Wolf RPG

it is the want for a small excursion away from the coast that draws rhaegal out of his slumber and towards the heartlands that early morning. rhaegal's steps slow his golden gaze raises to take in the steep, ridged peak draped in soft, sugary silver moonbeams.

it doesn't exactly look overly inviting to him and his ears flutter back as he examines it from the safety of the distance; contemplative.

jus' a wee peak. he murmurs to himself under his breath as he moves towards the evergreens that line it's base; though 'wee' was a bit of an understatement. though not enough to form what he would call a mountain it still towered above like the tooth of some felled titan all the same.

frost adds a crunch to the bracken that covers the earthen floor as rhaegal begins his exploration; taking away the element of cautious stealth he'd been trying to adopt.

After so much stress, Chacal needed a day to roam, and stretch her legs. She'd eyed the mountain that grew in the misty distance from her home for some time now, and finally decided that she would take a trip out, and see what Dragoncrest looked like from a higher altitude. She was familiar with the route- it was as though she was heading to the Glacier, to visit an old friend...But stopping to climb the mountain along the way. 

She slipped away during the night, travelling toward the mountain and beginning her ascent just as morning began to threaten on the Eastern horizon. Nothing more than a faint, hazy glow of light for now, but she could see just as well with the moonlight. The air was cool, and thin, even in the forested part of the base. She could smell cedar and evergreen; it was refreshing, after breathing in salty sea air for so long. She gave herself a moment to pause, breathe it in, and enjoy it. 

And in the moment of silence she took, she heard the crunching of footsteps on the cold earth. Spent leaves and dried ferns made little room for discretion. She ducked behind a tree and glanced past it, revealing as little of herself as possible as she sought out the other figure in the darkness, and could barely make out his outline. He was dark, especially in the shadows. But she thought she saw a fairness in his expression that proclaimed no demons.

She padded out from behind the tree she'd used as shelter, and uttered a soft, little laugh. "Be you climbin' for de sunrise?" She lilted. "'Tis quite a view, for any eyes."

a small laugh; as melodic as the words that pass from betwixt the stranger's lips catch rhaegal's ear. it twitches atop his skull as his steps pause and he turns to face her as she moves from her place among the shadows of the evergreens.

the seadragon drawls in a breath, pushing past the crisp scents of the pines to take in her scent: the scent of salty seabrine most notable to him. probably, rhaegal should've been immune to it having lived upon an island and following the coast all the way here in the steps of several generations of sveijarns and cortens before him.

but he was not.

he'd know it anywhere.

a deep, thoughtful noise rumbles in his chest; like the brewing of a far away storm.

ah dinnae ken, he replies, offering a lofty shrug of broad shoulders. `m nae much of a climber.

There was a pleasant tone to his voice, and a glint to his eyes. Appraising him now, Chacal guessed him to be on the brink of maturity; likely the same age as Sobo, Mireille and Loko. He struck her as being an earthy man, though there was something windswept about his fur that made him look as though he'd travelled in blustery maritime winds before. He's handsome, easily. 

He took his time to speak, thoughtful. Chacal was amused by his answer, but also by his accent. She stole a glance to the tail that flicked, and noticed the patch of red on it. It could have been a coincidence that she'd found someone who sounded like Njord, and who also bore some semblance of his tail marking- but she decided to keep her awareness a secret. She would get to know him better, likely, if she acted as though she didn't know him at all. 

"Den we climb toget'er, if you'd like.
I know a way up, an easy hike." She said invitingly, stepping a bit closer. 

There certainly was a charm about him. She wanted to hear him speak more, to see how his emotions made his eyes gleam.

upon closer examination, rhaegal takes note of her pelage, not quite so distracted by the sing-song quality of her voice, as if she were a siren given landlegs. she is draped in shadows and marked with gold, lending to his seedling belief that she might be a siren.

though he senses nothing malicious of her.

it is a long moment before he realizes he's staring and diverts his eyes; back to the frost dusted pines and then further to the snow capped peak looming before them.

he is reminded again of a titan's tooth and attempt to suppress a soft shudder. he was not a mountaineer, much preferring being a sealander and remaining sea-level.

she speaks again, blessing his ears with her unique melodic way of speaking. aye — he rumbles. ...together then. he gestures with a sweep of his muzzle for her to take the lead.

