Wolf RPG

arktos had settled into a routine fairly easily: wake up before the sunrise, offer his wife a kiss on her cheek, snack on whatever scraps he'd tucked into a haphazardly dug cache the night before and follow the bison herd's freshest trail. it's a decent sized herd, and every day the warbear watches them closely, monitoring their numbers, their movements — pleased that they do not appear to cross the borders he'd begun making — trying to suss out which one ( or few ) were their leaders.

if they even cared to have such a thing. surely, though, like their canine counterparts the herd had one or two that they looked to. or perhaps they didn't. perhaps he was trying to fit them into the same box as his kith and kin.

they were herd animals but that didn't mean they operated like a pack. still, there's a larger bull that he keeps a keen eye on suspecting that if they did have a leader it might be him.

after spending a few hours shadowing them — but making no attempts to hide: wanting them to know he is there so they did not spook when more joined. or heaven forbid, when yellowstone had eager and naive pups to wrangle — he heads to the borders to continue where he'd left off; lifting his leg to mark the soil that he turned up with a few kicks of his paws.

Since the bison hunt by the collective moon villages, Mojag had not gone far. He had seen off his sister Ajei, visited with his mother Shikoba for a time, but inevitably found himself upon the plains; he watched another segment of the massive herd with the idle intent of hunting, but mostly to study.

He saw how the cows moved to watch him yet they showed no obvious fear. Their grunts and calls became like white noise to his ears—and while Mojag observed the way their bulls paced with one-another, he did not venture too close. Having seen what the many villages had accomplished, he knew they could be hunted and that it was a very dangerous task.

Mojag was content to study the giants as he lived upon the plains. Over time he observed the strange long-necked, more flighty creatures that he likened to deer; one such among them had given birth, but Mojag wasn't interested. He kept his space from those creatures to favor the bison.

It was during a mindless hike that Mojag took notice of another wolf upon the plains; it wasn't the first, likely wouldn't be the last to pass through. However, this particular man was marking the ground and making his presence known to the herd, almost like a challenge. Intrigued, Mojag made his way closer.

He called out, You'll need more bodies if you hope to hunt them. That was obvious to any hunter—but it served as a good ice-breaker when confronting the stranger. He looked entirely capable of doing some damage to a bull, which was a touch intimidating.

i'm not interested in huntin' them, arktos responds, pausing briefly in his border marking to peer at the earthen and cream colored young man, before he kicks up some more dirt, utilizing the scent glands in his paw pads. at least, not right now.

we're layin' claim to these plains, me and my wife. arktos explains, wincing slightly as a barbed and reedy flora of some time tugs small tufts of fur out of his shoulder.

the herd's under our — yellowstone's — protection. he warns, casting mossgreen gaze to the young man where it remains, steady; soft breaths pushing from his flanks.

The man continued to work the earth, imparting his scent. It was clear to Mojag that he was trying to claim some part of the plains; then he explained he was not about to hunt the bison, he was in pursuit of a home for himself and his wife. This made sense given the season.

The name of the place he wished to form was not so odd to Mojag, and he accepted that he might be standing where this Yellowstone village was to stand, one day. There is an odd tone to the man's voice though—something he'd heard from other adults when he was a boy, when he used to investigate the village limits and find one of them intercepting a stranger.

A warning.

Mojag chose not to take offense.

I have lived among these bison for a while, he went on to explain, although it was not something the man asked of him. I am from Moontide, originally. The moon villages control much of the land in this valley—and they recently joined together for a hunt of these bison. It was a great feast.

He looked to the distant shapes with a mixture of awe and appreciation; then he looked to the well-built man, not afraid to match his gaze or to show his confidence. My name is Mojag.

a name is offered — mojag — along with useful information; that a string of villages controlled much of this area. even so, that doesn't intimidate arktos who grunts his 'thanks' at the information, mulling and chewing over what is offered to him as if it were a cinnamon toothpick betwixt his lips.

unaware that morningsong had been apart of one of these moon villages, arktos considers that once yellowstone's a little more settled, once there are more bodies and less chance of interlopers he would seek out neighbors. introduce himself and yellowstone. but right now his focus was on his homeland.

he pauses in the guileless work, drawing in a deep breath while his moss green gaze assess mojag closer. arktos, introduces the warbear. yellowstone's recruitin', if you're interested. just so long as this young man didn't hold the same delusions as the other one: that if he didn't accept he could keep traipsing the land like it was a free territory.

