Wolf RPG

She had been home— home!— for nearly two weeks, now, but Magpie had kept to the outskirts. Fox had made it clear she was welcome, a full-fledged member of Redhawk, Peregrine be damned... but the yearling had yet to be convinced. Her initial arrival had been so unintentionally dramatic, she couldn't help but feel like it was only her sister that truly wanted her to be here. Magpie was certain that she wasn't helping her case by sulking about, participating from afar— but she assumed Peregrine and Fox were busy preparing for the arrival of their children, and she didn't want to get in the way or overstep her bounds.

This morning, though, she awoke with a confidence. Peregrine might not think much of her, but Fox was her sister, and the pups she carried were Magpie's nieces and nephews. Although the Corvidae were more forgiving when it came to their members nomadic habits, her mother had made it clear that there was nothing more important than family. And Magpie was determined to be an involved aunt, to be there for her sister's children no matter what— to be a role model and guiding figure in their lives, especially when they eventually fought with their parents and felt they had nowhere else to turn.

So, before this wave of determination and confidence left her, Magpie made her way to the heart of the caldera in search of the patriarch— when he was not immediately present, Magpie swallowed hard against her nerves, then threw back her head to request @Peregrine 's presence with a short howl. She made sure to convey that it was no emergency; that if he had more pressing concerns to tend to, which seemed likely, she would seek him out another time. Part of her hoped that would be the case, but she knew she would need to face him sooner or later.

Peregrine was right in the middle of pissing on a tree when Magpie's voice rose into the frosty air, requesting his presence. The Alpha male's eyes narrowed, as at first he couldn't place the voice. Then his expression became stony when he realized it was her. He hadn't thought of Magpie in a week or so and much of his anger over the situation had ebbed. Yet she had yet to do anything to redeem herself in his eyes, so hearing her call out to him caused old feelings of resentment to wriggle up from the deeps.

He finished emptying his bladder, then placed all four feet on the snowy ground and stood there a moment. Shouldn't she come find him, he thought sourly. Nonetheless, his broad paws began to move, carrying him in the direction of the Zeta's voice. He wondered what she could possibly want with him. His tail flicked with every step and his ears began to fall back, so that by the time he found Magpie, they were pinned backward, lending him a very unfriendly, closed off air.

Peregrine stopped but didn't say anything. He took a breath and stared at her, his curiosity and impatience both apparent. He slowly licked his lips, his mouth remaining in a straight line, the corners drooping slightly downward as if in consternation.

After her cry had ebbed, Magpie had indeed continued to move in search of the patriarch— though not very far, just in case Peregrine did respond, and then be unable to find her. She was sure that was an impression she didn't want to further leave him with. Her ears pricked and she paused as the sound of footfalls began to near, and when Magpie saw him, her posture shrank and she looked away shamefully, ears then going back. He said nothing— not that she expected him to— and she found herself suddenly fumbling for the confidence and words that had come so easily mere moments before.

"Sorry," she finally said, lamely, though it was not without emphatic sincerity. "I know you're busy with— everything. I didn't want to interrupt, but..." Magpie sighed inwardly, daring a glance at him, "We have shit to figure out, don't we?"

Magpie shrank from him, though this did not soften Peregrine's demeanor whatsoever. Her words did not seem to have any effect either. If anything, his expression hardened, his eyes becoming flinty. He shifted his weight, clenched his jaw a moment, then parted his lips to speak.

"'We'? No, there is no 'we,'" Peregrine replied. He wasn't going to make this easy for her, not after disappointing him and then (however unwittingly, however temporarily) driving a wedge between him and Fox. "You have a fuckload of 'making it up to Perry' to do, though," he added bluntly.

She felt suddenly exhausted— deflated. It was as if her anxiety had grown so intense that it might kill her, then popped into nothingness. She didn't die of it, nor did the world come crashing to an end; there was simply nothing where it used to be. Magpie couldn't remember what she had expected. Peregrine hadn't cared when she nearly pissed herself in submission on his borders, didn't care for the meal she had brought— a kill she had made herself, because he had taught her. And he had turned his back.

It was a good sign, then, that he had even answered her call— he still spewed vitriol, still made her feel less than a rabbit's turd... but he had answered. That meant he was ready to talk, right? She stilled her mind when it came too close to the thought that he might forgive her; it was too much to hope for, though she couldn't understand the depth of his hatred. Magpie had left, true, but she had returned with the intention of apology and nothing more— the events that had led to her standing here seemed oddly outside of her control, like she was a plastic bag floating in the wind (thx katy perry).

With the release of her anxiety, and the sudden flow of these revelations, Magpie felt her confidence slowly return. She had made a mistake, but she had come to right it: and she had done nothing wrong in doing so. Whatever had caused Peregrine to hold a grudge that rivaled her own— they weren't so different— she abruptly suspected it had nothing to do with her.

Right, she thought with some annoyance, straightening slightly, We don't have to figure shit out. He does.

