Wolf RPG

Something unspoken of called him out well before dawn. It had called him out in the middle of the night and had sent him at a pace that he did not normally use for travel. It was a sense of restless so captivating that it was a nuisance and it had not been readily comforted by a patrol of the Plateau's inner most border. Not even along the outskirts from the depths of its claim had quelled the sense that he needed to move. It was not an anxiousness that prompted him; whatever it was, Mordecai could not place a word to its being.

And so, he had ventured out.

Beneath the pre-dawn glow, he had stolen away through the niches and nooks of the overgrown forest. Where he was, it may as well have been beneath the very nose and claim of the wolves on Silvertip Mountain, but he felt as though he would not trouble them. If anything, the restlessness that had come upon him was waning as the familiarity of routes came back to him. He knew this trail, knew the ridges and pockmarked dips from pure memory. It was the road towards the Spine and abruptly, he found himself veering off of it as recollection jogged his mind.

Along the scant banks of a near overflowing brook was when everything came to a sudden head. The reason for his scurrying, the reason for the tachycardic pathing to there hit him — unexpectedly, Mordecai heaved and expelled the contents of an undigested meal into the brush. Another bout of it followed, though this time he quelled the sensation to continue its arrival. And then all at once, whatever had possessed him and left him to roam most of the overnight was gone. He found it a bizarre occurrence as to why he had ventured so far, why he felt so driven to put space between himself and what he had acquainted as a place of lodging. With a shake of his head as he turned towards the water, the Ostrega left it unexplained.

If he had come out this far, it wouldn't have been a stretch to waste the oncoming day and venture towards the Bay. He hadn't seen Verrine in what seemed like ages and more importantly, with the nearing of spring he found himself recalling that he had decided to visit him again. To visit his children, more importantly. But for now, that would have to be on hold — a drink was at hand. What little he realized however, was just how far off his mark truly was. The brook was nothing more than a tributary of the river and in reality, Mordecai had lost himself along the fringes of the flatlands and the wilderness.

As the cold water soothed whatever fire remained within, Mordecai heard a voice call out to him in the moments that passed afterward. His ears swiveled atop his head long before he pulled his muzzle away from the crisp stream, and shortly afterward he spied out the motley mess of earthy colors approaching him. A wolf none too dissimilar to him, though younger and perhaps even a tad more unkempt.

Mordecai did not call back to him as he approached, but rather dipped his head in a silent greeting. It provided him with the opportunity to ascertain what he could about the male. The results were largely inconclusive; he smelled of the snow melt and damp earth, a creature loose of any territorial claim. A dispersal, more than likely.

"Mornin'," he returned when the younger counterpart had come closer. "Nice time for a run, isn't it?"

He watched as the eyes of the other roamed over him, giving him some routine inspection to see whether or not he was fit or a wandering invalid. Mordecai allowed this at some length, though when it came coupled with the words of the dispersal he only found intrigue left to linger midst the range of emotions. To come for him? That could have meant any number of things, netting any number of responses.

"Oh?" He supplied only one word that doubled for many. The head of which was the question of why, but it served better a prompt for the youth to continue on. If it was his interest to be baited, the move was a high success. He had Mordecai's attention and all there was between them was a budding situation that was bound to go any way it desired.

With Mordecai halfway fooled by his champagne eyes, that unknowingly were the same of the man's own brother Dhani, the disheveled Ostrega smirked inwardly, his mind already elaborating the next response he would attempt to shove down the unsuspecting stranger's throat. 
When it came to lies, Ciervo was an experienced contestant.
He could play it nice or he could play it rough, but either way, he was the hungry type.
Hungry for information and for penchant.

So with his eyes trained on him and the tip of his tail twitching in a snake-like manner, the voracious trickster allowed his gullible victim to take the bait. At his surprise, Ciervo displayed nothing but confidence in his previous words. It was him who he had been looking for, he had to believe it, and so did Ciervo.
And though most of the male's thoughts had rational bases, in these cases, all reason was thrown out the window and replaced with malice instead -- something that came almost as naturally to the Ostrega as his skepticism.

"Yes, I was sent by the Alpha -- of the mountain pack" he barked suddenly with an affirmative nod, his mouth quickly adding the last bit to sound more convincing. In a place as big as the Teekon Wilds, the chances of a pack actually dwelling in a mountain were very optimistic for Ciervo's lie.
Now, he only had to hope the man knew one of these possible packs -- and more importantly, thought it possible for the leader of one of these packs to hold interest in him.

Skepticism was more than definitely something that had begun to mount an assault for Mordecai. He found himself growing leery of the lashing of this stranger's tail and more importantly that he was supposed to find Mordecai to begin with. This may have displayed itself from the moment his original question had left his mouth and if nothing else, he could have sworn by a spark in that younger wolf's eyes that something was afoot. Yet genuine interest kept him from teetering into that perception entirely and thusly, it was waved away for another moment.

"Which mountain pack? There's several," and more importantly, why were they wanting him? He doubted that this wolf came from the Spine — he would have recognized Cara's scent on him. With discretion, Mordecai tested the air around them again only to find that there wasn't much of anything. Perhaps a smattering of where he had been, but nothing that screamed out that he belonged anywhere at all.

And lastly, he prompted the younger counterpart again: "And why?"

If this was really some pack's messenger, they needed a better one.

Skepticism was fine.
Ciervo liked a challenge, so it was no rarity that when the older wolf continued to pop questions and squint his eyes in that signature doubtful look that he knew so well, the golden eyed joker only felt the urge to keep the lie alive burning hotter. Quickly, the man searched his mind for an answer, trying to stick to the vagueness of his previous responses but wanting to bring the male a greater sense of confidence. "...Have you forgotten us so quick?" he quipped with a quick lash of his tongue over his nose, hoping that the slightly accusing tone of his remark would 'refresh his memory'. 

"Maybe, Mordecai, you should pay a visit" he barked, his cold eyes of fizzling champagne settling straight into his uncle's eyes, unwavering and emotionless. "I have a feeling speaking to you will be of no use.." he added then, falling straight under the 'lame messanger' label that Mordecai had silently placed him under. There was little else he could say to fool the man without risking being uncovered, so this time, leaving the uncertainty -- and in a best case scenario making the male waste his time on a trip -- would have to do.

"Take care" he sputtered at last whilst turning around to give their encounter an unceremonious ending, issuing nothing but a slow tip of his head to the male he unknowingly shared his blood with before trotting off to find another source of entretainment.

Of course, he also took into consideration that while this wolf may not have directly smelled of the Spine, he may have come from there.  It was the words uttered by him in the next instance that caused the older Ostrega to rethink his position, leaving his eyes to narrow at the accusations that came boldly from the youth's mouth.  Forgotten them?  Hardly; he remembered the details of the Spine much clearer than he wished.

Silently, he set his jaw as the other prattled on.  He could have easily been one of Cara's on mannerisms alone even in spite of how she had been towards him in their previous meeting.  But this he would choose on to dwell on, instead curtly cut off from a response as he watched a flurry of motion turn that wolf away with haste.  Bewildered, Mordecai lingered for moments more caught between taking action to pursue him and simply let it go.  He took the time to weigh those options well before ultimately deciding that it was easier to let it go.  What was done was done; there were no intentions for him to make a return to the Spine.  There would be no paid visits.

And he moved on as well following that decision, none the wiser of who he had encountered.