he followed
@Prophet back from the fields, and once they had parted he set about the borders to ensure his scent was integrated. though the oakshield had alerted his packmates of typhon's arrival, he would not want to be chased out by anyone who hadn't been close enough to hear their berserkr's call.
it was emtpy, mindless work, but it gave him peace. with sagging shoulders he marched on, hoping he might see a new face along the way.
a new man, much of their kind here. big, thick and gray—like a boulder, quiet and impenetrable.
did this one speak? Prophet had given him entry; Avicus had heard the call and noted it for later, not stirring from the malaise that had settled upon her after learning of Merrick's death.
now, though, she is moving again, and she spots the patroller from afar. she barks once to get his attention, then lopes carefully down the slopes of the Rise, slowing only when she's a few paces from him and falling into a trot at his side.
I am Avi—your Wealda,
she says briefly, wondering if Prophet had properly informed the newcomer of their ranks. you are?
she calls to him from afar and he slows until she is at his side. hail,
he greets her.
she speaks to him of things he does not know. he feels resistance pull at his already frayed edges. he chooses not to acknowledge it. he is fresh blood, he expects to be beneath her.
typhon,
he says, your blod.
he stopped to rub himself along the rough bark of a tree and allowed a sigh as it pulled out a tuft of undercoat that was ready to be shed.
he is more than welcome here—strong and capable. she watches him itch, and pads a short distance away, squatting to urinate against a small scrub brush along the fringes of their territory.
does it. . .smell different? her nostrils flare.
more pungent, perhaps. . .
she leaves off thinking too much, knowing she will send herself into a spiral if she tries to connect such mundane matters to the very pertinent question of her pregnancy.
where you come from?
Avicus asks, once she's risen and shaken stray droplets from her haunches.
once she had risen, he continued along the border, and it was during her next inquirty that he noticed the ragged edge of her tongue. he kept the realization to himself. it didn't define her, the way his scars didn't define him.
a gorge, far away from here.
he shrugged, it no longer exists.
some might think it was a shame, and in some ways it was. he thought of a green-eyed girl who had stolen his heart, and pushed her from his mind as quickly as she had emerged.
what about you?
it no longer exists.
how could it be so? maybe fire; she thinks of the blackened hollow, but even so. . .the Rise had come back. perhaps it's a lie, or he's unable to face his past.
she understands that completely.
a valley,
Avicus answers briefly, continuing to stalk along the border. long ago. now here.
that's all that needed to be said.
she glances toward him, ears swiveling forward in query. you hunhh', or fighh'?
he's Blod for now, but he'll earn his place in time.
he offers a nod towards her history. she seemed to be as willing to talk about hers as he was about his, and he left any questions that arose in the past where they belonged.
both,
he says to her query, i was a soldier, though i don't fight so much these days. hunting is what earned me my place here. prophet found me in your plains. we hunted together.
she's pleased to know he has the ability to hunt and fight, when needed. any good wolf should. the lines between the two are fairly arbitrary, though Avicus feels it's good to separate out the two. keep the warriors on the front lines, and the hunters fit enough to chase game. . .
we are happy'uh have you,
she slurs, giving him a solemn nod. she hopes this can be the start of another great relationship, like the ones she'd forged with Augur, and this wolf's mentor, Prophet. and Tulimaq, too, of course.
they patrol together for a while before splitting off, each on their own errand.