Wolf RPG

They were so few now.  Despite his injuries, Dante still walked patrols on the edges of the territory, mostly because there weren't many to do so.  He was moseying next to the mountain border currently, and had paused to gaze into the trees that rose up the incline.  Though he was alert for movement that was out of the ordinary, his thoughts were a thousand miles away.

He was a little worried that the drastic decline in membership was a reflection on himself.  He hadn't been great at checking in and getting to know them, and now they were leaving as soon as they came.  He couldn't shake the feeling that he should be making more of an effort.

Sighing, he sat, lifting his foreleg to clean the scab that was beginning to form.  His ears tipped back to catch sounds behind, alerting him if anyone should approach.

He had carried himself over so many mountains while fleeing the Teekon Wilds that he had failed to recognize this range as the one he'd sworn to leave to the dust. As fate would have it, his paws had carried him back, but for the aim of returning to his kin in the Blackwood Vale. Though the sundry man stopped himself from thinking of Duskfire, the fact he was a coward was not lost on him. If his life accounted for anything, it was to play the poster-child of a fool. He hadn't found his way in the world, and the only thing that moved him now was that his father might have the mercy to take him back.

The scent of pack swelled around him, but Malachi knew he was still on neutral ground. In prudence he kept enough distance between himself and the land where the markers lay, though he knew there was nothing a pack could do to him that he didn't already deserve, regardless of his acts toward them. The sharp incline of the mountainside came into greater clarity, and Malachi took brief note of another wolf - large and stony grey - staring in the same direction as he. Malachi didn't hesitate, as he would have once done. Tired eyes turned from his company back to the mountain and Malachi remained on course, sticking to his land and assuming the pack wolf would do the same. It was the mountain the loner was interested in, and though his paws occasionally dragged in a firm plea to rest, Malachi would not let himself stop until he had crossed.

Dante's eyes tracked the strange wolf as he passed, watching for a moment but unthreatened. It was clear that the other wolf had no intentions to approach, and initially the alpha was tempted to allow him to pass without interruption. After all, it could be that his reasons for being there were entirely separate from the plateau. But, it could also be that they were not. And Dante wasn't quite sure that was a chance he should be taking.

Feeling it couldn't hurt to at least greet him, the alpha got to his paws and took a few strides over the border. "Hello." The greeting was given without an edge, for he had no reason to be unfriendly towards a wolf who so politely avoided their lands. He would see if this wolf would pause, or if he would simply continue on. Dante did not want to accost the stranger without reason, but he was curious as to why exactly the wolf was passing so close by.

Malachi felt the other's gaze upon him, but only turned to face the stranger when a neutral greeting alerted Malachi to his approach. His thoughts turned first to running, and he felt his muscles tighten. But his feet remained rooted for the ground, and Malachi paused before he turned to face the man, movements slow and calculated.

He did not reply right away. Instead he eyed every inch of the other man, jaded gaze assessing the other's apparent intentions, which by all means appeared non-aggressive. But Malachi took to the stranger with wariness. That the man did not seem a threat did not mean he wasn't one. Malachi had failed to count Caiaphas a danger, and Tuwawi, too. He stopped the recollection short. Paw hovering in the air, Malachi remained as if in mid-stride, with his head a notch down from full height. "Hello," he gave in slow return, and held a pregnant pause before adding, "I just want to get over the mountains."

He seemed wary, which was not a bad thing in Dante's eyes. After all, he would be a little dumb not to be nervous of a native to these lands approaching him. Dante could very well be a more aggressive creature, despite the fact that this obviously wasn't true.

"You may be better served to go around. Or at least try further down." He knew this part of the range to be harder to climb than others, it's affectionate name of 'The Wall' aptly earned. If he was determined, perhaps Malachi could make it, but it would be a rough journey. "What is on the other side?" It was an idle question, and perhaps invasive. Yet Dante was intrigued. This other wolf had an air about him that spoke of... defeat? Or at least an apathy that was a tad bit unsettling.

Locked in caution, Malachi was uncertain how to take the other man's advice. He was grateful for the direction, but he couldn't ease the unreasonable part of him that feared his company acted with other motives in mind. He finally settled on, "Thank you, sir," and lowered his raised paw to the ground again. But he paused before moving forward, for the man spoke before he had the chance to carry himself away.

Though the question was simple, the words were loaded for the loner. What didn't lie on the other side? Every time he crested a peak, he climbed with understanding one of these times he would be met with the sight of the Glacier again, and the memories he suppressed would fill him again. The thought made his stomach churn, but the only way back to Blackwood Vale was past those troubled lands. But the thought of returning to Blackwood only made him feel ready to wretch. They had forced him away once. Who was to say they would take him back? And if they turned him away, then where would he go?

