Wolf RPG

The red rock canyon had been a great surprise for the pale traveler. Sunlight had streamed down and warmed the stone beneath his paws. There were signs of packs having lived in the hidden places. Their abandoned dens left behind for the next to come. 

Kinloch ventured west only when he felt himself grow attached to the canyon terrain. So unlike his home, it had been a day of wonder while he rested and hunted the quick prey across the red stone. 

When he left the canyon behind, the young man had pointed himself toward something familiar - a forest. As the shadows embraced him, Kinloch breathed a sigh of relief.

There’s a pack to the east of Paleo now. Anselm considers his options, lips pursed by the unexpected detour he’d have to take. 

He swung south now, nose to the ground as he read the familiar and unfamiliar scents of the world. In his mind’s eye a picture was painted - a tapestry of forest and arboreal creatures, a thousand different lives all hidden and unseen. 

He froze when a familiar scent rose to his senses; wolf. 

But where? Anselm began to trail the scent path, head low as the forest gradually darkened into heavy undergrowth.

Kinloch pressed on, unaware of the young shadow that trailed behind him. The unknown drew the silver wolf deeper into the wood until he happened upon the remnants of a wolf den. Scents had faded from it long before the Frostfur boy had found it. The forest had been a home, once. It was curious to know this and look upon the trees and earth. He wondered what it was like for the wolves of the dark wood.

Ogling the foliage, Kinloch turned and caught the glint of orange eyes. His head lifted, shooting back in surprise.

Who follows? the pale man called into the trees. Wary but not fearful, Kinloch's tone was welcoming enough to lure the watcher from their hiding place.

Anselm was no master stealthman, and before long his presence was discovered. He slowed as a voice hailed him; the tone was neither aggressive nor accusatory, and yet still his shoulders hunched.

Anselm Sonnenwasser. He could not help the teenage sulk which hounded his frame now. Are you part of that pack to the east? The boy's nose told him no, but he was still learning so much about scent detection these days.

Anselm, the silver man echoed, nodding once.

The boy looked a bit sullen. Kinloch wondered if he had spoiled the young wolf's attempt at stalking. It hadn't been his intention. If he could, he would make it up to Anselm.

The question mentioned a pack to the east. His ears swiveled toward it and then stood perked. It would be beneficial to stop at their borders, to see what kind of wolves had claimed that land. There was a good chance that he could learn more about the surrounding areas.

I am apart of no pack. Not yet, anyway. A smile was offered, followed by a wave of Kinloch's tail. Maybe you could tell me more about this area.

Anselm straightened slightly, anticipating this man to tell him anything but the truth. His mother's skepticism ran wild in him, but Kinloch gave him nothing but honesty. For this he felt his edged shoulders soften, following the stranger's gaze to the outlands.

Not being part of a pack was such an alien principle to Anselm. How did they survive, who was their family? Did they miss them? Was it hard being out in the world, alone? So many questions budded to life, only to never leave the tip of his tongue. Not yet, anyway.

I don't know anything about them, really. Just that they popped up one day, the way weeds do. He couldn't help the dismissiveness of his tone - while he didn't look down on strange packs, he did not love them; he recognized them for what they were.

Competition.

I'm from Paleo. There's a few branches of packs known to me along the mountain range, but this one is new. It is fertile hunting grounds, but the more packs there are the less likely we could all be sustained. Are you not from around here?

The boy had done better than he let on. The pack had sprouted up - like a weed - and had caused concerns for Paleo. Anselm had a good mind about him, if he was expressing concern for his home and his family. It said enough for his character that Kinloch was compelled to visit Paleo, offer to hunt for them for a short time. He could fill caches and take the younger ones on a scouting trip to hunt for herds.

I'm not from here, no. I was born to my family's pack and left them… half a year ago. To see the world, I suppose.

It felt boyish to say this. Kinloch could feel his cheeks warm. He chuckled at himself to relieve the rush of embarrassment.

I'm Kinloch. I'd love to see your home, if you could spare a tour. I'd be willing to repay you and your family.

Anselm's reservations about this wolf ebbed the more he learned. In hindsight, he may have been hasty to assign some sort of evil motive for loners. He wondered if some of them were just down on their luck, and he was about to press for the whys of Kinloch's leaving his natal pack, when the man shared it.

