Wolf RPG

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going to be vaguey-vague about the rivenwood vs. legion thing, heh.

with the snows appearing to have abated — or if not abated then there was at least a lull — praimfaya peers at the cloudy day from the inside of her den, lined with soft moss and soft rabbit furs she had laid out to dry. it was the most attention she's ever paid to a den's interior; unaware that her instincts were subconsciously driving the interior decorator within praimfaya to nest... or at least make one. a safe, warm cocoon of protection burrowed beneath the earth.

by her calculations, her first heat would be upon her soon; in two or three months time; and she was no closer to finding a husband prospect than she'd been from the moment she'd brought to mahler's attention her desire to have cubs this year.

while her newly decorated den is cozy and warm from the chill that settles into her bones as she heads towards rivenwood's borders to patrol; she needs the stretch of her legs. the scrimmage with legion has made her restless... though for what she couldn't be sure.
When it was finally safe for the wolves to leave their hideaway it was not Kigipigak who would lead them; he had made frequent trips outside of their catacombs in favor of the open air and freedom, loathe to be caught underground where he felt the claustrophobic pressure of every nook and cranny.

Kigipigak wants to know more about the boulder wolves; he watched as they brought themselves against the likes of Legion, followed them back to their underground hold and worked to keep them fed, safe, and aware of potential retaliation. But he does not know them well — having spent little time making any effort.

Some ways away from the bifurcated boulder and the trailing entry-point to the darkness the wolves lurked within, Kigipigak noticed animal trails in the snow. One led away and through the woods to a different hollow, which he anticipated was another access point for the tunnels; he lingers for a few moments and finally drifts closer, finding a warm feminine scent — as well as Mahler's mark — but the trail leads away.

As he follows it the path leads towards the edge of the claim. Kigipigak pauses to gather his bearings a few times along the way and is surprised when he turns his head and catches sight of someone moving through the trees, huffing softly in greeting. Without the blizzard to hide or silence him the sound carries, louder than intended.
in a few week(s) time she would be packing up the den she's nested into and moving it to the bypass — with some grumbling, kept as minimal as she is physically capable of doing. for now, she is pleased with her handi-work despite having never taken much of an interest in snoozing quarters before. usually, she had a habit of sleeping where ever was available and often among the stars. being in any sort of enclosure made her nervous — a subconscious reaction to seeing her mother crushed by a boulder, no doubt.

a huff draws her attention, carrying over the distance between them; unfamiliar. she pauses in her steps and turns to peer over her kill-marked shoulder, frostbound gaze searching. easily, the man blends into the snow blanketing their home ( though so too does she if not for the stark markings beneath her eyes ). she recognizes him but vaguely. he'd been at the scrimmage though beyond that brief acknowledgement praimfaya had otherwise been occupied. several others had ended up accompanying their original trio and in the midst of battle formalities were forgone.

hei, she greets an amiable wag of her tail given; inviting him to come closer. you were at the battle with legion? an idle statement more than a question. i'm praimfaya. she introduces.
Yes, he confirmed and gave a little tip of his chin, a nod to affirm beyond his words. The woman introduced herself and he shared in return, Kigipigak. As he said this he came up alongside her; his pale shoulder-furs barely moving for all the snow piled across them.

I came late to the skirmish. It was a lesson for me, watching how Mahler composed himself, how he directed his people. The win was swift and that too surprised me. I had met the leader of the bypass before - perhaps this was not the right thing to admit but he did so anyway, seeing no error in it, and I thought she was formidable. He was lucky to find her absent.

But that begged other questions - where had she gone? What of her children who desired to roam? And what would be the fallout once the woman realized her people had been cast out? Kigipigak was not a tactician and so these thoughts were quick.

Eager to carry the conversation, Kigipigak asks: Where did you train? In my experience of these southlands the people here are... Not as formidable as what I am used to. You are an exception.
he confirms her recollection and offers her a name. kigipigak. it is a strange sounding name that speaks of a place different than the wilds ...not entirely unlike her own. mahler is capable, a compliment when falling from praimfaya's lips. despite that she and him have not always seen eye to eye on matters ...she respects him and it is clear in her simple assessment of mahler's abilities. she cannot say she would ever go to war on her own over land unless it came down to her pack starving or running out of resources but nevertheless, the scrimmage sated the worst of her battlelust. still, she does not allow herself to rest, to let her guard drop because the saints are still out there and her mission is not yet complete but her priorities have shifted that to the back burner for the time being.

there were more time sensitive things to think about and prioritize.

perhaps, or perhaps the outcome would've been the same either way. a leader who left her pack without a leader to defend it? in praimfaya's mind wasn't a leader at all; but she does not speak this aloud. i was born here, in these wilds, praimfaya admits. but it was my mother that trained me to fight. my people are warriors and she, she was my people's wanlida; the bringer of death. a fond smile tugs at the edges of praimfaya's lips as she thinks of her mother, despite that she can no longer call to her mind the details of her mother's face, nor the sound of her voice.
Praimfaya sounded assured in their success, one way or another, and Kigipigak did not know if that was her own ego coming in to view or some form of trust and loyalty to Mahler; it was not so different from how Kigipigak had felt for Stjornuati and the Stormskyli wolves. He thought of them suddenly, fondly, and as their faces flashed through his mind he thought of Valmua and quickly shuttered himself against further contemplation.

