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Without the support and strength of a pack, Pied could only rely on herself for sustenance. Her efforts to track down food led her away from the forest, this time heading southwest into the foothills. The ground underfoot soon began to climb into the mountains and she persisted in her tracking, her stomach growling hollowly as she picked her way through the rocks in search of prey.

What she found instead—entirely by accident—was a lake sunk into the mountainsides, creating a bit of a fishbowl hidden amidst the alps. Pied wandered to the water's edge and, in lieu of food, dulled the edge of her hunger with a long, cold drink. When she lifted her head and licked away the spare droplets, she saw Mag skimming the lake's surface without leaving so much as a reflection.

Turning away from the lake, Pied plodded along the small strip of shoreline and then pressed into the underbrush. She didn't get far before she snicked her paw against a large stone. Sucking in a breath, Pied held the paw off the ground and gave it a slight shake. Once the pain faded, she inspected the rock. Driven by curiosity, she pressed her nose underneath it like a shoehorn and, with a grunt, rolled it out of its bed of cold earth.

Despite the dim light of a wintry day and dense brush, Pied spotted a few hibernating bugs squirm in protest. Without a thought, she began to pluck them, one by one, and swallow them with a quiet smack of her lips.
Tough, crunchy yellow tufts of grass stuck up from the snow patches, snapping like brittle bones under his footsteps. The sound was a remembrance of wintry times- his most prized season. Already the white cottonballs had fallen from a gray belly, smearing the landscape with haphazard jackets of snow. Dovev had only recently settled into the mountains, and already barren stone and earth were freezing to the touch. It wouldn't be long until even the fast moving creeks would ice over, leaving a seemingly silent realm.
The ivory wolf had walked this trail before; it lead from his Porcupine Ridge and along the base of the mountains. The dirt was coated in dead grass and white and sloped down to meet with rocky ledges along the plains. Farther up lay steep inclines and cliffs, jutting into the sky and supporting the towering mountain above. Pine trees and cedars clung with exposed roots to the tousled soil, whose face was constantly barraged by the wind. It reminded him of home. Or what used to be of his home. So, he felt at ease when he woke from each slumber, regardless of night or day, to hunt amongst the narrow valleys. There was a certain quality Dovev had developed chasing rabbits and stray goats through the crags, in which the male used his size to bring down his prey efficiently. But even with this skill, the going was hard and Dovev usually slept upon his favorite lookout rock to conserve his energy. But this morning had stirred his senses with the scent of a wolf, drifting through the frosty breeze. As Dovev patrolled his way through the inclines and depressions on the mountains, he came onto the lip of a sharp overhang, jutting over the beach of a large glacier lake. The glacier itself was spotted between the v of two mountain peaks, a solid, glittering pack of ice. He sweeped the pebbly beach below with steely grey eyes for his target. Whoever this wolf was, he or she wasn't welcome in Dovev's winter home. But what he spotted was not some threat- but rather comical. A slightly skinny female was digging around in the scrappy underbrush, her muzzle buried under the bushroots and rocks. As Dovev slid down the small cliff, he could discern beetles flying away and the sound of crunching rung in his ears. Well, that's a healthy meal.
Scimitar, after doing a loop around the borders of Tuatha De borders, skirted around their territory and outward, his nimble mountain paws manoeuvring their way around the slopes and ridges of his home. Heading more northward, the agouti wolf was always keen on exploring in his old home, and had decided his new settlement should prove to be no different. He hoped to remain a long term resident of the area -- if only because of his innate desire to call something home.

His journey did not take him far -- Tuatha De was a smaller pack, and he would not leave it unattended for more than a day's worth. He came upon a large lake -- the pebbled shore of the waters was inviting, and as the male began to make his way down to quench his thirst, the sound of a male voice caused him to pause mid-step, one ivory limb hovering carefully over the incline as his bright eyes scanned the area more attentively now.

