Wolf RPG

rhaegal grows increasingly aware of the changes in @Vairë's body and what it means.

it lights a fire beneath him, pushing him to establish borders that had been a sort of haphazard free-for-all and to begin stocking up on food caches. fish. small woodland creatures; all wrapped in saltwater drenched seaweed in hopes of preserving the meat so it'd last longer.

and with any luck, keep thieving scavengers away.

he is on the hunt for seaweed this morning, grateful that the sea seems all too willing to spare it. already, thick, foamy strips of it hang betwixt his jaws and joins the small pile he's laid up on a bleached piece of driftwood.

With all the time she’d stayed with Reverie and Lestan, Bridget hadn’t actually fully realized there were others here. She’d caught scents here and there, of course, but passed them off to be roaming strangers. She’d been too caught up in her role as medic, and her attempts to hunt and lessen the burden they shared, to catch on to the fact that some scents remained constant.

So when she stumbled across a strange wolf marking the borders of his claim, a claim she happened to be living on, Bridget froze. Oh… shit. Sorry, you’re… you know Reverie and Lestan, right? I’ve been staying here, but I didn’t realize. Wow that’s embarrassing. She laughed, shaking her head, but all the while she watched his body language carefully. Her approach and apology had been as casual as ever, but if he took offense, she’d likely not be able to outrun this man in his own territory. Hopefully he found the situation just as funny as she did.

oh...shit,

the sound draws rhaegal's attention from the borders, his gaze snapping from the no-man's land to the butterscotch colored woman whom had stumbled upon him.

the sveijarn bristles, but his suddenly prickly nature no doubt had to do with the fact of his doewife's progressing pregnancy.

aye, drawls rhaegal, chin lifting. i be rhaegal, a pause is given, unsure what title, if any, to slap upon himself. it wasn't as if saltshore was official by any sort of means. they were, for all intents and purposes, a ragtag group that had decided to stay together.

but now ... now things were changing. they were different and rhaegal feels a primal nature to stake a claim where before he'd been rather content to be a stationary nomad.