Wolf RPG

Full Version: If he don't want me [J]
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
@Malachi

As time had progressed, Artok had gained a cynical personality in a sense. He was also much more serious than most his age. He also no longer played, unless it was a learning game. One could say that his uncle had ruined him for a child, had ruined his childhood. But as always he would defend him no matter how wrong he was until his last breath. They had gotten separated while they had traveled, how he wasn't sure. He thought perhaps just perhaps his uncle had abandoned him for good this time. He was always calling him an infection and telling him to get lost, maybe this time he had made it happen.

He was far too young to be on his own for long and it showed in the pinched way his belly felt. The way his skin hung off his bones. He was malnourished of a high degree. Even his eyes were blood shot and yucky from lack of sleep, food and proper care. He had continued doggedly forward, hoping that he would find his uncles scent along the way.

But now he had put it off far too long, he needed to find a pack. Part of him was disgusted with his uncle for leaving. He had liked wintersun and Solia. He had liked Jazz and Roheryn, but his uncle had left regardless and as he was the only family he had. He followed him, perhaps he would tell him more of his mother if he were to ever find him. He sighed and shifting his weight he trotted towards a nearby pack marker. He had seen a few packs on the way, this one, this one here he seemed to like the most. It reminded him of something, but what he didn't know. But this would make a good home for the Arrluk boy. So he lifted his muzzle to the sky and he howled.
All the young man wanted to do was sleep. His legs quivered from the week of near-constant travel, and he felt the weight of gravity drag at every bone. Having returned from his trip to the coast only hours before, when the sun had just begun its slow descent from its crowning peak, Malachi had not had the time to check on the others to see how things had fared with them while he had been gone. He would catch up with them soon. As it stood, he only had the time - and the initiative - to sink into the mossy ground beneath a shielding conifer and close his eyes in hope rest would come upon him soon.

But his nap was fitful at best, and he almost thanked the giver of the howl that blinked him wearily awake. Rousing from the ground, Malachi slunk from under the tree's heavy boughs and stretched out his legs one by one to shake them from their drowsy stiffness. After testing each limb with hesitant steps, he moved into a reluctant trot to meet the unfamiliar voice. Swinging his head from side to side, the young man attempted to clear his hazy mind and snap his thoughts back into the role he'd left behind.

What greeted him at the border caused a tight furrow to crease his brows - a child, and in a state of emaciation that caused his chest to tighten. Heart ripe with concern, the young man pressed his way toward the boy, scuffing up clots of snow as he moved with weary legs toward the scent line. "Hey, you alright?" The answer was obvious - one look in the child's face and anyone could see that he was not alright - but the words slipped from Malachi's mouth faster than he could think, and he felt his ears cant sheepishly to the sides.
Adlartok had not meant to wake anyone on this day. He had merely been doing his best to make sure he found a home. He curled his tail and waited patiently, making sure to keep his stance neutral and submissive. He was not about to make anyone want to kill him.

Adlartok took notice of the way he was studied, and he dipped his muzzle in respect. Adlartok didn't say anything for a moment just listened. In part due to the fact that he didn't really know how to answer him. I am okay for now. I am looking for a place in your pack if you'd be willing. I'm Adlartok Arrluk.
There was a slight pause before the boy responded to Malachi's prompt, as if the child searched for words he couldn't find. Fair, for the young leader's thoughts were in no better shape. When the boy finally answered, he spoke with respect in his voice, and with a tone of neutrality that did little to reflect the exhaustion Malachi assumed he faced. After a pause of his own, the young leader gave a dip of his muzzle to repay the child the respect he gave. "You are welcome here, Adlartok." Though his reason spoke against him - winter would only thicken in the coming days, and though they had the resources now, whether or not they would have enough to nourish a starved youngling in the coming weeks lay beyond his understanding - his heart spoke louder for more reasons than these. His own family had been shown kindness by others when they had struggled in the bleak midwinter, and the desire to show this compassion to the boy compelled him now.

Yet his welcome did not come without reservation. Though he would not turn Adlartok away, there was no hiding the child was much too young to be out on his own. If the child had run away, or if he had been separated from his kin, Malachi needed to know. "But where is your family?" He would reserve judgment until the child spoke, remembering Linnéa's story with some resistance and praying the wildcats had not gotten to this boy's parents, too.
Adlartok had not been searching for the right words, but rather the right emotions. He couldn't really tell the man that he longed for a father like figure. That he wasn't really sure what he wanted to do with himself and that he had been traveling with an uncle who had hated him one minute and loved him the next. How did you even speak about that...oh so by the way yea my uncle hated me, but there were times he loved me. Adlartok gave his head a gentle shake to shake away the detrimental thoughts and to make way for ones to answer the questions. I can hunt and I can stalk and I know stories. He wasn't about to not offer his own skills in respect to a home.

Adlartok stared at the man before him for a moment before he turned away. My mother died, my aunt died too. I had my uncle but we got separated I don't know where he is. He was too young to remember how his mother had died, and his uncle sin had told him not how his aunt had died, just that she was gone. She was mean anyway, so it didn't really bother him too much.
The boy was quick to list his credentials, to which Malachi replied with a surprised quirk of his brow. Adlartok was eager to help, and his willingness soothed some of the nerves that had risen in the young man moments before. A light grin pressed across his face, and he dipped his muzzle to show his approval. "I trust you will prove yourself a valuable member here."