To his right, his gaze fell upon two pale figures -- both seemingly white in appearance, though one's pelt was mottled with other hues. He was far enough away to only hear the male's voice, rather than the words themselves, and without another thought, the cinnamon male redirected his stance and trailed toward the other two. His pace was leisurely, despite his curiosity, and as he moved closer, he ushered a low 'woof' to gather their attention to his presence. He had yet to meet many residents within the lands he called home and was not about to give up this opportunity.
Although small and rather terrible in taste, the morsels nonetheless took the worst edge off her bitter hunger. When she finished off the final squirming bug, she withdrew and sat on her haunches, licking her chops. When her tongue caught a stray insectile leg and drew it backward into her gullet, she almost choked. Somehow, she managed to swallow it, though not without a grimace.

Her squinted eyes rapidly shot open again when she heard someone approaching, from above of all places. Her pale head snapped backward to see a burly white male descending the rocky slope toward her. Although not a particularly cagey creature by nature, Pied felt her hackles prickle slightly as he approached. She remained tense but relaxed somewhat when he made no aggressive overtures and, instead, made a gently sarcastic remark about her choice of sustenance.

Her gray ears flattened somewhat, though Pied took a steadying breath and told herself not to be ashamed. She was in a predicament that was largely out of her control and she was doing her best. If a resentful light had entered her gaze at the stranger's comment, she pushed it back and managed a tight-lipped smile. This expression wasn't difficult solely because of him but because of her situation overall and the fact that she could still taste the foul flavor of arthropods on her tongue.

Before she could come up with some clever rejoinder, another wolf appeared on the scene. Again, Pied stiffened, though the equally large but significantly more colorful—particularly those enchantingly aquamarine eyes—wolf proved just as harmless as the first. He presented himself with a quiet woof and a rather easygoing demeanor, despite his taciturn entrance.

"Hi," Pied said blandly after a moment, ears flicking. What else was she supposed to say? Her two-toned gaze roved from one male to the other. "I'm Pied. And the bugs, by the way, were delightfully crunchy," she added for the pale male's benefit in particular, the tiniest trace of a tired smirk lining her maw.


He let out a short huff as his sight caught the slight slip-up the fae had while eating. She had picked up on his presence only when the white beast slid down the embankment and sent small chunks of dirt tumbling before him. Dovev didn't feel threatened by her presence and the fact she was close to his chosen roaming ground. How could such a creature, eating bugs, send the steely pooled wolf into a state of worry? Or was his assumptions misjudged when a second being came into range. Dovev's muzzle was lifted into the air, his curved black nostrils sensing no connection between the two. Yet they both happened to be wandering up the mountain..
The male stood slightly rigid, his ears erect and maw parted, face swung to let his eyes flicker from each stranger. Another male, who had denounced any harmful intentions with a light woof. Still, the situation was unnervingly conspicuous for the snowy titan. A pair of unapparently related wolves happened upon a well-hidden lake in the mountains. Although his outward expression was a cool mask, Dovev's guard was fully armored. But there was no point in chasing or even attacking them. As long as they didn't stray too far, his ridges and valleys were safely tucked away for the harsh winter months.
His attentions were drawn to the female again, with her spoken words ringing of her name. Pied. Well, it did match her rather striking coat. The male had yet to introduce himself, but Dovev's rapid evaluation found a large canid with a traditional tan and white coat and almost puppyish blue eyes. The white male himself decided to allow the awkward atmosphere to abide, and keep up the relaxed pace they had set. But there was no reason to give any of them personal details- yet. Dovev hadn't chosen to be on a first-name basis with any of them. Who knew? Perhaps one of them would be dead by spring. Pleased to meet you.
While the land they were upon now was a good distance from his home, the tawny male still felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him as he regarded the two strangers that played around the mountain. His own stance remained neutral, his eyes shifting between the two, neither friendly nor harsh. He was simply taking in the scenario before him, curious about the inhabitants of the lands he was only beginning to call home.

