Wolf RPG - to the fall

For Ku and her @Mordecai ! Also, weird post is weird. xD

It was the urge to explore the vast Wilds further that had pulled Sinaaq from the darkened depths of the Blackfoot Forest and had him heading further south. He enjoyed it in all of it's ghastly glory, unafraid of the lore that had surrounded the forest like a opaque veil. And since his meals had consisted of little else but fox during his stay there, he had downed the population a bit — though he doubted that he had put much of a dent in it. Their eerie cries still had rang through the night, shrill and banshee-like, becoming a lullaby even as the sound caused the hairs at his nape to prickle. The place had fit the darkling though, a nightmare living in a nightmare forest and his reluctance to depart it — as if he feared someone would be brazen enough to claim it in his absence — had been great but there was much more for him to see and many decisions that he had yet to make. Could he so easily make them without investigating what all the Wilds had to offer him? No. He was not so rash.
Thus, Sinaaq had set out traveling for many days and nights, resting in the afternoons, using the cover of night to cloak him though the nights proved to be cooler than the days but he was hardly bothered. Without the infection to slow him down he was able to make great travel time and yet the wretched found himself wanting for his nephew's company. It was a complicated relationship of fierce love and abhorrent hatred. He had never forgiven Adlartok for leeching away Frigga's life as she gave birth to him, stealing it from her moments after the infectious child had drawn his first breath, stealing her last — making him an infection to Sinaaq who had taken the only creature he had ever loved from him, his sister that had saved him from living a dull life in worldly blindness as the sperm and egg donors had. Sinaaq hated his nephew for that, but loved him also because he was all that Sinaaq had left of Frigga. It was only after three failed attempts at ending the newborn's life did Sinaaq realize that what he hated was also, infinitely precious to him. This conflict was true even now, he missed Aldartok but he didn't. Always an impossible conflict.
Sinaaq had risen earlier than the sun, decided upon switching up his sleeping schedule a bit to find the tree line he had taken shelter under concealed by thick fog. Even when the sun had risen the fog did not dissipate and Sinaaq had no choice but to brave it, muzzle tipped towards the earth to take in the scents around him so that he did not accidentally find himself trespassing. Drawn by the sound of water he drew nearer to the bank of the lake, unable to see it's size in the fog that writhed as if it were living around the territories, but lowered his muzzle towards it to lap at the cool water, nevertheless.

Pfft, have you seen my writing? I define weird. <3

He lingered about the lake once again, slightly weary from his long track of following nearby herds. They were too far out to be of any use of Ouroboros, but the coming and going at length gave him time to figure out where they were going, and where they had come from. It was like a big event that some of them had missed out on getting a memo for; the herds and other fairweather game were migrating. Or at least that was how it seemed to the autumn-draped hunter, who was slowly beginning to recede into his element.

Around the lake though, there was plenty of natural cover. The watery depths and marshy grounds gave the air a certain tinge, something almost palpable. It was enough to dampen his senses, but only slightly. The fog was of course, a bigger problem to contend with. He moved through it easily, but not silently. The reeds and tall grasses of the lake did little to hide his steps, but Mordecai wasn't interested in being quiet. He had encountered someone here the last time he had come, and anticipated that this time would be no different either.

He just wanted a drink too.

