Wolf RPG

Zsuzsa finally made her journey to the Sequoia Coast with predawn at her paws. The concept of the ocean captivated her as soon as she learned about it. She did not know what the entity of the ocean was, but it somehow knew her, and couldn’t resist its call. Something about the atmosphere was different here. It was breezy with a mineral scent in the air. Lighter and more fluid like the weightlessness of her gait as she drew closer to what was literally the ends of the Earth. The coast peeled itself back from the dense inland forests to grasses. She only made it to the grasses when her attention was averted by a scent—a singular boundary.
 
Pausing at this border (which was fresh in marking, not of many, but a prominent one), her silver eyes surveyed the land beyond the intangible boundary. It was flat and went forever but instead of endless green… the distance shifted from a tan color to blue. A blue that went on to what seemed like infinity. She never saw a thing like this before and her gaze competed in a mile-long stare with the vastness before her. An active current of breeze came from the distance and it was not like the soft breeze felt in a forest or in the valley of a mountain. It was something unorthodox and raw. A whine reverberated from her throat, lowing her muzzle to quietly sniff the scent once more, considering her possibilities.
 
Zsuzsa traveled for several moons now on her own. No matter how far she physically ran, mentally she was still running. Still disturbed. These haunting sentiments aged her psyche. The beckoning of the indigo horizon before her would bring her back to the present moment. It was as if the oceanic breeze combed its invisible touch through her fur, reassuring her she found a refuge that was neither kind nor cruel but accepting of her regardless of the past. She was stuck in place at this boundary, whether it was by the marked scent or deeply entranced by the horizon before her.

saltbreeze mingling as it did with the sweetmusk of decaying ash leaves was potent and as the breeze almost always roils off of the sea and rarely shifts as it slithers inland, wintersbane only picks her scent up — only knows of the lingering shadewoman upon his border as he draws nearer to that particular stretch. his purpose many days is singular: mark, mark, mark. soon, once it is established enough he feels safe parting from it for hours at a time, he will seek to recruit and track the herds he knows are rutting and sheltering in the young growth of the sentinels. for now, however; his priorities remain within the bay itself.

ironclan may be little more than a territory and a territorial tundrian who lays claim to it; the barebones of an empire and it’s ideal… but it, they, are his — and he approaches the border as any ironking would as if legions stood at his back instead of dying ashtrees and idyllic coast of untarnished whitetan sands and cerulean waters the color of the nordic man’s eyes whom named it.

nevertheless, wintersbane’s approach isn’t hostile. she’s respected the border whether she intended to or not, her gaze seemingly transfixed upon the sea. he lets out a chuff to announce his presence to her, lest his heavy footfalls went unnoticed.

Zsuzsa’s entrancement with the horizon was brief. Black ears flicked forward, finding a resonance emitting from the throat of another wolf directed at her. Her figure stood at more attention as the male approached. He was a plume of silvery-black, with his undertone of blue becoming more apparent with the rising sun. His most captivating feature was his thick silvery mane. Zsuzsa couldn’t recall seeing such a substantial amount of fur coating another’s neck, shoulders, and chest. She deliberated if he was from a region that was harsh either in a colder environment or temperamental weather. Bright, silver eyes watched carefully as he approached closer, noting the intense and piercing glacier blue of his own gaze.
 
”The entity that is the ocean… will I find it that way?” Zsuzsa said with her accent of the Weald crisp in her words and on her tongue, tossing her muzzle in the general direction of the horizon. Having never experienced the ocean before and only hearing lore from individuals she met along the way to the coast, she presumed the ocean was a living creature by the way they described it. Changeable, erratic, unpredictable, zestful, even more so than the roughest coursing river. Her nose twitched, noticing with his oncoming presence, his scent was detected. It matched the singular one at the invisible border. She presumably found the keeper of these parts and aspired to be led to where earth met sea if he so authorized to do so.

In the distance behind her, the Raven had been trailing behind in the sky some. There was reservation with the black avian itself as it stayed several yards behind when typically it was found soaring overhead Zsuzsa. It landed in the grassy knolls, no trees found to perch upon a branch. It fluttered its wings and gave a low caw, surveying the two from a distance.

The entity that is the ocean… will I find it that way?

small cant of his head is given as he regards her, unsure if he'd consider the ocean an 'entity' though if not that, what? it might've well as been as living and breathing as she and him. mhm, wintersbane affirms in a throaty hum, giving a nod of his head. so, it wasn't passage pre say she was seeking but a view of the ocean?

the caw of the raven nearby draws his ears forth, and the polar splice of his gaze before it returns to the woman at his border. it was true there were other, neutral territories along the coast she could traverse to, to see the ocean but she was here and though escorting her to the shore would take time from border mapping and marking ...he tucks that aside.

there might be a chance at recruitment here and he wasn't going to pass it up.

i'll escort you to it. he offers, inviting her into the border with a small gesture of his muzzle.

The smokey plumed male gave a hum of affirmation. He then made a proposition to assist her to the sandy shores. At least she would be accompanied by another upon discovering the vastness of the ocean for the first time. Her imagination may have been working up too much of the fantasy of what the sea entailed but knowing how interchangeable the ocean sounded in its patterns and movement, she was comforted to have someone such as him by her side to experience it. ”That would be appreciated.” Her tail wagged once, gratified by his gesture.
 