Chacal felt warm beneath his gaze, which lingered appreciatively. It brought a mild smile to her lips when he looked away. He had some self control, then, and wasn't a shameless flirt, which was a relief. That sort of attention had never appealed to Chacal anyway. He gestured for her to take the lead, so she moved forward, with the grace and assuredness of a queen. 

She could sense a bit of hesitation. 
"I t'ink it might be a surprise to you, 
but sea legs be good for climbing too," 

She said, casting a glance over her shoulder to catch his reaction. 

"'Tis true, our claws be dulled by sand, 
but our feet are stronger, for bein' on shiftin' land." 

She explained, knowing she was speaking to one of her own kind without him ever having to tell her. She wondered if he had assumed the same about her.

though rhaegal is confident enough on boulders worn smooth by sand and thrashing seawater, slick with seagrime and bird feces, the jagged rock path of the peak they approach at what feels like an alarming rate to the seadragon, looks unconquerable. how far up did they intend to go? how did one move their body so the wind did not push against them? was it steady or precarious in the way of slippery searocks?

his gaze flickers back to her, lingering for a moment longer as she speaks before diverting to their path.

ack, i dinnae, lass... he drawls uncertainly; ears slicking back and tail flicking against his haunches. to think! a brave seafarer afraid of a snow capped peak. it might've been comical to an outsider but to rhaegal it is a chilling, seizing sort of thing; his only comfort taken from the fact that she — a stranger — was leading the way. the sand be more welcomin'.

then again, rhaegal was horribly biased.

`suppose i should be given' ya me name. `m called rhaegal. rhaegal sveijarn, at yer service. a slight change to the name he'd been given at birth but atlantis corten-sveijarn, after spending so much time with the wolves of meares island and all their sea names and variations of corten and corten-sveijarn , sounded much the same as anyone else's. 'rhaegal' gave him something that felt uniquely his, borrowed from his mother's native tongue.

Lass. There it was again- the same tone of voice and accent that she was quite familiar with. He seemed to despair a bit about their quest, so she paused and searched his face to see if his reluctance was true enough that they should give up on the adventure altogether. He had doubts, but he didn't look overtly afraid, to Chacal, and discomfort wasn't reason enough to miss out on the view they'd get if they climbed even part of the way up the mountain, toward a ledge where she knew she could see out to the ocean from. In the right light...She knew it would be worth it. But they couldn't dawdle. 

"It be more welcomin', 'tis true,
I've spent my whole life by de ocean too.
But I assure you again, and will insist;
de view we will 'ave, can not be missed." She said. 

If he was just a bit more brave, he would appreciate it, she was sure. A wolf could not be bound to one climate for their whole life, and she felt it would do him good to be a bit more adventurous, and push himself out of his comfort zones. The grade began to get more steep, and there were boulders to meander around, but no treacherous leaps on the path she intended to take. 

When he introduced himself, one ear flicked back. Sveijarn. He was, indeed, a relative of Njord's, then. The resemblance was there, but she wasn't sure if this could be a son or perhaps a nephew or cousin or something. While Chacal held no real grudge against Njord, she was acutely aware of the pain he'd caused. For now, she'd pretend to know nothing of the man, and judge what she supposed was his family member with a blank slate. 

If she didn't like him, it'd be easy enough to get rid of him, at least.

She hopped up onto a shelf of rock, and waited for him to join her there. 

"Rhaegal Sveijarn. It is nice to meet you.
I be Chacal, your 'umble mountain guide."

rhaegal holds his breath for a moment as the incline begins and evergreen woodland gives way to rocky slope. he drops back in full, watching her path and following it as directly as he can. loose rocks and dirt shift beneath his paws though the earth holds steady.

one step at a time, he tells himself, distracted from a 'left, right, left' mantra repeating like a sea shanty in his head when she speaks her melodic words again: reassuring and insisting.

this tugs a chuckle from rhaegal's chest. insistin' do ye? he teases; a bit breathless from his uncertainty. he keeps his gaze trained upon her paws and their path; determined not to look up nor below as they continue the climb.

chacal, he tests her name out; noting how it sounds in her melodic tone and his rough brouge; more like the rumble of a seastorm instead of the lulling calm of low tide. ye say ye come from the sea, aye? he hopes to strike up and keep a steady conversation going, at the very least to distract himself. thus far, it appears to be working to soothe his nerves at the increasing height.

there be many sea wolves like us?