In regard to the boy's presence here, the leader didn't know what he expected to hear. Malachi had his guesses, of course, for there were few reasons a youngblood like Adlartok would find himself seeking a pack in the dead of winter. Lost, a run away, left with no family to call his own - each spelled a bleak remembrance, and one the young man didn't want to make the child recall. But he had little choice but to do just that, for if there was family out there seeking the boy, he needed to know in case they came looking.

But though he had prepared himself for a tale of tragedy, Malachi felt the familiar prick of unease nibble at his toes when the boy turned his head away. Diverting his eyes to the ground, the young man searched the layer of snow while his ears caught Adlartok's every word, another story ripe with loss. But while empathy filled his heart, a nook stayed frozen, exhausted from feeling so deeply the pain of others. "Oh," was the uncertain noise the man mustered from his throat. His ears remained slack, and his brows furrowed in a gentle crease. "Will your uncle be looking for you?"
Artok would not run away from his home. Though in retrospect he had when he left with his uncle. Though in his defense he imagined his uncle told them they were going, or hoped so. He refused to think on that preferring to keep the past in the past.

Adlartok shook his head Probably not. I don't know though for sure, but he has always allowed me to make my own choices. So even if he did he would not take me away if I did not wish to go. He grew quiet then and lifted his eyes to the leader. I'm sorry if it is not what you wish to hear.
Adlartok's response stirred an odd discomfort in the sundry man, the product of an abstract thought not fully realized in itself. But the contemplation remained as an indescribable feeling, and Malachi let it fall with a twitching frown and a light flick of his ear.

Lowering his gaze to meet Adlartok's risen eyes, Malachi canted his head and took a moment to process the boy's words with more logical thought. The decision of Adlartok's uncle only stirred in the leader a thought of condemnation, and the sundry man left his judgment at that. He let his mind get taken, rather, by the boy's level of free-thinking. He couldn't recall having such freedom as a juvenile - though he hadn't seen it then, his parents had been silently navigating his life until he passed into adulthood, and even though they were not with him now, he still felt their hand directing his every move. He couldn't imagine a life without that, yet this boy seemed to be living such a life now. "It's what it is," he said after a pause, finding no better words to describe his thoughts. "But know that you may call Duskfire home as long as you wish to stay."
Adlartok did not see the frown or the twitch of the ear. He really had no idea that his answers were displeasing in anyway. They were rather dead pan he supposed and they lacked warmth and feeling, but it was just the way he was at this point.

Adlartok wagged his tail once and then twice. Thank you very much sir. I appreciate it. Is there anything you need me to do? Or some way I can pay you back for allowing me entry? His uncle had always taught him nothing was for free and he did his best to remember that. Not that his uncle had every really told him that, he had just always paid back those that helped them. Adlartok would do the same.
Malachi's let his tail sway off tandem with the boy's, delighted at the pleasure - and impressed with the ethics - of this young lad. "No need to pay me back. You'll do that time enough by being a helpful member of the pack. Though if you want something specific, we're always in need of good hunters." He offered with a slight dip of his head. If Adlartok retained his eagerness to help, Malachi could see him becoming a strong addition to the pack. Nea, and now Adlartok. He felt a prick of guilt when he counted the juveniles they had among them: with Maera, almost as many as the Sveijarn brood. If three had not disappeared, would they have had the resources to support the growing orphans they took in now?

The man ushered the guilt away and hardened himself against it. Instead he let his concerns flow to Adlartok and ran his gaze along the boy again, tracing the jutting bones that made the child's frame sharp and angular. "But that can wait for a bit. Are you hungry? I can show you to a cache nearby. The meat'll be frozen, but it'll give you some energy." In truth, Malachi had not checked the caches since he had returned, but he hoped they would not turn up empty - not for his sake, but for the child's.
Adlartok listened and nodded his head. He had not real drive at the moment for certain trades. So it was no hardship to go for the hunting trade. After all his uncle had taught him for the most part how to hunt and he had hunted largely while his uncle was injured. He shifted and nodded again, Fair trade to me. I'll hunt for the pack.

Artok felt a sense of relief at finally finding a place to stay. He would continue his search for his uncle, but he would always come home he imagined. I'd like that a lot thanks. He moved closer to allow the older male to show him to the cache. He'd eat and sleep a little and then he'd start hunting right after.
Last post from me - feel free to archive or put in a final one yourself (:

Malachi offered the boy a genuine smile, pleased to see his good sense. He knew some wolves would have refused his offer to rest, out of stubbornness or pride, and if he'd been in the same predicament, he'd have likely played the fool and skirted straight to work himself. The man gave a final nod. "Perfect. Then let's get you settled in." With a brisk flick of his tail, he beckoned young Adlartok to follow him further into the thicker area of the forest, toward the heart of Duskfire. Though their filling numbers meant more mouths to feed, they also meant more paws to help. There came a great safety with this thought and the man trusted he'd made no mistake in offering Adlartok a place among them.
Artok took one last look behind him, then taking a deep breath he strode forwards leaving his past behind him so to speak. He imagined he'd always look for his uncle, but he had left him alone. So therefore he needed to survive, make a life. He followed behind eyes taking in all around him.