Wolf RPG

There were none.

Afternoon rays, that was. The morning's fog still gripped the land into the late morning. She dreaded it deeply, unable to see as far into their claim as she wished.

The last few days had ticked her into a protective edge. Subtle shifts in her body that only she knew to be the tell-tale sign of an impending season. Something she dared to say she felt too old for, despite only being mid-life. Regardless she ignored it all in favor of working on the bay further.

With grunts and huffs, she tried to work against the cold land to get a head start on what would be a garden in the heart of spring.

with the bay growing with recruits, kjalarr does not think it will be too long until they have enough bodies to become official. even so, he keeps going through the motions: patrols, recruiting, following the herds in the sentinels closely. spring would be dawning soon and with it milder weather.

his return from a patrol has him crossing tove's path and on an impulse, the northman's course diverts to follow her's.

he comes across her soon, a quick sweep of cerulean gaze giving him the impression that she was tending to the thawing soil.

a soft chuff leaves his lips, so as to not startle her to his presence — if the sound of his footfalls had not already given him away.

Footfalls these deep into the bay did not always outright spook here these days. She was aware that the bay had grown beyond just herself and Kjalarr — for the best, too.

So it would be his familiar summons that had her head turning from cold soil to look at him. Her tail offered a slow, low sweep of welcoming.

How did you trip treat you, Kjalarr?

it could've gone better, he remarks with a soft snort; remembering the altercation by both the pair that held the vale and their ally. i would avoid the northstar vale. there is a pair there seeking to build and they are very territorial. it almost draws another snort from him: for if he got that worked up every time someone trespassed in the bay despite clear wolf presence he'd have had a heart attack by now.

a lofty shrug is given.

anything happen of note while i was away? he inquires.

Where he did not snort again, she would. Features flared with annoyed humor.

A territorial pair, wonderful. Not that the bay was much better, but Kjalarr did not stand so strong as to make others avoid the bay. They greeted visitors, spoke to them, went from there.

Not much. Part of me prefers it that way, if I must be honest. Toes and claws dug a bit slower, mindful of the frozen ground. This is your vision, you would handle situations as you see best. I'm a good advisor, not enforcer.

She laughed softly, offering him a kind look with her lilac gaze.

they are young, kjalarr drawls with a low snort. i was the same way, once. worse, probably. if age had given him one thing, it was patience. an understanding he had definitely not harbored as a hot blooded youngster. he could be that rutheless again, surely, but he also understood he did not have youth to back him up. he would not heal as quickly, now. he was not as fast as he'd once been. injuries, depending on severity might put him down for a while.

that is good, kjalarr speaks, contented to know there was no trouble in his brief absence. i do not think i'll take such a long trip again. at least, not while we are still unestablished. his place was here, after all.

as far as handling situations went, i take them as they come and decide best how to handle them as the circumstance calls for. it was easier that way, he found.

Perhaps you ought to find a...scout, on your behalf. Or a second warrior to take with you when you do travel. Especially if we have anymore bullheaded neighbors.

Tove was only good for patching up the aftermath of scuffles and battles, her experience within them was very little. Perhaps something to reflect upon, to fix.

Maybe you would give me proper lessons on how to handle less than kind situations, sometime.

she makes a good suggestion, an insight that he had not thought of: finding a scout. that is a good idea, kjalarr murmurs. i am, perhaps, too old to be doing the traveling i did in my youth. he wasn't in denial about his age, but it was still a bit of a struggle to come to terms with the fact that he could not necessarily shoulder everything all on his own.

i'd be happy to. kjalarr replies to her suggestion. admittedly, this method has come with age and learned diplomacy. i was not so eager to talk it out in my youth. but that was more or less tell-tale with the scars he bore.

She smiled warmly, it was good to be comfortable in time and age. It was wise to have somebody experienced at the helm of things who was not so strong willed as to be unable to admit when they should send someone else in their steed.

You don't say so? She teases in kind as her eyes wrinkled with warmth. Were you a warrior proper or just a rouge boy, Kjalarr?

her tease brings a small curl of his lips — and a low snort. if we're talking about how i thought of myself: a warrior proper, a flick of his ear and a roguish grin tugs at the corner of his scarred lips. if we're speaking truth: i was a rogue boy with no regard. perhaps, not something anyone desired of someone who sought the crown of king: but he'd already admitted he came a long way. age and battles lost had drilled humility into the hellbound youth that had been kjalarr: whether he'd liked it or not.