The woman spoke of her history in brief. A warrior mother — this wanlida, a word he had never heard before — although the way Praimfaya spoke of the woman and the meaning behind everything, Kigipigak could find similarities there too. She was what my people would call issumatar; a strong woman in control of her own fate. There is a twitch to the woman's face, as if she is trying to stop the veneer masking her expression from melting.

We have much in common. My mother was issumatar to my home tribe, which themselves were warriors. Tell me - have you any great exploits? A good story warms the spirit. In truth, Kigipigak wants to expound his own legend, see if he can impress this woman with his own history. Perhaps she has stories to share of her own, though.
he capitalizes upon their similarities — that they were both born of warrior mothers — ( which leads her to believe that he, too, is a warrior ) and while praimfaya does not understand the word he speaks in form of a rank she is able to piece together with his words that it is similar ...but not quite the same. they are similar, but what i think would be your issumatar would be my heda. the commander. and that rank belonged to praimfaya herself — even if she wasn't in the eyes of ( majority ) in these wilds. there were a few of her kru scattered throughout but they were not many.

at least, not yet.

it was part of her fierce desire to have cubs; that and instincts which grew stronger with each passing week.

i have many, praimfaya responds with a wily smile tugging at the edges of her lips; daring and flirtatious. i could speak of my sadgeda ...the fight to the death against four others for the title of commander — where i earned these killmarks, she shows the shoulder that bears her oldest wounds. how i had a near death fight with a woman in the ravenswood and i earned the scars upon my right shoulder, muzzle, eye and throat, praimfaya hums. or how i went undercover as a spy within the ranks of my enemies? ...which are still at large but i haven't forgotten about.
The many aspects of her life remain lost to him, but she brings up some which sound intriguing, and her stories are more plentiful than his own. Kigipigak feels suddenly emasculated; but it is a brief sensation that does not linger long enough to have any detrimental effect. He feels pride rival his own curiosities. To know someone with such prowess on the battlefield - to call them family, even if it was derived from a mutual desire to survive rather than blood - pleases Kigipigak.

Kigipigak looks over her many scars and grins with each new discovery, reading the roadmap of her flesh. He tilts his face to show off his oldest, curving up his lip to his cheekbone. I have seen some battles too. Mine were nothing in comparison. You are impressive. He feels a twinge in his neck suddenly and shakes to relieve it, his tattered eartip flopping about.

In the calm that descends after, he explains his greatest accomplishment.

In my family's custom the weak among our people must be purged. We welcome elders, of course. They keep our history. But when their minds begin to go and at times they become violent in their disfunction, they are removed. It is an unkind action to take upon those losing their minds to the delusion of age, but it must be done to keep their resources free for those young, virile, and strong. I was ordered once to cull one such beast from our number - my sisters were to help, but when the time came I was alone.

There have been other battles, but none so harrowing as the competition between myself and this man. At his age he was slowed but he still held years of experience over my head. Kigipigak draws a breath and holds it a moment, puffing himself up by happenstance, and when he exhales, deflating, he lets the subject go stale.

You sound as if you have been traveling a while, he comments after a beat.
praimfaya preens beneath the praise; for if there was a surefire way to her good graces ( and perhaps even her heart ) it was the praising of her battle prowess... and yet, she finds herself thinking; no, hoping that someday soon she would have something more to offer the world. she was her mother's daughter, yes, but she was also the commander and she hoped to keep her family tree growing. she was all there was, after all. the last of ingram and blodreina, with no littermates and no past nor future siblings to extended the branches. she had a duty to her blood, too.

as he tilts his face, praimfaya studies the curving scar on his lip, tracing it with her frostbound gaze as it trailed into his cheekbone. scars are sexy. praimfaya speaks her opinion unabashedly, not shy about what she finds attractive; and of course she would find scars attractive. the world was and always would be survival of the fittest, the strongest. pacifying and peacekeeping was important and she's done her fairshare of it; ending family feuds and making allies all across the map ...but there would always be war.

praimfaya is quiet as he speaks of pruning the weak — the feeble minded —, contemplative. in her mind, this makes perfect sense. those who were losing their minds and becoming violent were a threat to the pack, to themselves. killing them was kinder than tossing them out to the wilds where the world would be utterly cruel. it makes sense. especially from praimfaya's standpoint within her own people. the commander had to be sound of mind and if they weren't ...they had to be killed so the next commander could take their place. if an elder's mind starts to go they become a threat not only to themselves but to the pack. killing them is kinder than tossing them to the cruel wilds. she gives voice to her earlier thoughts.

i have, praimfaya replies to his observation. it is time i put down roots. because in truth, she's been running her whole life. ever since blodreina died for her, protecting her. i spoke to mahler about my desire to have cubs this year, since it'll be the first time i'll be able. the subconscious nesting was already the first indication that biological things were being set in motion ( even if praimfaya doesn't know it yet ). she worries her lip for a moment, wondering if she should mention the condition mahler set or not. in the end, she decides to hold off on it; studying kigipigak's reaction with mild curiosity.
To everyone else Kigipigak had boasted about his exploits, the trial of the kill order he had been given, and found comfort in knowing he had done what his sisters could not.