Pft, no you don't. <3

It was frigid upon his tongue as he lapped at it slowly, resisting the urge to lap like an it with an eagerness that he knew would potentially make him sick. He was a disaster without Solia, admittedly, but he had survived life before her and he would survive life after her. After all, that was what he did. He survived. He survived against the egg and sperm donor's wishes, he had survived his fight to the death with Glimmer, and he would keep surviving. Sinaaq didn't know how to do anything else. Of course before Solia he had been stolen his nephew from Glimmer and had taken it upon himself to raise him, despite that Sinaaq had still been but a child, himself. The wretched had, had someone to take care of, even though the teenager had made his loathing of the infectious child known. Still, the child had loved him, and despite it all, Sinaaq had loved him, too. Without anything to take care of him but himself, which he did only because he was a horribly vain creature and to be anything less than aesthetically pleasing was unacceptable to him, he was left to the grasping and clutching claws of his own loneliness. In some respects, Sinaaq enjoyed it, but he desired affection even if it was cruel — after all cruel affection was all he had known from Frigga and it was all that he had, accordingly, shown Aldartok. Sometimes, he would forget that he was alone and he would hiss at Adlartok to reprimand when he heard a loud noise only to worry about his cracked sanity seconds later when it sunk in, once more, that Adlartok was ...gone. Not dead, the Arrluk thought, but lost. Somehow the smoke color child had gotten lost from him — not for the first time, admittedly, and Sinaaq had made no real effort to go looking for him. It was how they, as Arrluk's, operated.

The sound of heavy footfalls against the earth caused the darkling's ears to perk, alert, head rising from the water, droplets running off of his chin in rivulets. Salmon pink tongue snaked out to catch them as they fell, wondering with a shot of hopefulness that Sinaaq instinctively snuffed out, that Adlartok had found him after all. He knew it wasn't possible for the footfalls were too heavy for the young boy to have pulled off. For a moment, Sinaaq considered ignoring the approach of another, content to wallow in his own despair and loneliness. After all, his sardonic disposition was rarely taken in any sort of good light. Regardless, he let out a chuff to let the other know that he was in the vicinity, unsure of how close the other was, or even, whether, the fog would carry the sound or simply swallow it.

You know I must have looked at my postlog no less than fifteen times since this morning and totally didn't realize you had replied to this. *blind*

As he lowered his muzzle towards the watery depths for that drink, he received the cue that he was not alone this time either. Instead of answering, he waited until he had his fill of drink. This time around, the waters had gone much colder than they had been. The day or two of heat that had surged back to the wilderness had long departed. Just as well, he supposed, because even the grasses had begun to draw on their own coats; the colors were much more muted this time. Autumn had finally come.

Pulling himself back from the water, Mordecai finally returned the chuff that he heard, though from where he wasn't sure. His response was inviting enough though, so he hoped that he wouldn't find himself alone for too much longer. For the departure of the heat, there had been an insurgence of wolves to the areas that he had been through. Some where apart of fast forming packs far and wide, of this he was aware out of instinct, but some merely lurking on their own. Whether or not he was about to encounter someone of either taste was just as unknown as the creature they could have been.

He took his chances either way.

A responsive chuff did not come immediately. Not in the direction of the now ceased footfalls, nor in any other direction which left the wretched with a shiver down his spine and the consideration his mind had imagined them. Sinaaq was quick to shoot down the consideration that, perhaps, his sanity wasn't as pristine as he would have liked to boast of, if only because the sounds had been rather distinctive and he did not give his imagination the credit of being able to make something sound so real. The darkling shuffled the dirt beneath his paws as he waited, weighing his options. He could seek out the promise of brief company, if he was going off of the assertion that he had not imagined the sound of footfalls, or if he would spurn it as he did most days and continue on in his bubble of seclusion. The decision was made for him when an answering chuff finally broke through the veil of fog that obscured the landscape thickly. Playing strangers wasn't necessarily something Sinaaq would be quick to say that he was good at but there was a part of him — presumably the canine instincts — that desired companionship; desired socialization even if it was brief, which most of Sinaaq's interactions with others tended to be though this was mostly of the wretched's own design.

Eyes of fierce, liquid gold remained trained on the massing shapes as he, slowly as to not end up, literally, running into his enigmatic and currently well hidden companion, began to make his way in the direction the answering chuff had originated from. As slowly as Sinaaq moved, a shape began to become more distinct, giving the other man the impression that he was melting from the fog as first a silhouette was cast and then, the closer that Sinaaq drew, more distinctive features became apparent. “Hallo,” The German word pushed itself from betwixt the tall, albeit willowy Arrluk's lips, close enough to it's English counterpart that even if the other man didn't understand German it wasn't too hard to tell what had been said to him as a greeting.