Knowing now that a village was forming, Mojag had to make a decision. He did not want to part from the plains at all—the bison were too intriguing to him, and there was so much more of them he wished to study—but in order to continue following this desire, he'd have to adapt to the changes occuring. He thought it was fortunate that the man was recruiting, and that he appeared to be agreeable; this Arktos.

Mojag wasn't usually introspective or quiet; his habit as a boy to yell or to sing had fallen by the wayside as he'd matured, but if he needed his voice he would use it, and was unafraid. If it means I can stay upon these plains, then I would like to be of help. He figured it would benefit him to be up-front about his desires, in the end.

I can show you to where the villages made their temporary camps and maybe there will be something to be salvaged there; or I can leave you to the work you're doing and go patrol elsewhere. If this was acceptable, Mojag would consider himself recruited—and he looked now to Arktos to gauge his reaction.

mojag speaks in favor of staying, clearly drawn to these lands in a way that arktos can not necessarily understand. it works in yellowstone's favor though, so he does not question nor draw any objection to it. alright, arktos draws gruffly. welcome to yellowstone, mojag.

you can show me, if you'd like. i wouldn't say no to searchin' 'em just in case. whatever was left behind was a boon for yellowstone, after all. i'd offer you a tour after, but i doubt you need one. instead, i'll introduce you to my wife @Nephele and you can decide whether you want to help me at the borders or do your own thing.

It seemed the matter was settled.

Mojag was more than happy to follow-through with his offer. He knew of at least one camp that was nearby, although it would take them a little farther from the herd of giants. He moved to escort the other man with the intention of seeking this out; meanwhile, he listened to the name Arktos gave and determined it was unfamiliar.

The camp set up by Moontide is this way, he explains as the pair move along the plain. It is still a fair distance from them, but as they climb a segment of the grassland there is a small vantage point which Mojag can use to orient himself, and he motions to the distant shape of tilled earth, crushed grass, and various now-filled cache marks.

Taking a moment to think, Mojag looked to the east and then to the south, and a light sparked in his vision.

Ah, and that way there is a waterway, and that is where the Moonglow camp was set. On the other side of the water there is a thicket where the village Moonsong made a camp, but I did not explore so far while the hunt was happening. It was up to Arktos where they went next; if they chose one of the camps to dig-out, or split to doing separate things entirely.

Maybe the man did not want to leave the bison unwatched? Mojag would not be offended either way.

arktos follows mojag's lead, pausing when he paused.

mossgreen gaze maps out where he gestures, noting the signs of a camp left abandoned. or, perhaps unfortunately not with the intention of abandonment. either way, it was yellowstone's property now.

lets head to the closest, the one made by moontide, decides the wrangler, lifting his nose to the slightly arid wind. still, it held a chill that was beginning to wane with each passing full moon. two, perhaps three more were left before summer would be barreling towards them.

we'll take stock of what, if anything, we can salvage from it. i should start on my patrols soon. what you choose to do is up to you. there was no shortage of work that needed done and while arktos expected mojag to pull his weight and help, he wasn't going to dictate the specifics.

It felt good to be useful again. He could not remember how long it had been; his days with Moontide had been the last, he thought to himself. He had been a boy then.

Arktos elected to seek the first, the nearest camp. It was a sensible request and Mojag gave a small nod as he moved to escort the other man. It would not take long to ascertain what remained. The groups had done well in their packing-up but Mojag believed something might be found that would benefit this man and his pursuit.

I could dig out the remains, if that helps. You could return to your patrols if it takes too long between the two of us? He did not want to waste the man's time with this, not when there might be other important things to do.

As soon as he could, Mojag began to snuffle around the grass and investigate the flatter sections of the camp, where perhaps individuals had slept, so he could discern if there was anywhere to dig.

the pair investigate the camp for a bit, but after a while of turning up nothing that arktos would deem useful, arktos considers mojag's offer a bit more than he had when it was first made to him. it hadn't felt right to let mojag check out the abandoned camps by himself, but it would be wiser, arktos realizes, to let him do just that.

the borders needed tended carefully with the influx of trespassers yellowstone'd had in the past few days; sawing away at what remained of arktos' patience for them.

woe would be to the next wolf that crossed their borders without a Yellowstone escort.

i'm going to return to the borders, arktos informs mojag after another yawn of fruitless minutes of upended dirt. don't forget to introduce yourself to nephele and the others.

he begins to walk, pausing only long enough to cast, welcome to yellowstone, mojag. over his shoulder before heading towards the nearest border.