Still, when she spoke, it was as level as she could muster— the slight shakiness likely attributed to flagging nerve. "We all know I fucked up by leaving without telling you," she began after a deep breath, "and when I came back, it was only to apologize. Even after Fox invited me in, I thought it would just be to talk and that you'd never have to see me again." There was an unspoken but in the air, as she paused to gather the rest of her words. "She's family— you're family. That changed things. I'd offer to leave, 'cause I'd rather not stick around a place that doesn't want me. I'm not going to, though, because whether you like it or not, I'm going to be an aunt. It'd be pretty fucked up for me to leave now." She thought better of adding, "when you and Fox need all the support you can get."

She swallowed hard and winced as the anxiety came roiling back— but Peregrine wouldn't dare kill his mate's sister, would he? "So, I want to know whatthehellIhavetodotoregainyourapproval," Magpie rushed out, hopefully before he had time to tear out her throat.

He listened silently, until she tried to insist they were family. Peregrine growled sharply in response, letting her know that he didn't feel the same way toward her. He didn't say a word, though he growled again—even more sharply, if that was possible—when she referred to herself as his children's aunt. He bared his teeth at her audacity: "Whether you like it or not!"

"Just because Fox is your sister does not make you my family. You aren't and it changes nothing. And you should know that I don't consider you their aunt," he snapped at her. He couldn't change Fox's stance on the matter but he was happy to put Magpie in her place as far as he went. Are we clear? his icy glare seemed to ask.

"Standing here and telling me I don't have a choice about things because of your relationship to Fox is not how to get my approval," he rumbled at her next. "If you want to step up and redeem yourself, don't do it because you're after my goddamn approval. Do it because you genuinely want to make things right. Do it to show that you care about us—not just my fucking opinion of you—and our pack, including the pups. Your words are meaningless without action to back them up."

He knew he was being a dick callous but Peregrine didn't give a damn. She'd committed the ultimate crime against him and there was still the risk that she would do it again. But he'd done what Magpie had wanted: he'd talked to her, told her how she could at least try to redeem herself. Maybe if she actually went and did something about it instead of standing here making useless apologies and excuses, she could prove to both of them that it was possible to earn Peregrine Redleaf-DiSarinno's forgiveness after all.

He was growling in response to her words, but though she winced each time, Magpie continued to speak what she believed was the truth. Peregrine was at least listening, even if he disagreed, which was a step above just running off and ignoring her. His words hurt— she would be their aunt, by blood and by the relationship they forged, and although he was refusing to admit it, Peregrine couldn't change that. It occurred to her that her elder— her brother-in-law was being incredibly selfish. She didn't remember that about him, but then they had never been as close as she and Fox were.

Jaw tightening, she told him passionately, "I do want to make things right. That's all that I was ever trying to do. That's why I came back and why I'm staying." Perhaps he realized that and felt that she simply hadn't done enough, but considering this was the first actual conversation they had since she returned, it felt like he was failing to acknowledge any of that. "And I do care about the pack, but you're my Alpha— of course I'm going to care about your approval more than anyone else's." Magpie finished arguing the only points she felt might be productive, but she suddenly wondered if it was worth all this energy.

She could tell Fox that things weren't working out in the caldera, then run away with Summer— then, when they were of age, they could have their own pups and lead their own pack.

As appealing as it was, and as much as part of her wanted that, her promise to Fox was her compass. Magpie was determined to be involved in the lives of her nieces and nephews, to remain loyal to her family, regardless of how dysfunctional it currently was. She had a home amongst the Corvidae— they were family, too— but she felt an attachment to this place that she couldn't describe. The Wilds had forged her more than the Corvidae ever had.

After a beat, she continued more calmly, but with no less conviction: "I'm pursuing the outrider and naturalist trades, because I know I'll be good at them. But I'm not sure about a third, so I wanted to ask you if there are any the Caldera is in need of— especially with the pups coming. I know you and Fox will be busier when they're born." This was the heart of why she had called him in the first place, but she had mistakenly thought it would be better received if they cleared the air, first.

Peregrine turned his face away from her, to indicate that he wasn't listening. Hadn't he just said she needed to walk the walk, not talk the talk? He wanted to yell at her to quit her yapping, yet he felt that turning the other cheek might send a stronger message.

Only when she mentioned trades did he return his flinty gaze to her face. "I thought you wanted to be a Gamekeeper," he said, angry disappointment thick in his voice. As if it wasn't insulting enough that he'd saved her life and given her a home only for her to run out on him without a word, she had evidently wasted his time when they'd trained together. It bothered him more because it actually hurt his feelings as much as anything else.

"I have no use for Outriders," he practically barked. He felt bad because he knew Finley loved her job but, truthfully, the Alpha just didn't see much value in it. "We need Gamekeepers, Caretakers, Healers..." He said nothing specifically about Naturalists, as he didn't even know enough to make a judgment call one way or the other.

Magpie was yet young and naive, and though she did understand he wanted more from her, she was failing to communicate that she didn't know what that more was. She finished her defense, even as he turned away to visibly ignore her, and for a brief moment she considered biting his tail— so great was her aggravation and frustration— but that was likely to get her killed. It was then that her tactics changed, and she finally got to the point of her summons.