A shadowy figure came to materialize through the reedy haze. They had been closer than Mordecai had anticipated, and if not for the arrival of the other in his peripheral, he may not have even noticed him quickly. Testing the air curiously, Mordecai could not really ascertain much about the wolf that now approached him; most of the cues he could get were obvious ones, and visual. Perhaps most interesting of those things was the way he was greeted; the dialect was unfamiliar to Mordecai, but understandable.

“Hello,” he returned with a slight cant of his head. “Come here much?” If the dark-haired canine before him had been of a feminine persuasion, it would have sounded more like a cheesy pick up than anything. But the curiosity was genuine, as Mordecai did not visit the lake on a regular basis. His last venture there had been means to a get away, and the same could have been said about the present as well.

Sinaaq's enigmatic companion returned the greeting in the common tongue and the wretched was able to determine that the Germanic tongue would not be understood and made the mental switch glad that he was, if nothing else, bilingual. The question that left his companion's lips caused a small little wicked smirk to tug at the edges of the darkling's lips as he glimpsed around them, the landscape still heavily veiled by the dense fog that surrounded them, wondering if the sun would shine and if it did if it would begin to burn through the veil that created the ultimate sense of disorientation in it's wake. It was a strange question, Sinaaq mused, and idly wondered while he made Mordecai wait for his response, if it mattered if Sinaaq did go there often, or not. “No,” The darkling eventually responded. Simple, with an according nonchalant shrug of willowy shoulders. Blackfoot Forest had became something of a favored haunt of Sinaaq's, though it was likely because the Arrluk thought that it fit the feeling of his own being. “I prefer the Northern territories more.” In truth it was really only one specific territory but Sinaaq had this weird urge to covet Blackfoot Forest for himself, despite that he understood that he was hardly the first wolf to ever stumble upon it, nor would he be the last.

Even so, he didn't necessarily want anyone to claim it as potential pack lands while he was absent from it, despite that he had no real intentions of claiming it himself. He was not overly confident that he had what it took to become a leader of any sort. Charismatic, only when he wanted to be. He could barely take care of Aldartok let alone any number of wolves. That, however, did not mean that he was going to willingly dwell anywhere else, unless, of course, he found some place better. “I am Sinaaq.” It felt odd to introduce himself but by this point in his life Sinaaq was quite used to interacting socially with other wolves. If his time in Wintersun had taught him anything useful it was that socialization was key and how you executed could make all of the difference.

When it came to the lay of the land, Mordecai had really never ventured too far out into the wilds. In truth, his time in the broad swath of wilderness had not been as fruitful in exploration as he had hoped it to be. Since the day he had decided to take a venture and join Jinx, he had found himself sticking close to the pack rather than wandering too far away. But the desire to meander still remained, however blanketed and mute he had forced it to be. Perhaps it was a late mark of maturity to put the priorities of others before himself, but Mordecai really had not put a lot of thought into the reason of why. Nor did he consider that exceptions often became the rule, as he had made the exception to settle for an undetermined amount of time and in turn, found himself rewarded with tenure and rank.

But out there, none of that really mattered. “Sinaaq? That's an interesting name. It's from a northern tongue, right?” He found himself caught off guard as the darkly-coated male introduced himself. It struck him like a bolt from the blue, as a memory if nothing else. Not of this fellow, no, but the very name itself rang closely to the tongue his mother had spoken in from time to time. “I'm sorry, I can be nosy. I'm Mordecai,” he offered, with an apologetic yet dismissive shake of his head. While he wasn't one to pry about the whereabouts of anyone, the nicety of it went out the window went it came to his curiosity.

For a little while more, the two chatted before going on their separate ways.