. Being oblivious had it's advantages though, such as spending her time and thoughts on other things.

Like watching the sunrise over the Wilds.

Viggo, having parted ways with Ptarmigan with plans to meet up later, began trekking his way up some tall mountain. It was not one he had explored yet, and he wondered if Ptarmigan had been on this particular peak. He still wasn't entirely sure what they were looking for (if anything), but he was willing to keep trying. Perhaps they would find something and claim it for themselves. Maybe they would simply settle for an existing pack and infiltrate it until they were at the top. Or they could just linger at the bottom of the totem pole, making their life as followers.

That was all presuming that she and he stuck together, which he wasn't even entirely sure on. There had to be plenty of cute ladies out here, right? All looking for some hunky and handsome dude to whisk them off their feet and provide for them. That's what all lady wolves wanted... at least in Viggo's head. And, speak of ladies...

The Ostrega spotted the figure atop a ledge, and without hesitation, he walked confidently to her with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face. “Whatchin’ the sun rise?” he asked. It was a reasonable assumption, considering she was facing east and letting her eyes drift over the landscape.

Nope. Was her swift reply, her gaze quickly turning to land on the rogue male. I'm watching you now. Kipling added a moment after, her eyes widening expectantly. Not that she assumed he was about to spout his name, occupation and home address, they could've been climbing the same mountain and figuring how he didn't go about spooking her off she assumed her theory from before was correct. They were both probably just enjoying the sights, but it was fun turn the heat on the unheralded all the same.

With a brief glance they seemed alike, except where her eyes were cool his were warm almost molten in their hue. But his expression was inviting, and though better instinct told her to perhaps scoot away, she merely tilted her chin in invitation. The sunrise and sights were hers to share, confident that she'd gotten the best spot for viewing on the mountain.

Viggo chuckled at her remark. Indeed you are, he thought. And he would gladly allow her the honor of doing so for as long as she pleased. When she didn't move away, and instead invited him to sit beside her. He obliged without hesitation, settling down beside her so that he was just far enough away not to be touching her. “I think too many of us forget how magnificent it can be,” he said, letting his gaze fall over the landscape like a wave of water on the shore. “Get wrapped up in our own quests.” Viggo knew he was guilty of that.

“What is your quest, Miss…?” he trailed off, giving her a chance to say her name if she wished to bless him with it. The Ostrega wasn't concerned how detailed she was on her quest, or even if she made something up entirely. He was merely fishing for conversation, as he often did.

Kipling. She answered, hoping he'd drop the 'Miss' part, it was much too formal for the girl's liking. At this point her gaze had drifted back to the scenery, grateful that there was something to look at so she could avoid eye-contact while digesting his question. I guess you can say I don't have one. Knowing her maw must have wrinkled as she shrugged, That's probably why I have so much time to admire sights like these. And at that she laughed, releasing the pinch of embarrassment she felt.

He probably thinks I'm some hobo scavenger, she thought to herself unable to shake off her obsession of what other creature's might judge her as, though her thoughts at this points weren't far from the truth. The anxiety of his opinion pressed on her, and she watched him for his reaction from the corner of her vision. The male seemed so suave and self-assured and she sought to mimic his demeanor.

Viggo let out a quiet chuckle at Kipling's response to his query. “So you’re a clever one,” he observed, amused by this notion. Viggo thought himself suave, even if he would never admit such a thing out loud. He had been following Ptarmigan because she was goofy and laughed at his jokes. If some other girl had caught his eye first, he would have gladly followed her instead. For now, though, Viggo was content to flirt with whatever ladies he pleased. He and Ptarmigan were by no means betrothed, and while he would not turn away further advances from her, he also did not push her hard or come on too strong to her.

In fact, he acted just the same as he was with Kipling right now. “Well, Kip—if I may call you that—do you intend to settle down in this neck of the woods?” That part of Viggo's life was up to Ptarmigan. He planned to let her do the thinking and the exploring while he sat back and had his way with whatever lady would allow him to.

The compliment was welcomed and Kipling flushed with new-found confidence in such a way she hadn't noticed that he did not offer his name in the same way. Nor did she mind the nickname. Attentive then her ears turned at the question, and instead of answering she responded with, Why? Are you going to boot me out and claim this spot? She was of course joking, the implied jest clear in her tone, but if he happened to say as much she wouldn't be too surprised. If most wolves had a directive, then it was often to conquer and rule.

Despite neglecting his inquiry, she did consider it briefly. But out of all the mountains she couldn't think of living on this one, it appeared to be bruised from nature's lashing and still healing; while it still gave terrific views, with the lack of abundant resources, living here would be hard. Naturally she'd divert from any hardship if she could help it.