The sound of his laughter- gentle, like how the waves sounded against stone from high above on the cliffs- encouraged her opinion of him. She wanted him to enjoy the trip, at least in retrospect once his nerves settled. He was doing well to keep up, and to ignore whatever fears he had of the journey, or the heights. The higher they went, the more their view would open up. The skies had begun to grow brighter, making their surroundings more visible. The journey would get a bit tougher, but the visibility would only improve. She hoped, though, to reach their destination before sunrise. 

"It is what I just said," she confirmed, with a good-natured chuckle. 
"But yes, it is true, I live by de sea-
and dere be many ot'ers, who live like you an' me.
De sea we know, she takes an' she give,
A life by 'er side is de right life to live." She said. 
"Dere be several packs 'ere, dat live along de shore-
a place I'm sure you will come to explore." 

She tilted her head, and a faint smile came to her face. 

"Come now- just a bit further, though we must run,
I want us to reach de ledge before de sun!" She said. With a whoop, she leapt forward, and began the last scramble along the mountainside where the terrain was loose- and going with speed was the only way to climb up without simply sliding back down.

aye, speaks rhaegal in murmured agreement with her words. he couldn't imagine living a life away from the sea, though who was to say where this path of life would take him. he was so confident he might find a home among one of the sea packs in these wilds but life was unpredictable and there was no way to know for sure if that was true.

he might find himself living in a forest or by a creek or — this thought brings with a small noise that was akin to a gulp — on a mountain.

he pushes these thoughts away as she races forward, up the sloping curve their path has progressively taken. wearily, rhaegal eyes it before he pushes himself into a run after her; long legs covering the loose rock of the path with a quickness that did not feel so quick.

heart thuds rapidly within its prison of flesh and bone as he joins her at the ridge just as the sun begins to set the horizon alight. he takes an uneven breath; golden gaze soaking up the brilliant, vivid colors of the sunrise; flowing across the dark canvas of sky like spilled paints.

what a view. breathes the seadragon in quiet awe.

The view was beautiful enough to steal breath away- and she could sense Rhaegal's amazement from the hitch in huffing and puffing as he clapped eyes on the horizon sprawled before them. The ocean, calm in the morning, was a mirror of gold reflecting the early morning hues of the sky. From behind them, to the East, the sun peaked, but they were cast in the mountain's shadow which reached out toward the ocean like a great navy cape. And between them and the golden ocean was land still shuddering in frost, that sparkled for miles and miles. 

She nodded knowingly in agreement. 
"It is quite a beauty for de eyes,
everythin' from de shore, the forest, de sparkling skies." She said, and paused for a moment. 
"If we leave now, an' go at a gallop,
we can see de sunset from de top."

She looked down her muzzle at him with amused eyes to catch his reaction before she tossed her head back and laughed at her own joke. 

"Now tell me, Rhaegal, what brings you to dese ends?
Do you search for a home? Family? Revenge?" 

She wanted to know more about him- without necessarily exposing the fact that she knew another Sveijarn already. It wasn't necessarily out of spite for Njord, having hurt both Sobo and Meerkat- after all, this man who shared his name could have been hunting him down, chasing him back to Sapphique for all she knew- but she intended to find out what she could, as harmlessly as possible.

rhaegal peers at her from the corner of his eye as she mentions of they gallop they could reach the top. he is not keen on the idea of going any further than they have already gone; for while the view was spectacular he still feels a bit unsettled from being so high away from solid earth.

in a perhaps almost comical turn of events, rhaegal presses himself against the stonewall of the peak, shoulder digging into the sharp stone.

he does not share in her amusement; lips pursing into a terse line as she laughs. still, he takes her joke with good nature all the same.

nothin' so dramatic as revenge, he grins. nah, i be searchin' for a crew. a home. to start me own family. the very and base desires that had pushed him to strike out from mearas island: where there were too many corten-sveijarns and cortens and the fact that he'd felt suffocated by his own kin there.

He's stiff- still not willing to trust his environment and relax enough to enjoy the joke. Chacal had to wonder if he thought her sadistic, for taking some pleasure in being up so high, but she hadn't forced him to come, and she would have preferred it if he wasn't so tense. She kept her gaze to the horizon, to spare him the shame of being eyed up while he scooched closer to the rock behind them. 

