Wolf RPG

His foray in to the north appeared to be a bust — no matter which direction the path led, the scent of Fox dwindled in to nothing. He thought he had caught it a few times towards the west, but attempting to cross through that section of unexplored country had left him exhausted and dejected. It was about time that the warden turn around and begin heading towards home, even if the thought of returning empty-handed made his stomach churn and knot.

Moving south would take hours, but Njal was determined - as he always was - to get the job done. The venture away from the creek had given him some time to think and put things in perspective; most of this thinking was done deliberately as a means to avoid contemplating a more dire turn of events. What if Fox never returned? What if she had fled the territory in order to leave the wilds entirely? Or, perhaps she had been taken against her will. Njal worked his way south until the ground became inundated by resting water - a tell-tale sign that the wetlands were somewhere close. He chose to avoid them. Slogging through silt and slime was not his idea of fun (plus if Fox had headed northwest from her den, she would have probably avoided such a catastrophically messy area - lest she was in distress). And again, his thoughts ran rampant.

Njal's course navigated around the wetlands, forging a path beyond that which was known to the wolves of the wild. He ended up teetering too far east, and after a roundabout hike, arrived near the edge of Duck Lake; the familiar sight of the waterhole made his spirits lift, until of course he realized how alone he was. His loyalty to Fox had led to a few days of hiking, and then defeat. With these thoughts settling across his tired body and sinking in to his bones, Njal's pace slowed to a crawl: he lurched along with a forlorn stride, his expression as overcast as the sky above. The only positive thing about being so close to home was the thought of his little family, which he had not seen in days.

He was clearly lacking REM sleep when he returned to Swiftcurrent's borders, but to rest was not what he intended. Jace had filled in the blanks for him exactly as anticipated, and if possible, he was only made further irate by the infuriating little russet leader who did not deserve for one second to hold her title.

Her den was where he went first. The den she'd shared with the captive Cutthroat once, he knew, then some other unknown male Razo had only seen the tail-end of on one occasion. That alone should have been enough for the tawny scoundrel to lose all interest in her, but it hadn't been. It had taken her absolute stupidity faced to the forefront and slopped all over the Wilds for him to consider her too young and incredibly unworthy of his dashing good genes, and even then, for just a moment, he'd thought he might be able to affect her in just the right way, but she was too bullheaded and daft for anything to reach the cerebral matter between her pretty little ears.

His features darkened when he found her den filled in and the area vacant. In part, his expectations were fulfilled to find her scent trailing off towards the west, but the remainder of the situation prickled the careless guardhairs along his nape and scruff. It was all very wrong. It was with this that he set off traipsing throughout the territory to locate someone who had been present enough to know just what had actually happened in his very brief absence.

After some time, Njal's musk was the first to waft in on a breeze, so Razo pursued him at a very deliberate stride, attempting to catch up with the stoic northerner as quickly as he could.

It wouldn’t have struck him the wrong way if Njal only regarded him as a stray. A stray was something close to what he’d been among the wolves who called Swiftcurrent Creek their home, because it seemed awfully like he only came around to be fed. Only closer inspection would reveal his robust scent riddled throughout the territory that signified he rarely left it, right along with the number of caches where his mark was vigilant, threatening and deterring any beast that did not belong to the pack. He was a provider by keeping these brimming, as his promise to Fox entailed, and on quite a few occasions he’d paid the Sveijarn den a visit to bestow gifts in carcass form upon the new family. As well, it so happened that he had deigned to come when called thus far.

It turned out that Njal was looking fairly worse-for-wear himself. Razo gave a guttural woof to allow his presence to be known, then strolled up to the craggy grey male and proceeded to walk with him without waiting for an invite. You're aware that our little leader has vacated the premises? he asked easily.

What were they up to, he would wonder as he walked. How big had they gotten? Did they miss having him around? It had only been a few days of travel, but Njal's heart ached with the knowledge that he was missing out on his children's little lives. Even if their lives consisted of eating, sleeping, and pooping. He wanted to be there for them and for Tuwawi, but instead... Instead, he was chasing after a leader who seemed intent not to be found. The warden kicked at a patch of grass when this thought appeared in his mind, and was dragging his claws through the reeds when a soft woof bellowed nearby. He lifted his attention to seek the source, and spotted Razo.

Already tired and frustrated, Njal's body grew rigid and his fur spiked along his lower back. But as the stranger grew nearer, he thought he detected the scent of Fox which all the creek wolves carried. Was this a clue? Njal sized up the stranger and was thinking of the best way to extract any worthwhile information when suddenly - "You're aware that our little leader has vacated the premises?" -- oh.

He relaxed, but it was clear that some level of vexation still plagued him. His arrival to the packlands without Fox in tow should have been an indicator; but maybe this stranger didn't know he had been searching. Still, Njal wasn't in the grandest of moods and wasn't particularly mindful of letting the other wolf's ignorance slide. "Yes I'm very aware," He stated flatly, perhaps a bit pointed as he responded. "I tracked her as far as I could, but then I lost her heading west. It seemed pointless to continue." Njal was watching the soil where his claws had dug small chasms, but now he turned to look upon the other male. "I assume she hasn't returned."

She hasn’t, he affirmed, and only for the moment his voice was without an edge. He found himself vaguely curious for a fleeting moment as to whether the stoic northerner would actually care to see such a selfish creature back within the borders. It was possible he believed she would stroll in with a few hastily improvised words to explain away her severe missteps, a thought which occurred to him because—by all appearances—it was evident Njal didn’t care who led him. He hadn’t stood up for the very vacant role of Alpha that Fox had instead been allowed, for whatever reason, to step into at the time of Lethe’s apparent suicide, and he’d certainly wasted little time in shrugging the responsibility and role of Beta from his square shoulders after he’d initially accepted the bestowal. Njal struck him plainly as a wolf with approximately zero leadership qualities about him, whose only measures of superiority were demonstrated in the form of his age and longevity with the pack.

Neither of these stood out overly, and as it happened, Razo didn’t have a problem with anyone who was content to follow. What he had a problem with, in fact, was that a middle-aged wolf would exude the attitude of a teenager at a very inappropriate time, and with a pack mate he had never before deigned to acknowledge. They were all a bit ragged at the nerves, and surely he might bother to recognize that if he’d also bothered to think. Njal was not alone in his agitation. The Redefin male glanced at the shredded earth when he paused in step, then fixed his burning yellow eyes on the Sveijarn as he stood at his shoulder.

Anything else you’re very aware of? he asked with a mild dose of emphasis to get his point across. Such as why her den is filled in and bouldered shut while the stench of death hangs in the air? It might have been masked, but it was most definitely discernible, and if Njal could fill in this blank cleanly he might receive a nod of respect from the tawny male. As it was, he only saw a mostly empty shell of a wolf standing there with him, and he contemplated turning tail and looking for someone who had an idea of what had happened while he’d gone to track down other answers that Fox had outright denied him.