Wolf RPG

Of all the territory he had covered time and time again, there was one place Malachi couldn't remember setting foot on for more than a minute, and that was Duskfire's very heart. It wasn't that he held no interest in the looming chunk of ice. For more times than he could count the Glacier had paused him to wonder at its sheer magnitude and its very existence so far from the raging sea. He had scoured round its edges, even set a defiant paw against its hulking form, only to retreat when he found his understanding lacking and its mere presence exuding an air too awesome for approach.

Having wandered up the hillier crest of the mountainside, Malachi found himself there again, overlooking the vast plain of crystalline ice as he'd done so many times before. The snaking river held the same draw, probing him to approach while at the same time forbidding him, and once again the man obliged, picking his way down to where the Glacier kissed the mountainside. Though he knew full how this would end, he drew near still until his body nearly brushed the ice river's untouchable edge.

This far into her stay, Manauia had successfully managed to avoid her new 'alpha' entirely. This pack was a rather quiet one but that suited her just fine. She hunted, she wandered, and she watched. Though it was a vain hope she looked to the southwest and the familiar figures of her sisters returning. As soon as they came she could be gone and they could continue their search. It was quickly becoming clear to her that Tyrr was not returning and she wondered what would have happened for him to revoke his pledge. It did not bode well, though she held hope. Perhaps he had returned home and this she could also. It was a lovely thought.

Today her luck would run out. As she strode across the uncomfortable surface of the ice that edged the pack's glacier, curiosity caused her to draw near to a figure who lurked a ways out on the icy terrain. It was a dangerous place, but she strode without fear. If she was to die here, at least she wouldn't have to return home in shame. She would prefer a death in combat however.

The form proved to be Malachi, and his strange focus was about the only thing that kept her from turning around right there. He seemed intent on the river, and she thought impartially that perhaps he had decided to finally give up his unrightful claim of power and give in to his weaker tendencies by seeking death. That would at least save her needing to keep up this godawful charade.

Musing on this with what was probably a completely inappropriate level of satisfaction, she did not approach or make any attempt to speak. Instead she merely watched.

Malachi did not notice Manauia's presence, and though he should have caught her scent on the air, his focus lay undivided on the Glacier and so he missed it entirely. Lost in his own world, the man pressed a paw against the icy crust, prodding as he'd done before and testing its solidity beneath his feet. The river did not budge (as if he'd expected otherwise) and he dropped to all fours only to place his paws against the ice a second later. He had seen many a frozen lake before, and had walked across them countless times. But Malachi didn't need an expert to tell him this was no frozen river.

Dropping to his paws again, he paced on spot, gaze still scanning across the snowy edge. It was at this point he usually turned away, heading back to the forested areas and leaving the Glacier for another day. But the man had let his curiosity simmer for far too long already, and his paws itched to move past the gentle greeting stage and onto unabashed exploration of the dangerous land before him. Ignoring the Glacier's fair warning, he loped across the barren ground and climbed the gradual incline of the mountainside until he stood level with the ice. With hesitation he placed a paw atop its hulking form and tested his weight against the surface, only to follow with a second paw when he heard no telltale signs of a break. Soon he stood with all fours upon the Glacier's crust and, at the tingle of rebellion in his paws, drummed the ground in silent victory before shifting his attention the rest of the icy expanse.

A sardonic smile lit her visage as she realized Malachi still had no idea she was present. He was engrossed, and the warrior in her scoffed at the inattention. One of the first lessons learned was to always pay attention to your back, for if eyes failed, other senses took over. If she were attempting silence she would not have reason to judge, but as it was, she felt it warranted. Being honest here, there was little she wouldn't judge him for.

Still she followed, her own attention trained on the ice beneath her feet as well as he. There was little fear for the glacier, a dangerous beast indeed but one that, if respected, she doubted would bite. A part of her still hoped the creature ahead of her did not hold such respect, but it was an offhand sort of hope. A niggling idea had begun to deep into her consciousness, though, and she would mull it over. Her prince, if he returned, would still need to be convinced to leave. And she had a very good idea of how to do that should she be able to pull it off.

Watching Malachi do an odd little dance, she shook her head at his strangeness. Stopping a short distance away, she remained on the icy edge, her narrowed eyes on him as he observed the ice. Would he set out to cross it, or remain safely adhered to the edge?

Standing atop the Glacier now, paws planted upon the plain of ice he'd studied time and time before, the temptation to cross was unbearable. Malachi danced his gaze from segment to segment, analyzing each in turn. Every fresh look brought a new tremor to his paws, and if not for the obvious danger of this new land, he'd have darted across long ago.