For a few moments he mulled in silence, unwilling to divulge these thoughts with the stranger from the plateau. The words he chose were few and lined with uncertainty of the hazy future that lay before him now. "Something good, I hope."

Dante inclined his head in acknowledgement of the thanks, unaware of the other's wariness.  It did not cross his mind that Malachi could question his intentions, but it made sense that the other did.  Good natured, he remained oblivious, and was simply glad he could offer some help.

His next answer wasn't particularly detailed, but he sensed that this wasn't entirely out of secrecy.  It more sounded as though he wasn't sure what he wanted to find.  "Don't we all."

He wasn't sure if this other wolf was at all interested in continued conversation, but he personally was a little intrigued.  Though he was avidly against prying, he oftentimes wondered what brought others to the places they now walked. He did not look much younger than Dante himself, but he had no defined home... while not uncommon, it was still a bit of an oddity.

"Do you travel alone?" He decided upon, unsure where he was going with any of this interaction yet unwilling to let Malachi leave with silence just yet.

Malachi met the man's reply with a blank stare, but he did not turn away. There was something about this stranger that intrigued Malachi, and though he couldn't quite place what that something was, he waited a moment long enough for the other to speak again.

Sure enough the stranger spoke, and Malachi paused before turning to face the man more fully. He still did not close the distance between them, but neither did he shy further away. "I have for a while now," he said, voice still careful and slow. But inside he felt an ease begin to grow around his doubt for this man's stability. Despite all his fears, nothing of this man spoke of madness, and Malachi dared to turn the conversation back his way. "How many run with you?"

It was as he'd thought, and he did not envy Malachi his solitude. Dante had had the fortune of traveling very briefly alone. After he'd left Tarin, not much time had gone by before Helena joined him. And when he lost her as well, Blacktail Deer Plateau came into his life, filling the isolation hopefully for good. Being alone meant constantly having to watch your own back and fearing any sort of conflict. Running into another who wasn't alone was not a good thing when you didn't have any backup yourself.

"We have 6, a small but close group. I am fortunate." As of now he was unaware of Mordecai and Harlyn's intentions, as he had no reason to question their loyalties yet. He did not bring up the pups, nor would he unless this man wished to make a bid to join. Passing loners did not need to know about the children within, for personally he did not want to risk it. A bit of a paranoid move, but nothing seemed over the top when it came to protecting their little ones.

Six in all, small but close. An odd nostalgia overtook the man, or perhaps a sense of deja vu. Excluding the pups, the Sveijarn's cohort had been near that size when Malachi had followed their family to Duskfire. The number had been near the same when they had gathered to declare war against the wolves of the sea. Yet they surely had not been blessed, and a part of Malachi wondered how long this man's peace would last. He hoped longer than Duskfire's, and a secret part of him envied the thought.

"Hmm," came the sum of his reflections, no more than a wordless hum. His eyes gleamed with interest, but he couldn't shake the cynical conviction it was only a matter of time until calamity struck these wolves, too. What was strong today would be dust tomorrow: so it had gone, and so it would always be. "Is it you who leads them?"

"It is." He studied Malachi a bit more closely, though he avoided staring, not wishing to give offense or to be seen as rude. He was just attempting to decide something, and was considering. It was a few moments, but he finally shifted slightly, mind made up. "If you are not set upon a certain destination... do you seek a home?" It wasn't an offer, quite yet, but it held the promise of one should Malachi show interest.

Dante did not even know his name at this point, but he sensed the wolf to be a good man, and he had learned over time to trust his inclinations when it came to the hearts of others. Nothing about him spelled trouble, but there was a weariness that Dante should like to see eased. If the Plateau had the power to do such a thing, then it was only right to offer it. They could use another to guard their borders, to feed their little ones, and he seemed like he could use something to look towards. A direction, of sorts, was what Dante offered. And he wondered if the stranger would take it.

The gaze of his company fell more strongly upon him and Malachi's muscles tightened. The man was studying him - or was he sizing him up? Unease churned within and he felt the sudden urge to run. But his legs would not move. The man's words were nearly lost in a prickling wave of panic, but what Malachi caught through the flash of anxiety turned his paws to stone.

His tongue felt dry in his mouth, and for a moment he couldn't speak. The mountains filled his thoughts: his intention since turning around was to find his family in the North. But was that home? He dreaded every foothill and peak he conquered. At the top of every mountain he paused, straining to see if he would pass the Glacier, or if he would be spared another day. He felt the quaking in his paws and the trembling in his heart grow stronger every day he drew closer to the two packs he had run from, abandoned, and failed. Was it a home a he sought? Not if his hopes rested on the Glacier and the Vale.