Perhaps wolves were just hardwired differently. Rather than wonder what was wrong with Kinloch for leaving his home to explore the world, Anselm examined himself internally and asked himself what was wrong with him?

I'd have to ask my parents, I think. A similar blush to Kinloch's rose to Anselm's face now - for what boy-slash-man still asked for mommy and daddy's permission? Anselm did - was there something wrong with him, then?

Did you see the world, then? He moved off at a slinky walk, motioning Kinloch to fall in step besides him as they meandered towards Paleo.

That's perfectly fine.

Kinloch had no issues with Anselm's request to speak to his parents first. It was responsible. The young wolf had been raised into a fine young man, it seemed. His parents must have been proud of him and his accomplishments. For a boy from a large family, Kinloch wondered how many others were there in Paleo. How many brothers and sisters did Anselm have?

I saw a lot of the world, the silver wolf said. You might be surprised to know how much of it there is.

It was the first shock he had experienced. No matter how hard he had pushed, no matter the miles beneath his paws, Kinloch had never run out of earth to travel upon. There was no end to the world. It would stretch on forever.

Are there any places nearby that you like? A question for a question.

Anselm's heart would have burst with pride to learn he was seen as responsible. In his mind, he had only ever been fumbling.

He wondered after this man -- what great vistas had he seen with his own two eyes? What impossible heights had he climbed with nothing but himself and the cold air for company? And most of all, how many miles had he put under his heels between him and his family?

He was relieved to see no judgment in his peer's eyes. I'd like to see it, someday. He admittedly didn't know when that would be. There is a mountain range east of us that has good views and a lot of prey. I think that is my favorite spot, besides home. What about you, what was your favorite spot you saw?

A mountain to the east. Kinloch would remember it and he would visit it, thinking of Anselm. It would be nice to see somewhere new. It would satisfy him to know what kind of beauty the boy saw in the world so close to his home.

There's a canyon, northeast from here. It has high walls and snakes sleeping on sunny rocks. I've never seen a place like that before. I thought it was beautiful.

His answer was simple. The territory would likely be surpassed by another, as most of them are. For the time, the canyon would remain fast in his memory. When the next stunning landscape captured his soul, it would be even grander.

For a moment Anselm let his imagination take him to the world Kinloch had seen. The way it was depicted, it sounded ethereal.

Except for the snakes.

He'd prefer to imagine wolves or foxes sleeping on those sunny rocks - not some ophidian order which may or may not kill him.

Maybe I'll go there someday. He motioned quietly to where he imagined Kinloch had traveled from. Were there many wolves out that way?

I'm afraid not. The canyon looked to be freshly abandoned. There were signs of other wolves, dens, even caches with rotting food.

A shame to see such a beautiful territory, left behind by its occupants. The canyon would endure. All wild things found a way to endure. The living had left an imprint on the earth. In their time occupying the stone fortress, they had made their presence known. Kinloch knew that it would not remain so. The earth would eventually remove all signs of the wolf, and the snake, and the swift-footed rabbit.

You know, if your parents were alright with it… I wouldn't mind going with you.

That was if young Anselm would mind the company.

Anselm knew nothing of the red sands. He tried to conjure up a mental image of that place from Kinloch’s account, but his imagination was hardly charitable and in the end he rounded his shoulders with a shrug. 

He would tell @Mahler and @Wylla what he’d learned of the rotting caches and absent wolves. That’s too bad for them, good for hungry travelers. He grinned and wondered where those wolves had gone. Motioning for Kinloch to fall in step alongside him, the boy made for Paleo. It is a few hours of travel. Maybe you can tell me of what else you’ve seen? 

It felt good to find company like Anselm in an unfamiliar place. The boy was bright and polite. He seemed keen on doing right by his parents, which showed a good sign of love existing in their family. In many ways it would remind Kinloch of his home and his family.

I'll tell you all I can, the silver wolf said.

There are some curious lands to the south of here. Redrock and pale sands.

Kinloch would recount the most interesting of the places he had journeyed, careful to ask questions that would involve Anselm. He didn't want to droll on until the boy had grown tired of his tales. It felt good to speak of his journey. The future looked promising as Kinloch looked back.