But instead he took another step forward, but no further, testing the solidity beneath his feet as he had done before. Solid, and unyielding to his weight. Perfect, by any account. In greater confidence the man shifted, and prepared to take another step. But as he planted his paw on the ice before him, he felt the prickling sensation of another's watch and he turned, eyes narrow against the line of pines and ears alert for signs of approach. The air was stale that day, but he didn't need the help of gales to pick out the earthen form of his observer from among the deeper greens of the forest flanking his back. A wolf of Duskfire - Manauia - standing close enough to suggest she'd been watching him for a while.

Malachi blinked, his posture neither welcoming nor refusing her company, but rather stuck in a momentary state of fleeting chagrin. How long had she been standing there, and how had he not noticed her before? A ripple of heat burned his cheeks, and he tried to cover up his senseless inattentiveness by slacking his shoulders and waving his tail in a casual hello, despite the discomforting gaze she held him in.

He had the grace to look contrite when he finally noticed her presence, though she did not shift her own expression to accommodate his greeting. She was rather thinking she should have departed before he had noticed. She still considered leaving without a word, but instead she approached, offering no friendly greeting but no malice either.

"What is it about the ice that captivates you?" She asked, looking across the field. Obviously he saw some appeal that she did not to be so enthralled that he would blindly miss one so close as she. Stupid she may think him, but surely he had survived this long. He couldn't be that thick.

She approached with something akin to apathy, and a question of curiosity, yet when he turned his eyes upon Manauia, he did not sense from her the wonder that he felt. So Malachi shifted his gaze to contemplate the Glacier again. He supposed the ice didn't look like much. In its base form, it was, after all, solid water and packed down snow. But there was something about it that enthralled the man in ways he couldn't explain, and it was this marvel he tried to put into words for her. "It's powerful," he finally settled, sweeping his eyes across the vast landscape before adding, "It's something to discover."

Because in truth, the sheer novelty of the Glacier was what drew him near. His duties were a necessity, and he patrolled the borders because that was what others expected him to do. But after seeing every tree and rock that lay in the jagged path marking their claim, Malachi yearned for something more. Still he voiced this desire to no one, and did not speak of it to Manauia now. His packmates didn't need a leader who wished to wander. They needed someone who dedicated their whole heart to protecting the land they'd claimed and watching over the wolves within it. And Malachi felt his heart in half of this, but for as long as he led, he would pretend to love both, for that was what was expected of a leader, and that was what he would have to do.

"Hmm". The noncommittal sound was all she uttered for a time, then silence. She supposed he was correct, it was something to discover. Something unfamiliar and powerful, dangerous and maybe even exciting to some. She did not share a naturalist's wonder at the beauty of the world, her own eyes so colored by the preference for her homelands. To her it was not the land, but who dwelt within and the loyalty that bound her there. Here she felt no ties, no matter what words she may have given Malachi. She would live by them, yes, but they did not dwell within her heart.

"Will you discover it?" She finally asked, turning from the ice to gaze at him once more.

A silence passed between them before Manauia spoke again, and Malachi felt her gaze turn upon him with the fresh inquiry she proposed. She voiced the same question he held unspoken, one yet to be answered though begging to be heard with a pleading wail. The dangers were ever clear before him: the broken cover of the Glacier was enough to ward him off. But the more he looked at the hulking field of ice, the more he was able to convince himself he could brave her without taking harm. Was it foolish to put his life in danger to quench such a flippant thirst to explore? Sure it was - but the possibility of what he could discover was a temptation he couldn't resist.

"I would like to try." He gave in response. Yet the man remained frozen on the cusp of a forward lean, body alert and paws frustrated at their lack of forward motion. For now common sense held him back, and his responsibility to the pack preserved him. That, and the scrutinizing eyes of his packmate made him question if the time was right. As much as it frustrated him, he had an image to preserve, and under Manauia's watchful gaze he reluctantly chose to err on the side of caution. For now.

He said he would like to try, yet he made no move forward, and instead chose to turn away. Though she might have snorted derisively at his actions, she refrained; it wasn't worth the conflict right now.

"But you do not. Interesting choice." It was all she would say on the matter, and as was her way, she turned to go, departing without a goodbye. Obviously she was not going to get to watch him kill himself on the ice and she had grown weary of observing him under those particular circumstances. It was time to find something else to amuse herself with. She wasn't a creature who could stand the company of the same others for long, not unless they were of her own kin.