Of course, Scimitar had always been taken with females of any variety – the richest golds, much like Muirrin, the deepest ebonies, and the purest of white.. and yet the creature before him was enticing in a way he had never witnessed before, and while he did not truly stare, his aqua eyes skimmed over her intricate markings with intrigue. She was pretty, and while he noticed, he did not dwell on the matter. She was not of his pack.

The alabaster male was large – broad in build and healthy in appearance, to the point that Scimitar’s younger mind had to resist the desire to enter a friendly spar with the beast – to test himself, to learn. But again, the wolf was of little concern to the male, as he remained outside of Tuatha De. Shifting his weight, the male took this opportunity to prowl closer to the two, amusement only reaching his teal eyes as the she-wolf introduced herself in a relaxed manner. “Scimitar,” he offered briskly, his eyes then drifting to the ivory wolf, awaiting for his own introduction.
"I'd say the same, if you'd given me a name," Pied replied with good-natured sarcasm, intuiting that he withheld it for a reason, though she couldn't think of why. She didn't press the matter, though.

The agouti male came closer. In contrast to the other's reticence, he offered a name and nothing else. Pied's lips twitched slightly and she dipped her snout. "Nice to make your acquaintance, Scimitar," she said with tired warmth.

With introductions largely out of the way, Pied turned toward the white male (she thought of him as Pale Face) and then glanced at Scimitar, hoping to include them both in her gaze as she said, "So, do you either of you live in a pack around here?"

They both appeared robustly healthy, which almost certainly meant they weren't loners. It was rather obvious they weren't from the same pack, so that meant that there were two potential places Pied could go should she throw in the towel and give up on Bon Dye. Her stomach clenched at the thought and she held her breath without realizing it, her eyes lingering absently on Scimitar's handsome features in particular as she awaited their answers.


A faint gust of breathy wind caused his ears to swivel and flicker, reflecting his pensive state. They had exchanged names, and now Dovev was left to infer what sort of beings they might be. They didn't look hollow and ragged, a sign of care. Perhaps they were in a pack, or were just adept at surviving as he was, besides the fact the female had found a meal in insects instead of actual prey. The thought still brought a wry grin to his lips. His glazed blue pools observed silently as she asked a question. Pied's own orbs were glued to the other male, who had stalked quietly closer. The look wasn't hard to interpret, except the white beast was more concerned about his proximity. Dovev locked his gaze upon Scimitar, boring into colored pools that were so similar in hue, yet held completely different intentions. The arctic wolf's scruff bristled slightly while keeping a neutral stance. He had no desire for the other brute to come any closer than need be. Besides, he had been here first, hadn't he? And Dovev wanted the pair no closer to the ridges he called home than was needed. Might as well bait them away with information, anyways. He wasn't exactly thrilled to give in to the their questions and proddings. A name was sacred. It was a label, a tag, a meaning to each memory a wolf held inside its' mind. And by giving them his title was to lock his details permanently into their skulls. I am Dovev. And yes, I do live around here. Alone.
Whether it was because the she-wolf was more welcoming -- or the simple fact that she was a she and lovely at that, Scimitar found himself more drawn to her than the brusque and silent male. His own eyes would stray to the stranger who had yet to name himself, testosterone stirring and drawing the attention of how large this potential adversary was, and how skilled he might be in the arts of war.

Scimitar was sure he would be a challenging opponent, and felt a wave of excitement at the thought.

Yet it was not the time nor place, and with a shift of his weight, the cinnamon male looked to the pretty female as she spoke, giving a nod in return to the pleasantries. One ear flickered to the male as he stated his name.. and the fact that he was a lone wolf.

Ignoring to scoff at this life choice, Scimitar instead drifted his gaze back to Pied, unwilling to divulge too much information, and yet wanting to gain some knowledge of the other inhabitants of the area. "I do. Tuatha De. Yourself?"
Although the two males did not outwardly display aggression, Pied sensed a lightning bolt of tension crackling between them and intuited that she was part of the reason for it. Her suspicion was largely confirmed when they both addressed her while essentially ignoring one another. Pied laughed inwardly, a wry noise in her head.