Upon his soot-hued complexion, deep scars were etched on the left side of his face. He appeared to be a male who was a mature enough age, who experienced and seen some in his time so far. The Mackenzie would follow his suit once they began their approach to the shoreline. ”Are you what they call a coastal wolf?” Zsuzsa inquired. Fortunate (or perhaps unfortunate) for him, she would be full of such questions today. The only wolves she ever knew were ones who were landlocked to the mountain, the forest, and the plain. There was something even intriguing about him and she intended to satisfy her curiosity with this newfound connection between him and this environment.

wintersbane takes the lead, keeping his long strides slow for the sake of his companion; in a manner that almost felt like he was giving a tour. perhaps that was the case. perhaps it wasn't; regardless, though interlopers couldn't be stopped in these stages of ironclan's infancy, that doesn't mean he could — or would — allow them free reign of his work-in-progress claim.

her question draws a lifting quirk of wintersbane's lips in subtle amusement. it's a fair question, considering. no. wintersbane rasps the truth like an admittance. not yet, at least. he was not seaborn; and in truth the hale tundrian was more mountain wolf than he was coastal wolf. perhaps once i settle this place i'll call myself a coastal wolf.

The Mackenzie already assumed the male held a firm stake in this seaside dominion. To hear he was in the stages of still designating himself made Zsuzsa feel not as solitary in this experience of seeking what was potentially refuge along the coast. She had always been landlocked herself, surrounded by silent soldiers of trees and towering strongholds of mountains that protected wolves from the elements and outside intrusion. There was something about venturing this way that spoke a different manner of opportunity than what she had been used to. Zsuzsa would be pleased to know traveling north would end at a firm stop at this strip of shore, for her paws were weary of traveling.
 
”What is it about here you want to claim?” Steel eyes glanced over to him briefly before sweeping forward, transfixed on the vast body of blue that was coming closer as they approached.  The protection of the trees and mountains were void here (until Zsuzsa would soon discover the sea cliffs once they arrived at the beach) The way he phrased his comment alluded to the fact he wasn’t necessarily from these regions either. Perhaps Zsuzsa’s inquiries would lead to some reflective insight on why this particular land was appealing for a wolf to make a dwelling; this could be a prime opportunity for him to offer a succinct and persuasive pitch on his future aspirations.

her question is a fair one; and one that wintersbane is sure that would be asked of him from those who knew him best ( not that there were too many wolves that knew him best around anymore ). for much of his life, wintersbane’s held a certain level of disdain for the coast ( mostly sand ) and the fact that he seeks claim this bay would be enough to strike anyone as random and unorthodox.

besides the views it offers, you mean? he inquires with a soft smile, drawing in a deep breath of the tangy air. there’s no press of neighbors. the territory itself is easily defendable and well fortified. the sentinels next door offer fertile hunting grounds, wintersbane muzzle gestures in their direction. it offers plenty of shelter from seastorms; and on the off chance one too big was coming in ample territories more inland to temporarily locate to.

he lists off the practical reasons.

i suppose, in a way, something about this territory answers the call of what i seek in those who would follow me. acceptance but with the knowledge that the sea and land will test us at times. strengthening the bonds of the pack and crafting ironwills.

There were several strong points listed, notably how easily defendable the region was. The fact of not having to be constantly unsettled by who was lurking in the near shadows or around the next bend was comforting to the Mackenzie. She would discover she could have her back against the sea without the worry of an ambuscade. Sea storms, however, were an entirely different (and greatly unknown) story. Something of the such would come in time to experience. For a male as himself who wasn’t entirely a coastal wolf yet, he seemed to have a foundational knowledge of this terrain. He then mentioned the call, the same call spoken both without words yet rang so loud to her intuition. Perhaps there were greater forces at work here, an inner cry that had been ignored for much too long.
 
Or… maybe she was listening to it for the first time.
 
Her ears flexed and perked, with an eager interest sweeping over her silver gaze. ”What consists of the Ironwills?” Zsuzsa inquired. She was raised upon the values of testing her own permanence. Adding new techniques to her skill set would prove valuable in the future if in the event some long-forgotten adversaries finally caught up to her. She often used the terrain to her advantage in evading hostile rivals, especially when it came to nimble paw work over treacherous ledges and cliffsides. She was interested to know how he could teach her how to wield the power of Earth and water together.

wintersbane’s ideas for the ironwill trials were still rough; details needing to be hammered out and refined. chances are, even when he had something more solid and he went out to be the first to complete the ironwill trials, he would refine some more. a trial, he clarifies. a task that needs to be completed and a night spent on the small island a swim away from the coast. though, having not been there yet to fully investigate he still isn’t entirely sure it’s not a mirage of the sea.

or something similar. i’m still working out the details. he admits, offer a bit of a sheepish shrug. either way, the sea and these wilds will test us too. especially if the idle bird whispers of trouble brewing were of any indication. that particular test might appear on their doorstep sooner rather than later. those who have the ironwill will earn a place among the clan that will always be theirs. meaning even if they left — providing it wasn’t treason or they didn’t betray the clan ( teaghlaigh vibes ) — they would always have a home among their ironkin.

Zsuzsa listened to the details that consisted of the Ironwill. It was an enthralling concept for a pack to hold, testing the limits of how far one could go with their strength and spirit. The assessment seemed promising, although it sounded as if there were elements to still be worked out.
 
She would spend the rest of her morning with the male, divulging in conversation and surveying the territory he wishes to claim as his. It would come to a point whereupon reaching the shoreline of where the sea met the earth that Zsuzsa would sit and just gaze endlessly out into the blue. Never in her life had she witnessed such a grand entity that was the sea before her. Everything she fantasized about it had been true, down to its temperament and the way it drew in a landlocked soul. Even long after the male wandered off, she would spend her time venturing elsewhere along the coast, almost with a yearling’s spirit to explore curiously.