Once upon a time, long before Poet's time, there had been two wolves at odds: Bronx DeMonte, her long-dead grandfather, and Sphinx Endore, the equally long-dead founder of Winterheart Forest. It would once have seemed preposterous for the granddaughter of Bronx to meet with and pledge herself to the granddaughter of Sphinx... But whatever the conflict had been, it was lost to time now, and there was something sweetly ironic hidden there about Poet's decision to investigate Neverwinter Forest further. So, with little to no knowledge of her family's former ties to the Alpha of the land, Poet stood several hundred yards from Neverwinter's border, where the smell of fellow wolves was strong.
She had yet to do much coming into herself. She was three, but at times still felt like she was one, safely in the comfort of her home amongst her siblings, new and old. The doubts that plagued her on the road as she shied away from pack after pack had not been present in Lilac Valley — not the original Lilac Valley, but the secondary one, found by her parents following the Nova Mountain eruption, if what she'd been told growing up was to be believed — but they were here now, gnawing at her stomach as she hesitantly shifted her weight back and forth.
She was stalling, but it was in her best interest. Poet was a good weather-watcher, but she certainly wasn't no wonder-wolf for hunting. She could provide for herself, but not indefinitely, not with prey becoming scarce as the nights grew colder. Yet every time she went to howl for an audience, the muscles in her gut knotted so tightly she felt she could scarcely breathe. It took almost thirty minutes before she managed to get a short, clipped howl out, and even then the aftermath of it made her plump jowls quiver with anxiety.
Poet III was a strong wolf, at least in spirit, with an unquenchable loyalty and a level-headed view of things... But not when she thought of Berlioz, and how he had allegedly died in defence of his pack, wolves she still naively believed had done nothing for him to save him from his fate. Not when she was preparing herself to place her fate in the hands of non-family, of somebody that had no reason to care whether she lived or died. In this situation, she was a coward, but she steeled herself; the worst that could happen was that she declined with faux politeness and fled once again.
With the run-in with wolves of a local pack still fresh on his mind, Viinturuth spent much of his time on the outskirts of Neverwinter Forest. Numbers within their ranks were low and the borders vast, so he knew no one was at fault for the stubborn Plateau female's trespass, but it was important to him to increase the hours in which he spent keeping an eye open for trouble-makers and better scenting the invisible line which separated them from neutral territory.
Thankfully, all seemed rather quiet. He slowed at several trees to rub his frame across the frosted bark or cock a hind limb to urinate and leave behind a fresh mark. When what he assumed was a loner rose her voice to announce her presence a short distance away, Viin picked uphis pace and hurried to investigate.
When he arrived he found a dark-furred wolfess, appearing rather anxious as she lingered on Neverwinter outskirts. Viinturuth's tail arched proudly over his hindquarters and his ears pricked forward, pale gold eyes fixed to the face of the stranger as he eased to a halt several feet before her. "This is Neverwinter Forest," the dark Frostfur told her boldly, sniffing the air to be sure that this wolf was not of the ignorant Blacktail Deer Plateau pack. Satisfied that she wasn't and glad that she was intelligent enough not to stray to close, Viin felt his muscles slacked somewhat. "I am Viinturuth. Do you seek audience with our Alpha?"
His usual task was rounding the borders – the meticulous duty soothed him in a way and kept his paws moving, and so it was not unusual for the cinnamon agouti male to be prowling throughout the trees, no matter the time of day. Neverwinter Forest had begun with himself and Luka as the first members within its ranks, and already he could scent others among the lands. He had yet to meet many, but that would come in time. What truly worried him was that he had not seen Luka since they had been accepted within their new home.
A short and clipped howl cut his thoughts. Pausing, the earthy male waited to see if the cry would rise again, having been so fleeting that he might have imagined it. With a grunt, Scimitar began to round in the direction of their visitor, his pace quickening and as his cream paws sunk within the depths of the snow that had managed to filter in through the tree branches.
It took him a bit, but when the swarthy female came to view, the Kappa could at least appreciate that she remained an appropriate distance from the pack borders. Another was already there – the male who had also been protecting the borders the day the ignorant Alpha of another pack had to brazenly trespassed in their lands. Uttering a low ‘woof’ of greeting, the male lifted himself in dominance – he was not the Alpha of these lands but he did call them home, and he did hold rank over the other present.
Closing the distance between them, the only greeting the male gave her was a quiet and brief nod of his muzzle, his aqua eyes regarding her solemnly as he awaited for her to explain why she had summoned the wolves of Neverwinter Forest, just as his companion had questioned.
OOC: Thanks for joining! I decided to tweak Poet's personality quite a bit buuuut it shouldn't affect this!