The pale male surprised her inner voice into silence when he decided to introduce himself after all, including the fact that he was a lone wolf. How... she wondered to herself, her lips parting questioningly, but Scimitar's answer grabbed her attention before she could say anything. The name of his pack sounded vaguely familiar, yet Pied couldn't say why.

"Where's that?" she wondered, looking directly at Scimitar. She tossed Dovev a quick, sideways smile as if to say, I haven't forgotten you, while primarily training her attention upon the more colorful of the two.
The other remained silent now, and Scimitar cast him another glance just as Pied questioned him, overriding his own question. A small smirk pressed to his lips then as he glanced back to her, giving a light shake of his muzzle. "Ah, ah," he murmured, his tail giving an idle flick. Scimitar was not a suspicious wolf by nature, but he was also not about to reveal everything about his pack without hearing more of another in trade. "You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine." His tone became firmer near the end, hoping to make it clear that if she wanted to snoop in his own business, she best give way to some of her own.

The small exchange might have been what finally disgusted the other before them, or perhaps he had just given up on attempting to play polite, but without a word, the pale stranger shifted, moving away from them and onward. Scimitar allowed his aqua eyes to trail after him lazily, withholding a sardonic snort. As the rogue disappeared from view, the Frostfur male pointedly cast his eyes upon the she-wolf once more.
Perhaps deciding that this encounter wasn't to his tastes or favor, Dovev abruptly made himself scarce, leaving Pied and Scimitar looking at each other with quirked brows. She quickly moved past the sudden departure and gave the remaining male a sort of sheepish glance. She'd been distracted by the thick but silent tension and hadn't meant to overlook his earlier question.

"I'm from... Bon Dye," she said almost hesitantly. It didn't feel so applicable anymore. "We live in Blackfoot Forest." Pied decided not to get into the details of her pack's miserable status. "So? How about you?" She wondered if Scimitar's pack was faring better. Judging by his appearance—sure as shit.
The pale girl hesitated before telling him – almost as if she was pulling a name out of thin air for her current pack. Scim’s wolfish brows lifted slightly inquisitively, but he questioned no further. He was never one to pry in to another’s business if it seemed harmless enough, and he could think of no motivation here.

“Tuatha De claims The Sunspire,” he finally offered, his eyes drifting back to the direction the male had disappeared. There was little else to say about his pack – Muirrin, the Alpha, was never around and spare for himself and Luka, he was uncertain if she had many (if any) other followers. “Are you from these lands?” It was a different grasp at conversation, and while he could easily be on his way just as the ivory rogue had, he instead considered acquainting himself with the she-wolf further.
He mentioned the name Sunspire, which did not ring any bells, yet Pied was intelligent enough to deduce that it was a mountainous territory. She wondered what it would be like, living on rocky slopes after residing in forests or meadows all her life. It made her think of her grandmother, Mo, who famously despised heights. Pied didn't mind them, especially the vistas they offered.

Scimitar's next question brought her out of her musings. "I'm from the Seahawk Valley originally. I arrived in this general region around September, I think. What about you?" she asked, ignoring a strange curdling sound her stomach made which was hopefully too quiet for him to hear.
Scimitar blinked in return to her answer, slightly surprised at the sudden direction this conversation had drifted to.. at least, the common ground that had suddenly popped up. "My mother stayed in Seahawk Valley briefly. I believe I have relatives there as well," he mused quietly, his turquoise eyes now looking at her with a newfound curiosity. What ties did this mean the two of them possibly had, then?

Looking to delve in to this further, Scimitar canted his muzzle, shifting his weight now. "What is your last name?" His voice was light, potentially hinting that the question might have been found invasive. He only knew a small bit of Seahawk Valley's history -- his mother had told him the tale of how she and his uncle had attempted to rise a pack there at one point, but had left in the end until forming Dal Riata eastward of there. Rapier had mentioned a she-wolf they had nursed back to health after she had an accident -- as he recalled, the female had lost her memory.
She saw the flicker of recognition light up his eyes and he mentioned a familiarity with her homeland. When he inquired after her last name, Pied did not find the question invasive. Like him, she was intrigued by this possible connection and wouldn't mind digging through their respective backgrounds to see if there really was a distant association there.

