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forward-dated to the 7th @Wintersbane

sunrise over the ice-kissed taiga, and the early morning glister highlights a wandering spectre; silver, sunlight flashing off lustrous wintry fur. sharp, purposeful, muscles rippling over marble-sculpted build. a predator's gait, slinking and full of malevolent intent.

he does not know why he is here, or how. he does not remember the fall, nor his rebirth.

he knows only his name, his purpose, that burning need to start anew. zephyr; icewraith, glister witch of the wilds. calloused pads hover over icy ground, hesitant. the wraith halts, finally. it has been a long journey — but finally, he feels at home. the familiarity of this place is not lost on him, but whatever past of his lingers here is of no interest to the glister witch. this is his future. this is his rebirth.
the permafrost hollows are not apart of his claim, and yet wintersbane loops in a patrol every few days just to establish the hollows as the glacier's hunting grounds. it provides ample opportunity of prey and he idly tracks the movements of the herd(s) that call it home out of necessity. there would likely be pups come early summer and he wanted to be sure there weren't groups — or loners, he supposes — chasing them off; even though there was little he could do in truth aside from warn off stragglers.

it is a straggler that his glacial gaze falls upon now; a wanderer as pale as the ice of the glacier wintersbane had crossed to arrive here. cautiously, the tundrian lets out a low chuff to announce his presence.
It was mere happenstance that she came across the impromptu meeting of the fever-pelted angajukKâk and the stranger crafted of silver mists -- somewhat perplexing to the shaman. Even from a distance, the moonlit he-wolf moved like a man. But it was his scent, cloaking and musky but not entirely masculine that confused the she-dog's sensitive nose as she approached. 

Selkie had only meant to patrol the borders that morning, as Wintersbane had tasked her with doing before their formation, but the game trail of an injured muskrat had led her towards the Hollows of ice. But the odor had been lost to the mud and she had been distracted by the smell of the Glacier Alpha, the whisper of his greeting echoing through the woods and drawing forth the speckled Gamma.

There was something cold, tundral even, in the bone-white male that had wandered near which inspired the shepherd to take up a place near Wintersbane's star-speckled haunch and offer a soft noise of greeting herself. Tuliped auds of buttermilk rose towards the unfamiliar man, seaglass gaze curious and alert. 
the wraith's attention locks to the intrusion well before the pair announces their presence, wary in the way of all lone wanderers and alert to the finest of details. ears twitch at the sound of footsteps, head cants, sidelong glance cast toward the mismatched duo. caution in the bearing of the first, herculean and stygian-cloaked; curiosity in the second, feathery and fawn-coated. the wintry witch returns with his own chuff, turns, posture neutral as his stony expression. he recognizes a shared scent between them, the marker of a pack, and quickly reaches a conclusion. if your home is nearby, you don't need to worry about my presence. i have no intentions of intruding, a slight pause, glacial gaze flickering over the pair. i came here to see what has become of my former home. he hadn't known that until he'd said it, but it feels right; it feels like the truth.
though imaq's presence at his side shortly after he came across the loner was surprising, wintersbane keeps it well hidden in the presence of a stranger. he hadn't realized he was being tailed by her and though concern is the next fleeting emotion — was there something she needed from him specifically? something wrong? — he brushes that away too. at least until a better time.

though the words the glacial colored stranger speak do not harbor any ill intentions — in fact that specify that no trespassing is intended — it does not entirely soothe the tundrian. he has long since learned not to take words alone; that actions always spoke louder and truer. was this hollow your home? comes the feverkissed tundrian's rasping inquiry, wondering if the stranger's destination is here or nearby.
Imaq remained silent, thinking it best to let the tundrian do the talking. The thought of stumbling clumsily over these southerners' tongue before a stranger is an unsavory one, which was the main reason the piebald kept quiet as the men spoke. Some measure of it was due to her upbringing as well, the matter one belonging to males in the shaman's eyes.