After a beat she decided to add, I haven't traveled west much, so I can't say that side of the Wilds really appeals to me. Maybe I will... eventually. I'll have to settle down before then anyways. Maybe down there. And she nudged her nose towards Swiftcurrent, Or the mountain pack down south. As if those were her only options for the time being.

Viggo chuckled at that one. She really was a clever one. And pretty, too. Then again, those things could also be said of Ptarmigan. “Not at all,” he replied, assuring her that he had no plans to make this his home. Unless, of course, Ptarmigan decided she wanted to be here... but he did not voice these concerns. The last thing Viggo wished to do was push this lovely girl away by mentioning another one. He knew how... possessive they could be when they had their eye on the prize. (He was the prize, of course.)

When she responded with a more serious explanation, Viggo looked to where she pointed with her muzzle. He hadn't come close to either packs that she mentioned, nor had he really been exploring as much as Ptarmigan. It was her show, and Viggo did not wish to steal it. “I cannot say where I will end up,” he said, looking over the expanse of the lands below them, “but I can’t imagine it will be too bad.” Considering nothing terrible had happened to the Ostrega so far, his "along for the ride" mentality was working out for him.

It was wise on Viggo's part not to mention the other woman, while Kipling might've not been immediately jealous she would have been very offended. As if anyone were in the same league as her. But the peace between them was saved by obliviousness, simply delighted to be in the company of someone's who shared their charm and wit in such a way Kipling found herself quickly enraptured in the male's fellowship.

There's not much fun in planning too far ahead. Sharing his same perspective on the subject. She often found that if she sat and worked over the worries she had about the future it all became too much, and it was anxiety she'd rather not have. Being alone for the first time in her life, these questions often flew back in Kipling's face, insisting that they mustn't be ignored, and though she'd eventually have to confront them for now she lived in the moment.

But I think it's very irresponsible of you if you don't have your meal-plan figured out three weeks in advance, if you haven't figured out what you're doing with your career-path or what you'll name your seventh child. That's just being sloppy. Chiding him and yet trying to fight back the curl of her lips as she tried to pull it off with all the earnest she could muster. Which wasn't much.

To her quip, he smiled he let out a soft snicker. “Well, we can’t all be planning divas,” he replied with a wink. “I don’t think I’d make a very good diva in any circumstance.” Viggo was far from it, although he entertained himself with the thought of being high-maintenance. He very well could have been, but it was not in his nature to be so. His line had their own traits, and much of that included being loyal to those he trusted. So far, only Ptarmigan had fallen into that category, but he could easily see himself falling under the same spell for Kipling.

Viggo could feel the conversation tapering off, and yet he did nothing to stop the inevitable. Instead, he simply sat in comfortable silence, allowing her to continue their banter if she wished, or remain silent if that was her pleasure. Viggo, of course, would not mind either way. He was a calm, patient, and able wolf, but he also knew where his strengths lay. Level-headed was oft used to describe him, even though he had spent much of his youth chasing after a ghost.

Laughter falling from her lips she shook her head at thought of such a roguish looking fellow being at all prissy. The amusement stayed as her gaze returned at first down to her feet then back out, though she stole glances at him from the corner of her eye. It was then that Kipling fell into the silence that settled between them finding herself oddly at ease with it. She was always so eager to run her mouth and it was strange to find she didn’t feel the need to continue talking and talking until the nonsense filled up whatever she felt she was lacking.

It was some time before she felt the need to speak again, and when she did it came out as a soft murmur, “You’re good company… whoever you are.” Not even pressed to find out his name, but somehow finding that the words were significant enough that she felt he needed to know. Content with leaving it at that, she shifted suddenly to press her cheek against his shoulder though her eyes never rose to look up at him.

Viggo returned her physical gesture with a single lick to her head. It was, at the most basic level, an instinctual and affectionate gesture. But depending on how one read into things, it could be much, much more. Viggo certainly had no qualms with flirting left and right, and he would take those who wanted to be taken, but nothing more. His loyalty was with Ptarmigan to the very end, but their relationship had not taken on a solid state just yet. Not that his brief encounter with Kipling would transform into anything more than cuddling while the sun rose.

“Viggo Ostrega,” he replied after his tongue had slid back into his mouth. Then, he let their conversation fall silent as they spent the rest of the morning soaking up the sunshine and the in-the-moment contentedness. After a time, Viggo departed, but not without hesitation, and not without taking in Kip's lovely form one more time.