Even then, Peregrine exploded. Is there nothing I can fucking do right in your eyes? she wondered angrily, electric gaze focused on his shoulder and fighting tears that threatened to overflow. Every fiber of Magpie's being wanted to run, now, but she fought against it— that would most definitely make things worse, though she wasn't sure if there was anything she could do to make things better.

His insistence that she had wanted to be Gamekeeper startled her, though, and she looked up at him with surprise. She remembered their time training fondly, even though it felt like a lifetime ago that they had actually been friends, but she couldn't remember ever explicitly talking about the trade as a goal. She had only thought she was training to hunt like any other youth. "Gamekeeper, then," she finally said, voice finally soft and without bite. "I didn't realize that's what you wanted me to be, but I liked your mentorship. I miss it." Her last sentence was spoken a bit wistfully— could they ever get back to that? As for his incredulity towards her desire to be outrider, she said nothing. Travel was in her blood, and if Peregrine wanted her to stay tied to this place, the least he could do was allow her some semblance of independence.

"Do you and Fox have a favorite?" she asked, only wondering if that was a silly question after it had already fallen. Did they like fish? Deer? Goose?

Magpie finally did something that triggered his approval, though Peregrine was not about to let it show. Without batting an eyelash, she declared that she would pursue the Gamekeeper trade. The Alpha said nothing, only acknowledging her words with a twitch of his tail. For now, he did not offer to mentor her again. That would likely come, in time, if for no other reason than because Peregrine liked to have a hand in his hunters' training. He wasn't at at that point yet, however.

She asked whether he and Fox had a favorite and he met this question with a blank and uncomprehending stare. A favorite what...?

He said and did nothing, even failing to answer her question— she did think about just turning and leaving, then, but Peregrine would have done so if he considered this encounter over. Magpie figured the best way to allow some of his ire to fade was to keep their conversations on his terms; from now on, he'd choose when they started and when they ended. She looked sullenly at her toes, then, unsure of what to do, until she realized she had forgotten an important part of her question. Tips of her ears burning— way to look like a moron while fighting to be worthy, Magpie— she clarified, "Er.. a favorite type of meat? What should I bring you while you're tending to the pups...?"

Way to open yourself up to an impossible challenge, kid. But she didn't quite realize what she was potentially offering, and instead waited eagerly for his answer— finally feeling like there was something she could do to stop the madness.

He blinked slowly when an elaboration wasn't forthcoming, though Magpie fairly quickly realized what he wanted and explained that she was after their meat preferences, of all things. Did he even have a favorite? Did Fox? The Alpha didn't know and found the question ludicrous... and, dare I say, the tiniest bit amusing as well.

"Meat is meat," he replied simply. "We'll take anything." Yes, he could have been a total dick about it, requesting foie gras, filet mignon and some Kobe beef—and those were just the appetizers! But when it came to his wife and pups, Peregrine didn't mess around (much). "All of it will go directly to Fox," he added, which was 95% fact, 5% intended slight (as in, he would refuse to touch anything she brought).

She nodded simply in response, though she was internally pouring over what would be the most impressive choice— for the moment, not considering that some choices were like to get her killed. Fish would be too lame, and even deer were too easy... after all, Peregrine hadn't accepted it when she first presented it to him. Magpie thought about pointing that out— clearly meat wasn't just meat to him— but he continued to say that all meat would go to Fox. Perhaps that had been why.

Magpie didn't quite pick up on the slight— it made sense that Fox would need most of it, and perhaps the remaining bit was that Peregrine wanted to hold on to his pride— but if she had, she wouldn't take the bait. He was clearly choosing to be petty about this entire situation, and the yearling wasn't about to let him define her worth. She was going to force him to acknowledge the worth that already existed.

She remained in silence, feeling like there was nothing left for her to say, but remained until he either left or dismissed her.

He stared hard at her face, waiting to see what she would make of his words. Magpie said nothing, though he could see her lime green eyes glaze in thought. Well, he'd definitely given her food for thought (is that a pun?) and Peregrine had little else to say. Whether or not either one of them realized it, he was giving her a real chance to turn things around. Now she would just have to prove—not just to him but to herself and the rest of the pack—that she had what it takes.

"I have other things to piss on," were his words of parting. Again, it was a veiled insult, though the truth of the matter was that Peregrine had some patrolling and marking to do. With pups on the horizon, he wanted to veritably drench their borders to deter trespassers. Had it been any other wolf, he might have asked Magpie to tag along... but, again, he was nowhere near ready to pal around with her, so he simply took his leave.

That insult she caught, and she took a calculated risk in baring her teeth at his retreating back— dick!— and her thoughtful mood returned to one of irritation. Hunting, at least, was a good way to release aggression, and Magpie now had it in abundance. She remained unconvinced that Peregrine was even worth all the trouble... but Fox was. Her nieces and nephews would be. No longer in the mood to be social, she abandoned her second plan of the day— getting to know some of her pack mates— and instead retreated to the edge of the territory to begin the exodus of her frustrations.