He had only recently begun to doubt the past as he knew it; so in sharing this time he made sure to change the story enough to make it sound perilous for him, rather than letting his own pride characterize the story in its usual way. Kigipigak thought that maybe the woman would appreciate things more this way. Those that he had told reacted poorly in knowing he had culled his own father and so he had left that part out this time.

To Kigipigak's surprise the change was well met. Praimfaya found the course of action sensible and that acceptance of the tale, plus the similarities in temperment to his mother, emboldened and enamored him towards the warrior woman.

Yes, that is it exactly! He remarks with a nod, a brief grin. The expression falters upon his face when Priamfaya moves on, shifting the topic from past mistakes to future endeavors effortlessly. She speaks of putting down roots; for the first time Kigipigak finds it easy to agree with her, and thinks of what Mahler has said to him also.

Kigipigak does not know what to say in response for a moment. He does not want to mention what Mahler has said, but it is topical, and he tries to play it all off as humorous instead; a hearty chuckle rolls from his chest. He must be much older than he looks! Playing matchmaker. He said as much to me when we met. Offered me a home for the winter and a place to start my own legacy if I wanted. No indication was given if Kigipigak was supportive of that or not, yet.

I would think an older man like himself would have a woman of his own, but perhaps fate was not so kind to him.
praimfaya is pleasantly surprised to find that they are of the same mind and thinks that he would do well in her culture. there are enough similarities from what little she's been told by him that she does not think they are so different. at least, not mechanically. or morally. there is excitement fluttering in her throat and she considers mentioning jus drein, jus daun, flowing with the suspicion that he would understand 'blood must have blood' but doesn't. at least, not yet. he is a warrior and they have common ground ...surely this would not be her only meeting with him. at the very least praimfaya didn't want it to be her last meeting with him.

maybe, praimfaya allows on the topic of mahler's age. she didn't know for sure because she'd never asked. it's not a topic we've ever discussed.

for a moment praimfaya feels a stab of jealousy like a knife lodging between her ribs as kigipigak mentions that mahler offered him to start his own legacy. how was that fair? that kigipigak gets offered breeding permissions but praimfaya had to ask and on top of that was expected to adhere to the condition of mateship. she blinks frostbound gaze slowly, and supposes that it's her punishment for her challenge all those months ago.

but since they were speaking about it ... mahler told me that i had to take a mate if i wanted cubs.
He anticipates some jesting to follow, but it does not. Praimfaya takes his commentary and dismisses it swiftly without hearing the humor in it and Kigipigak lets it go easily enough. He is used to the bantering of a tribe of people, or at least the snide jabs of Valmua, and has yet to fully shed the final vestiges of his prior connections.

Kigipigak does take notice of an expression that slips across Praimfaya's face, one he cannot make sense of. It will take him time to learn of her behaviors and how to read her, if that should ever happen. Her comment —a caveat placed upon her by the sounds of it— does not elicit much of a reaction from the man.

That is the way of things, Kigipigak states, shrugging.

Among my people it is the issumatar that makes such decisions, being the strongest among us. She may take a mate for the season or for her entire life, at her discretion. The strongest of the men produce the strongest children to inherit what she has built.

Kigipigak wondered what the issue could be. Besides, he said the same to me. That I might take a wife. Do you disagree?
admittedly, knowing that the same condition has been placed upon kigipigak makes her feel better and chases away any vestiges of jealousy away. she considers his words, having never thought of it that way. it wasn't necessarily the way of her people ...the geda's were only as strong as their commander, after all. bloodlines had nothing to do with it; and yet she considers: what if they did? i never thought of it that way. praimfaya admits after a moment longer of consideration.

initially, i never intended to take a mate. she admits in the next breath; for reasons that she does not care to divulge in right now but mostly because she held onto the fear that if she did they, too, would be gone from her too soon. it was a repeating history with her and her wariness is expected from her standpoint.

but i see the sense in it. besides, trying to find a new sire each year also sounded tiring. it make sense to pick someone who is strong, who'll stick around. who i know. ...and as time goes on, i find that i'm not opposed to taking a mate.
They were far more similar than Kigipigak had initially realized. She voiced concerns that he held himself; being told to take a wife, or a husband, to put down roots — he still wasn't sure if that was what he wanted. It was what his mother would require of him by now, what his people would expect. As always, Kigipigak did as he was told.

I am not sure where I stand on the subject, Kigipigak admitted. I am a man, not a boy. I do not know when that change happened, but it did. I know that much. And men, they serve a purpose. Mine was once to follow my mother; then I thought it was to find my own way, and I ended up with brothers that left me behind.

He did not pine for the past, that was not what he was doing now. More, thinking aloud. Kigipigak did not know if this was the place he was meant to be — it was different from where he had come from, in some aspects considerably so. And now I am here. I suppose there are worse places to be, and worse company.

His gaze flicked across Praimfaya with some mirth at that.