He shook his pelt. A turning of the face of the moon, the cusp of the seasons, and then Dovev would be observing a full year in Teekon Wilds. This far south, the leaves had yet to change and fall to the earth, the grass still retaining its youthful green tint. It brushed his belly as the specimen lifted his frame, leaving an imprint in the emerald carpet. It's healthy verbena was fed by the stream rushing past, it's raspy call making the trees branches sway in the air. A soft fog had rolled in on the cool morning, settling drops of dew on bent blades. The water had seeped into Dovev's hairs, and he was apt to start moving about and air out his coat.
A wolf has an unforeseen path-finding tool, something that allows them to make the most efficient movements while keeping their graceful demeanor. The arctic creature had nothing but a sure footing as he traipsed rocky ledges that the creek tumbled and spilt over, casting up trails of mist through the light fog. Soon the sun would split the mountains in half with powerful summer rays that would burn the fog off, but for now the valleys had created pockets of humid, cold air that clung to his bone-hued jacket like sticky resin. His lightly parted lips created a small basin for the vapor to settle, and his gray eyes were twinkling with the ticklish fingers of the fog stroking his tongue.
Even if his large frame was built for the rocky terrain that, for most of the year, was cut off from the rest of the world by snow, the summer months stripped Dovev of his down. It wouldn't be long before the fur regrew, but for now, his legs, joints, ribcage, and chest were clearly defined as there was no protective padding of hair to shield his ligaments. The considerable amount of weight Dovev had shed since arriving in last year's early fall reflected from the round planes about his eyes to the limp swing of his tail behind his haunches. His inner cool flame still flickered behind his pools, the desire for more, not such unlike the glinting of sun in midday was enough to keep him moving. He knew the border was close by the way his nose became more and more assuaged with the scents, and it was just another test.
Would the border hold?
He now stood on that unspoken line, the broad plane of his holding nothing royal, but something more akin to the stoic ice floating in dark seas. There would be no call. There will be the test of his will and the other's own, his own little game that he found to be most beguiling. How long would he wait until he could step into this guarded realm and have a little fun?
Fresh blood. Thank you. Bazi the staunch atheist said a silent prayer to the darkened heavens, and followed her nose in the direction indicated by a helpful gust. She owed much to the wind; they were fewer new, and it was harder to keep the borders adequately patrolled.
Like she had done, Dovev waited silently at the borders. He was a rangy creature, made thin by time alone - or so Bazi presumed. Like her, he came from the north, which set the pale Alpha's tail to wagging as she approached him, blue eyes scrutinizing the male's broad body for marks. He seemed to be in good health.
"You're like me," she stated bluntly - meaning from the north. "How long did you travel to get here?" Bazi had been carried, literally, by conservationists she had scarcely caught a glimpse of during her long rehabilitation.
As soon as the ivory figure distended herself from the fog and walked across the damp earth, Dovev's audits swung forward and his tail lifted slightly, the furs along its base bristling down his spine. The creature's gray irises narrowed slightly as the stranger approached, smaller and with a more rounded muzzle, indicating her heritage of the north. He wasn't surprised when she pointed out the distinction between their appearances, her tail wagging with vague, puppyish joy. You're like me.
Perhaps on the outside, anyways.
He kept his stance as his own eyes scrutinized what seemed to be the alphess of the wide floodplains surrounding the creek. She was inquisitive enough, and Dovev inferred not much of their subspecies was running around in this territory. He had spent all one and a half years of his adolescence traveling northwards with his estranged father to rejoin their kin that was spread along the northern oceanfront. After striking out on his own, Dovev had traveled back south through vast areas of heavily wooded hills.
I once ruled a pack east of here. Before that, yes, I lived in the north, he responded in an fluent tone, his skull slightly tilted. The titan wondered how the fae herself had ended up here- she was still quite young, and if she had greeted Dovev alone, then she was probably isolated from her family. His tail lowered slightly, but the canid's face was still focused on her's. I'm Dovev.
"I once ruled a pack east of here. Before that, yes, I lived in the north. I'm Dovev."