Not revenge. That was a positive start, but she wouldn't believe him immediately. 

"You must come from a big family den, hmm?
It seems to be de way-
dose from big families do not often stay." 

An observation she'd made, in seeing her own family members depart from Sapphique. She knew she had many older siblings she'd never met, who had dispersed as well, and Loko too had gone wandering. It was an impulse Chacal couldn't quite comprehend; then again, she'd ended up at the top of the roost in terms of ranks, so she enjoyed the luxury of having a say in what choices her family made.

aye, drawls rhaegal in a solemn nod. me clan is large, larger than just the island i was born tae. he tells her, thinking of just how vast the corten, sveijarn and corten-sveijarn clan was. bigger, maybe, than even rhaegal himself knew. hard tae, sometimes. he murmurs in contemplation, ears cupping forth atop his skull.

when ye always be overshadowed by yer family.

or maybe that was just him.

at any rate, there'd been entirely too many kin in one place for his liking.

's nae so bad, he says then, in conclusion. leavin' is a chance for new opportunities.

An island- hadn't Njord come from an island? This man was, for certain, a relation of Njord's...And he seemed harmless enough. She wouldn't have to hide Njord's whereabouts in order to protect him from this stranger who'd come wandering, and for a moment, she considered that it might be wrong of her to sequester such information. Maybe he would want to find his...Whatever it was that Njord was to him. Any conflicted feelings she had about sharing Njord's whereabouts were put to sleep when he admitted that he wanted to get out, and start his own legacy, where he wouldn't be overlooked. It was nice when things sorted themselves out like that. 

"I t'ink you be right, if dat be de case,
to go out in de world an' find your own place. 
If you be overshadowed, den get out of de shade,
fin' a new place where your light can be made." 

She thought he might appreciate the encouragement. Perhaps his family hadn't been so supportive of his choice- it might help him, then, to hear it from someone else. To bring a bit of levity, she drew in a breath of crisp, morning air and smiled. 

"I t'ink you will fin' opportunity by de dozen;
and at least dis way, you won't marry your own cousin."

She gave him a toothy grin, once again pleased with her own cleverness.

aye, drawls the seadragon in a soft breath that belayed — despite his best efforts to appear as calm and collected as he wished to be feeling at the moment — the lingering nerves at remaining at their current height of the peak. talking helped, though. it forced his mind to think less of their elevation and more on the words she sing-songed and his answers.

a barking laugh rumbles in his chest; unexpected but genuine at her words of not marrying a cousin.

aye, ye be right. he agrees again, letting the laugh simmer into a chuckle before it settles into a grin tugging at the edges of his lips. dinnae wanna be marryin' me cousin. he drawls in another breath, deeper this time. the mountain air tastes different, cooler. more tangy with the evergreen pines that linger like needled sentinels below them. can we be headin' back down now? he asks with a sheepish expression taking shape upon his features. while he enjoyed the seeing the sunrise from the admittedly unparalleled view he very much wanted to be on level earth once more.

He seemed to have settled, just enough, to allow himself to laugh genuinely- but his request followed soon thereafter, and she nodded. She was a benevolent creature, and she found him sound enough that she thought he'd earned careful, safe guidance back down the mountainside rather than a swift boot from the cliff. Chacal liked heights- and how they could be used to rattle truths from strangers. She also found men to be more likeable when they showed vulnerability. 

"Aye. Careful an' slow, dat's how we will go." She said reassuringly. Reasonably charmed by the man, and proud of him for having denied his fears a victory, Chacal lifted her muzzle and rubbed her temple along his shoulder before she began to amble down the incline.

rhaegal could see the appeal in it, when he wasn't rattled by the height — he'd made the mistake of taking in the land that sprawls out beneath them and remembered the elevated height in which they stood. he takes an uneven breath, broken by his soft noise of relief when she agrees to head back down the peak.

slow and steady or fast and clumsy ( though instinct tells him that would only end in potential disaster ), he didn't much care how they descended the peak so long as they were back upon stable and relatively level earth soon.

rhaegal, at how her touch makes him aware of nerves he was otherwise not aware of, drawing a soft shudder along his spine, cannot hide his surprise. he is able to school his expression shortly, though, as he focuses his golden gaze upon the path back down.

it hadn't been a terrible climb, he assures himself, so surely the descent wouldn't be too bad either.