"Starbuck," she answered him, knowing the name likely wouldn't trigger anything, "but I'm a descendant of the Redleaf-DiSarinno line. My mother's parents—my grandparents—are March Owl Redleaf and Aether DiSarinno. Do you know of them?" she wondered, knowing her grandparents had both come from noble families originating from a place known as the Salvaje Mountains Valley.
While his interest was piqued, it faded quickly when she answered him, and he gave a small shake of his creamy muzzle. “No, sorry, I don’t.” There was a small pause as he racked his mind, trying to recall the brief stories Rapier had told him when he had been a mere cub. “My mother spoke of the pack her and my Uncle tried to raise during their time in Seahawk Valley – my lineage is a mix of Frostfur’s and DeMonte’s.” There was a small pause, unsure if she would even recognize these names. “I am uncertain of my father’s side.”

He had never met his father, though it wasn’t a thought he had dwelled upon much. He had been given a name, and when given the choice, had proudly taken his mother’s family name to carry forward. She had raised him, and in turn, she was the only parent he would ever know or claim. “I’m not sure I would like the seaside myself.. but from what she said, it sounded like a very resourceful land to inhabit.”
When the name didn't ring a bell and Scimitar apologized, Pied shrugged a bony shoulder as if to say, It's all right. She thought the subject likely closed, until he mentioned two surnames: Frostfur and DeMonte. She'd heard of the latter, she was sure of it. She couldn't place it, though, and Pied simply didn't know enough about her grandmother Mo's past to bridge the gap. If she had, she would've realized they were distantly related and, furthermore, that Scimitar's mother had once rescued an amnesiac March Owl from certain death.

Alas, their mutual ancestry remained undisclosed. The topic shifted slightly and Pied—who felt sluggish with hunger—didn't immediately understand the segue. Then it occurred to her that Scimitar was referencing the valley. When comprehension dawned, she smiled and waved her feathery tail, though it soon stilled, as she was simply too weary to maintain the motion.

"I love the sea. I wish I could live close to it again," Pied mused, unaware at this juncture that the ocean lay just a few hour's travel away. Her lips pinched. "Living in a forest just isn't the same." Especially when it's filled with screaming foxes, she groused inwardly.

Speaking of the forest, Pied knew she should return to her home, empty as it was now. Even more pressing, she really needed to continue the search for food. Though it was tempting to ask Scimitar for help—or, hell, follow him home to this Tuatha Dé—the shackles of her blood oath still bound her. They'd loosened but were not yet broken.

"Hey, it was nice meeting you but I'd better get going," she said, meeting Scimitar's eyes a final time and once more admiring his chiseled features. "Take care, Scimitar," Pied said genuinely, giving no indication of the stabbing hunger pains that assaulted her as she dipped her pale muzzle and glided away into the gathering gloom.
When any form of a connection came up blankly, the male simple allowed a small smile to smooth across his creamy muzzle. A potential connection to his birth pack was lost, but he was far from disappointed. If anything, meeting another who was familiar of lands his own ancestors had once called home was oddly comforting.

She mentioned she loved the ocean – he had never truly visited one in his life, but from what he could tell, he would have agreed to disagreed.. he’d live his life happily on a mountain or forest any day. Perhaps, though, the forest was simply in his blood.

When the she-wolf before him mentioned it was likely time to go, he gave a nod in response. “You as well.” With a dip of his muzzle, the agouti wolf regarded her departing form, his own eyes drifting from her then to scan the territory around himself. The other male was long gone, and with the brief interlude now complete, Scimitar prowled in the direction of home, content to know that despite the quiet of the mountain, he was not completely cut off from the world.