He lowered his tail, but kept his eyes on her face. It struck Bazi that this was not the behaviour of someone come begging at the borders, and her inquisitive gaze hardened somewhat. "Bazi," she returned. "And I rule this one."
He was older than her by quite some way - three, maybe four years. Wolves of the north aged well, being already white when everyone else started to go grey around the muzzle. For a moment, she wondered if the fact that he had occupied the top rank should concern her - but no. This was Swiftcurrent Creek, not some dissolved pack in the east, and she was queen here. "Have you got a message for someone here?" the pale girl asked pointedly, tail swishing rhythmically behind her.
With a slight release of his breath, he hid a smile. Dovev's pale chips of eyes left her face and drifted past her shoulder to the wide expanse of ankle-length grass, and farther down, the silver band of the creek. The fog had lessened and the air was warming, a slight breeze carrying the sun's meager heat towards his pelt. His ears turned away as Bazi asserted her title, and at least there was no waver of confidence in her tone. He wasn't expecting any other physical retribution- he may have had a slightly haughty demeanor, but wasn't pushing any of the boundaries. Dovev responded with a lowering of his head.
No. I've come to join your ranks.
"No. I've come to join your ranks."
It was accompanied by a subtle lowering of the head. Bazi must have approved, because she responded with a nod and a compliment. "I'll be glad to have another northerner in the ranks when winter comes. Although winters aren't exactly harsh here..." She smiled wryly, and with a toss of her delicate head got down to the business of joining. "Do you have any particular strength? We're low on healers, but recently acquired a 'naturalist'.. which I'd never heard of. We can always use wolves that can fight and defend, of course."
The tone of the conversation slowly relaxed, and he was pleased to hear of her ready acceptance into the pack. His eyes crinkled slightly at the mention of winter, the most expression his face had shown through the duration of the morning. Just wait till someone gets stuck in the snow. His black lips, stark contrast to his fine white muzzle, contracted with the words, memory laden pools visualizing a rather hopeless creature floundering in the powdery white sea...
The titan's face flickered as he returned to the moment. Do you have any particular strength? We're low on healers, but recently acquired a 'naturalist'.. which I'd never heard of.
He pondered this. Not that he looked much for a 'doctor' type, it had caused a recurrence. His lips pursed in a thin line, knowing very well of who in his family who was a healer. Dovev stepped back, his right ear twitching. No. I am your typical warrior.
A high, tinkling laugh escaped from Bazi, taking the the air like a frosty breeze. "Arctics to the rescue." She had yet to spend a true winter in the Teekon Wilds, and wondered what it would be like. Were there wolves in her pack that were ill-prepared for the season? ..would Paarthurnax be OK? She looked as though she were suited to the exact opposite of winter.
"I always need dedicated warriors," the girl declared, and with that, Dovev's place in the pack was assured. "Welcome to Swiftcurrent. Let me give you the official tour.."
The border seemed to abstractly swell and take Dovev into its fold, and the wolf shifted forward, his muzzle reaching down to brush the grass with his nostrils. Pleased with the conversation, he glanced back up at Bazi, whose cerulean lamps were briefly clouded with preoccupation. The mention of winter had drawn Dovev's own experience from the previous winter in Teekon. He had spent most of it along Porcupine Ridge, and had only met several wolves in passing during the long stretch of moons that were encased in ice and snow. The wolf population had been a lot smaller, and only in the spring had it begun to rebound after the harsh chill. He stepped to her side, his feet now firmly planted in his new pack land. Dovev glanced at her, a small smirk brimming on his lips. For his entire life, winter may be kind to his species, but it had thinned the ranks of his enemies that had lain in warmer climes.
Thank you.
"Thank you."
Bazi smiled blithely at him and indicated toward the center of the Creek's territory with her muzzle.
"I'll show you the hills first. We call them the Sleeping Guardians - you can shelter from the wind and rain up there, and it gives a great view of what everyone's up to, if you're into spying. Come on," she told him, turning to face the heart of their home.
"Let's go."