Sometimes, the descent could be harder than the ascent. It meant sitting back on her hocks, and putting more pressure on her knees, but Chacal was fit for the journey, legs strengthened by years running on sand. She stole a glance at him over her shoulder as discreetly as she could, and smile to herself thinking he might have had his eyes on her hindquarters- only to realize he seemed much more invested in his footing. She would've forgiven him had she caught him looking at her, and she realized that maybe, she wanted him to. With winter drawing near, she wasn't surprised to find herself longing for attention again. 

Gradually, they descended from the messy, rocky scramble to firmer ground, and entered the treeline again. At this point, she figured they could resume conversation, and side-stepped to allow him to come alongside her. She inhaled. "Mmm, de smell of evergreen." She lilted affectionately, closing her eyes for just a moment to relish the scent of the tall pine trees that they walked through.

though chacal was a lovely vision and would've been an equally as lovely distraction, rhaegal was determinedly and wholeheartedly intently focused on his footing on the descent. he didn't trust the rocky slope — nor, perhaps himself — to remain steady. he keeps close to the jagged rocky wall, using it like a stair banister with his shoulder scraping along the rocks until they reached the bottom.

to show such weakness upon a very first meeting was a bit of an ego bruiser and went against everything his parents had taught him: both fierce and as mercurial as the sea herself. but, he readily argues with those thoughts: they also taught him to challenge his comfort zones.

she relishes in the smell of the evergreens whilst rhaegal relishes being back on solid earth. evergreens got nothin' on the smell of the sea. he grins, confidence bolstering now that his level of comfort was returning.

She rolled her glance toward him, glad to hear him yet again speak so amorously of the ocean. "Mmm. And de scent is not de only treat; fresh seafood be very hard to beat," She said. After all, she spent the majority of her life scavenging from tide pools, especially when the pack was more focused on raising children than sending out big hunting parties. It seemed to suit the blossoming pack just as well, to harvest their food in such a way that allowed them to preserve their energy, especially leading up to winter. 

"What be your favourite food to eat?" She asked then. A much less personal question, now that she was no longer concerned about his family, and whatever reasons had brought him this far, in the path of one of his relatives.

aye, murmurs rhaegal in agreement; letting the sound linger in his throat as a low rumble. though this question is less personal, it stumps the seadragon for a moment. his favorite anything wasn't something he'd had to consider and now that he was faced with doing just that he lingers in a contemplative pause.

hmm.

he parts his lips to speak then closes them with an audible click of his teeth; followed by a soft chuckle. i dinnae ken, he admits; sheepish. venison, maybe. not a logical answer for a seafarer ...but on meares island venison was the delicacy as opposed to sea creatures the ocean had spit up upon the shores for them.

She was impressed. "You enjoy a good pack hunt, den?" was her followup question. She'd already been told that he had a large family....Bigger families would be capable of doing such things. Something of that like was on her mind as well- it would be good for the pack to have a good meal before the more difficult part of winter set in. She chuckled. 
"I t'ink I was...but a sapling, when I attack my first deer.
T'ree of us be out been hunting, an' de beach was clear-
save for a buck, slim an' fine.

We chase 'im to de waves, an' we make 'im swim,
We wore 'im down, 'til we thought we had 'im,
but den he gouge me wid 'is tine." 

She chuckled. She missed Haunt, and their hunting and tracking adventures. 

"We did not know at dat time, an found out too late,
dat my friend could not swim well, so we 'ad to retreat
But you can bet, we got 'im next time." She grinned.

aye, speaks rhaegal in affirmation that she was correct, ears cupping forth atop his skull; drinking in the scents of the peak. different from the scents of the sea and sparking a homesickness for it ( despite that he knows he wasn't terribly far from it ). the strong and the swift of the island would take a three day trip tae bring down a deer. once in the autumn and once in spring.

a soft smile tugs at the edges of rhaegal's lips; a subconscious gesture.

rhaegal is quiet, attentive as she tells her story: of her first deer hunt. he raises a brow quizzically at the idea of a deer being on the beach but supposed it was a boon for them. likely, separated from it's herd. lost.

lady luck, she was with ya. he murmurs, thinking of how he's seen deers kill a wolf with their antlers. hunting deer wasn't without it's risks. tae live by the sea and nae ken how tae swim? risky. he says this teasingly, mostly, with only a twinge of seriousness.