But was there an offer for a home underlying his company's words? Malachi didn't latch himself to that hope. He had been offered a home before - a family by the very wolf he'd turned his back on when she'd needed him the most. Did he deserve another chance? He knew the answer, and his heart choked with guilt. But he wanted one. "Yes," Malachi said, though everything in him urged him to turn away and leave this little pack to the small peace they had. He was better off alone - but still his heart burned for what this man had, and he couldn't bring himself to say no.

Dante did not recognize the panic in Malachi at that moment, though feeling some of the unease he did relax his posture a bit more, eyes traveling to the trees around them to ensure all was well.  He did not have to wait long for an answer, and though it was one he had been halfway expecting, he turned attention back smartly when it was recieved.  So he sought a home.  One part of the equation.  Now the other two... Could this be that home, and were they truly willing to offer a place?

He felt an overwhelming urge to help this wolf though, perhaps because he recognized that wariness.  It was likely the same look he had worn a year or so ago, the guilt of past mistakes and the unwillingness to let history repeat making him reluctant to even approach other wolves.  He had no way of knowing what this wolf's past was, but he knew what his future could be.  Hopefully he would not come to regret this.

"Perhaps we can offer you one, if you wish.  The terms would be simple... Respect and protect your packmates, and do your part to ensure the pack is taken care of.  If you desire to, and are willing to live by those rules, you would be welcome to stay."  He watched for a reaction with interest, but did not press for an immediate answer. This decision was not ever one to be made lightly.

Malachi felt conviction take root as soon as his answer left his lips, but he couldn't take back the affirmation he had given. Instead he simply listened and tried to ignore the guilt that gnawed at his bones. There was nothing outstanding about the other man's demands. Such behaviour had been required in the Vale and at the Glacier, and Malachi expected no deviation in any other pack. But just because he'd been expected to fulfill these virtues didn't mean he had been able to. His life was a testament against them, for though he thought he had been protecting, his brother was dead, and what of the Glacier? He was their leader, they were his wolves, but he'd left like a snake, and forsook them to fight a war he had unknowingly provoked.

Malachi bit his tongue. Though the conviction to speak was sharp on his tongue, he could not confess his sins to this man. He would be rejected without a second glance: no wolf wanted the likes of him in their pack, a traitor and a coward. The only reason this Alpha was offering him a chance was because his shadows had not yet surfaced. Well, Malachi would make certain they never did. His father would frown upon him, but what did that matter now? He had already lost everything. He only wanted to leave all this behind.

"I'll take your offer, if you're sure you mean it," Malachi said quietly, voice steady despite the condemnation that raged within. He fought against the outcry of his heart and hardened himself against it. "My name's Malachi."

There was so much Dante did not know about the wolf before him, but still he was permitting him entry. A lot of faith to put in a gut feeling, but Dante was generally adamant about standing by his own ideals and decisions. Making calls like this one was one of the things he had honestly dreaded most about his position, but when it came down to it, it was the part that had come the easiest.

He gave an encouraging nod, happy as always that another was willing to give happiness in their home a chance. "Great! Welcome, Malachi. My name is Dante, and if you find you need anything, let me know. Either of the Betas, Lasher and Blue Willow, would also be happy to help. They and the rest will look forward to meeting you." He was sure that Malachi would fit in, it wasn't hard to do if you treated those around you decently. "For now, if you like, I can show you around? Maybe get you something to eat?" He wasn't sure when the loner had last had a meal.

 

When Dante received him, that was that. The name of vagabond was stripped from him to be replaced by something far better, though he knew the mercy shown him was far greater what he deserved. His third chance - and his last. A heavy weight settled in his paws, but Malachi dipped his head to his new Alpha in a quiet gesture of thanks and committed the names he spoke to memory. He had neither face nor scent to put to them, but he would gather those in due time.

"I'm good to explore on my own," he said, "but I wouldn't mind something to eat." Small prey had been enough to sustain him, but never enough to satisfy. The last time he'd felt contentedly full had fallen from his conscious mind, and he could barely remember the feeling. Yet still he would restrict himself, and take only what he needed until he managed to contribute to the pack himself. There were others to care for now, and this time he wouldn't let them down. He would make sure of that.

He was not bothered by Malachi's preference to explore alone; he had been the same when he had come to join. He found personally that he could learn paths better through his own idle wanderings than attempting to remember the demonstration given by another, and he wondered if perhaps Malachi felt the same. Instead he made good on his offer, turning to lead the way to a place that he knew a recently obtained meal lay unused.

"I think we can rustle up something," he said, indicating for the other to follow. He would accomodate that and then allow him his time to learn the ins and outs of what was to be his new home, hopefully for a long while. Soon he could begin to contribute, but while he was still so unfamiliar, the alpha took no issue with Malachi utilizing the resources of the pack. It was a gift that would likely be repaid many times over in the weeks to come should he prove a worthy addition.