Still, her seaglass gaze moved from the pallid he-wolf to Wintersbane and back again as the duo conversed, waiting guardedly to see if she was needed. The man didn't seem particularly threatening but he was awfully close to the Glacier, a fact that kept Selkie on edge in spite of the winterwhite's reassurances.
he does not miss the hesitation that seems to plague the pair, but it does not trouble him. there is little he can do to reassure them beyond what he has offered, at least until they've seen proof of his intentions. instead he turns his attention to the words that follow, the question presented. yes, he turns his gaze briefly round the hollow, then back to the man. i'd once hoped to claim the ridge beyond, as well; the frostfire. a slight pause. what of your claim?
yes, the stranger intones and, as if following zephyr's line of path, wintersbane does a sweep of what he can immediately see of the hollow with his glacial gaze; taking note. he does not recall when this place once held a pack but he believes it well enough. packs rose and fell like the ocean's tide; it was the nature of things. at the information shared that the stranger once hoped to claim the ridge — neighbor of the glacier, wintersbane lifts his chin imperiously. it's a small gesture but present nonetheless. he cannot say, with cubs on the way, that he likes the idea of competing with another pack for resources — despite that once felt fairly prevalent in the stranger's words.

we hold duskfire glacier. wintersbane offers; simply.
skipping imaq with permission <3
the small gesture goes ignored, but not unnoticed; zephyr has no interest in playing the game of dominance with this man. especially given the words that follow, and the flicker of life they inspire within the wraith. i would like to hear more of your pack, if i may, he starts, polite and level, continuing smoothly into his own specific interests. of your goals, your leaders — whether you might have need of another warrior or scout in your ranks. returning to the taiga has renewed my love of the land, i admit, but i have no interest in staking my own claim. a slight pause, barely a breath; less than a second. my name is zephyr; perhaps, if our goals align, i could pledge myself to strengthening yours instead.
while wintersbane is long past the recruitment stages of duskfire glacier he understands the ...hesitance. the desire to learn about a pack before joining rather than potentially walking into a rude surprise. i am it's alpha, wintersbane begins. and my second command is a woman named iana. for now, there were two. two because he does not see the immediate need to add more leaders while the pack is still small. that would change with time and promotions might become a more pressing concern for the tundrian but for now he feels that it is no more than he and iana can handle.

we could always use another warrior or scout, he does not add that they have cubs on the way and that his own time as a master warrior will be torn away from his trade and towards his children as they come into the world. not yet. not when there was no promise of ...anything. we're a 'standard' pack. no pack centric religion, no extra rules. a refuge for those seeking one. contribute and you can rise up the ranks easily, if that sorta thing appeals to you. he was tired of specifics when it came to packs; having lived many facets of his life in packs where religion and quests were held in high regard; and wintersbane had long since believing in deities.
he nods, unsurprised by the man's admission of leadership; it makes sense, after all, based on their interaction so far. the wraith feels a little more at ease to have met the helm of the pack already, assessing him as level and perhaps worthy of loyalty. perhaps. a refuge, he repeats, tone favorable to the concept. i had hoped to create something similar, when i claimed the hollow. i would be glad to join you in your endeavor, if you'll have me. i can't claim any ambitions for a high rank; my desire now is to put down roots, settle into a home — but i'll take on any responsibilities the pack requires of me.
the words that the other — zephyr, he introduces himself as — spoke process in the tundrian's mind and he gives a sage nod; contemplative. to know that the other had intended to find something similar is good, he thinks. there is an alignment to be had. duskfire glacier would be glad to have you, especially with young on the way and the strain they would no doubt put upon their resources, especially when their mothers went to their dens to birth. it would take the entire pack to raise them and while they ensured the future of the glacier wintersbane understands the work they will take ...at least until they were old enough to begin learning and helping.

i am wintersbane, the tundrian introduces himself at last. and this is imaq. he gestures towards the piebald at his side. come, i will give you the tour. with this he invites zephyr to follow.

wrapped up with this post. i'll go ahead & archive. <3