IC: As she stood there, nerves fluttered through her stomach like butterflies, she began to second guess herself. Poet couldn't do this; she couldn't face strangers and try to tell them who she was and why she was worth their time, not when the sight of someone unfamiliar sent her straight into flight-or-fight mode. She was too shy to do this! Even as she stood there, fidgeting on her toes, her inner voice was screaming, RUN, RUN AWAY!
Maybe if she just turned around really quickly and snuck away before anyone got there... Yes! The girl turned quickly on her heel, feeling relief squeeze through her veins. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she began to beat what she considered a hasty retreat, as she had with any other pack she'd come across.
One step, two step, three step, fo—
Oh crap oh crap oh crap, chanted her inner voice as from the very edge of her vision emerged a wolf of jet black fur. She froze in the spot. From that angle, she couldn't spot the silver ticking on his shoulders, but Poet was focused mostly on the nervousness and fear that wound through her stomach. She couldn't run now, not without seeming totally crazy, but maybe that was excusable... But wait. A quiet rumble in her stomach reminded her why she should care about whether he thought she was crazy or not.
"You, uh... You missed it... There... Th-there was a jackalope." Wait, what? Her ears pushed back against her head, their tips practically raking her neck as she internally berated herself for saying something so stupidly false, but before she could backpedal and somehow recover the situation (flustered as she was, it would be a wonder if she could speak again at all), another wolf showed itself, this one bearing a coat of agouti that was considered highly exotic by Poet, who had seen nothing but black and silver wolves all her life.
This wolf wore a prouder stance, and she found herself weak in the knees, with her side turned to them and her eyes still staring widely off into the trees rather than directly at them. As if to catch herself, she slumped heavily onto her hocks, with her hind legs splayed somewhat awkwardly to the side (she could have made a pretty side saddle rider, if she wasn't a wolf), and tried to catch hold of her rapidly beating heart.
Don't panic don't panic don't panic don't panic DON'T P—
Viinturuth asked a question, but it was too late.
"P-please don't hurt me, I didn't mean to lie!" she suddenly wailed, her nervousness finally bursting over the dam in her chest and spilling out into hysterics. There couldn't have been anything more pathetic, truly; but Poet was a strong wolf, just not one that handled strangers very well. Or rather, meeting strangers. She could fight a stranger as well as any wolf, only... They couldn't speak to her while she fought, or she'd lose her nerve.
So sorry this took a few days to get up, work has kicked my ass recently. D:
A jackalope? "Uhm..." Viinturuth furrowed his brow then, wondering what on earth this mad female was stammering about. What in the heck was a jackalope? He simply blinked in her direction, wondering if perhaps he imagined what she'd said and was beginning to lose his own mind, but the arrival of Scimitar confirmed that he was still sane. Before them, the dark-furred wolfess seemed to be on the edge of hyperventilation as she struggled to keep from panicking, and Viin pulled himself together once more to observe with quiet amusement.
The stranger's hind limbs gave way and with her seated awkwardly on the ground, Viin cleared his throat and pursed his lips in attempt to keep himself from grinning. He'd been nervous himself on seeking to join Neverwinter (assuming that was why this wanderer had come), but this performance was something else entirely. Making to exchange a puzzled glance with his tawny pack-mate, Viinturuth turned once more to the obsidian wolfess just as she exploded into hysterics and pleaded that she be spared. Unsure how to approach the situation he'd found himself in, he simply gazed on in confusion and considered what to say.
He wasn’t entirely sure what conversation he walked in on – he had heard her speak something, but had not been upon the two in time to catch her statement. His swarthy companion seemed confused as well, and while the Lambda waited in silence for the she-wolf to explain her reasons for being upon their borders, he could see the confused glance in which Viinturuth cast him. It wasn’t until panic devoured her did his ears go back and the agouti male took a pace back, his aqua eyes widening in alarm before glancing to back Viinturuth.
“No one will hurt you unless you give us reason to,” he rumbled, a slow scowl beginning to form upon his dark agouti features. A small chuff of annoyance escaped him then as a stern gaze was cast upon the darker female, his own figure lifting in the quiet demand of respect and submission. He wasn’t sure who she was or what she wanted, but this was certainly not the situation he had foreseen when he had come upon them.
Tacking a fadey post here so I can archive it.
Scimitar did not seem certain on how to handle their newest potential recruit either, and so Viin regarded his pack-mate with confusion as he took a swift step back. Not surprisingly, the hysterical girl did not seem to offer any response to what the agouti brute said, which left the dark Frostfur feeling increasingly irritated.
What use would she be to Neverwinter Forest if she couldn't string a sentence together? Too intimidated by two peaceable wolves who soight merely to greet her a the borders, it was unlikely that she'd make progress. Unimpressed and unsure, Viinturuth canted his muzzle skyward and sent forth a request for the pale Alphess to alert her to their location and ask of her presence.
Waiting for Chakra to arrive, Viin lingered in the background to watch the situation before him unfold.