Wolf RPG

Rakharo had explored as much as this new place as he could. He had come to the forest in he south and the glades in the east. He had seen the mountains flanking their west and he had scanned the whole meadow with his Khalas. But no Bison had been found. It was just another empty meadow, and they couldn't stay for too long.

Rakharo decided to give the grat lake in the north one last shot, because he was ambitious, But it gave him nothing more than a kick in the balls and, of course.. No Rhoa. So he just stood there, staring at his reflection in the water and cursing that damn hollow land. There was nothing for them in that place.

Rhanno's mood grew fouler with each passing day. Where in the name of the great golden bison was his son? His scent had faded from the territory, mingling once with others before vanishing from existence, as if he had left the lands altogether. So help him if he had, for Rhanno would show no mercy if Zoratto thought he could simply run off like that and think himself free. Worry seeped into his mind, wondering if perhaps he had gone back to Navi and Eshinni, but he shook the thought away, certain the boy was not so foolish.

After his quick journey up the mountains, the man rounded back towards the fields he had travelled through earlier, before his captive disappeared. He had sought to return to them, wondering if Zoratto had perhaps gone back there before a scent caused Rhanno to come to a halt. It was the smell of the one he had been tracking; an unmistakeable mix of dry grass, bison and other wolves. Familiar and foreign all at once, and the man was drawn towards it.

He had trailed the mountainside, following a river that eased its way down before opening up into a large lake. It was there he found him, standing and staring into the surface of the water. Cutting a strikingly large silhouette, Rhanno was pleased with the man's initial appearance — he looked tough. Whether or not he was as capable Khal as he looked, though, was to be seen. Picking his way down the rocky slope, the man finally reached level ground and approached the similarly scarred wolf, his ears uncharacteristically flattened in respect. He felt uncomfortable with such a submissive display, and it showed, though he kept quiet, allowing the Khal to speak first once he noted his approach.

His thoughts could have taken Rakharo in so many different directions, all of them as uncertain as the future of his own life, if he hadn't been interrupted by a scent that silently dirfted to his reach. A scent that he recognized instantly, but not from one of his own people. It was a scent he'd gotten from Zoratto, the newest addition to his Khalas, and he knew who the scent belonged to. The boy had talked about his captor, the one Rakharo had freed him from with his admission to his own Khalas.

The golden Khal turned around, with his tail held high and his chest muscles flexed in a display of dominance, ready to behold the, presumably, veteran Khal that planned to take over his Khalas. He was old. No doubt about that. But his appearance left a great deal to be desired. A haunched, limping elder who wanted to take over his throne. What a joke.

Crude dissatisfaction showed clearly in Rakharo's eyes as he met old Rhanno's. And he didn't say a word. He just stared, looking up and down at the elder, examining every scarred inch of his body.

He was met with a look of undeniable disapproval from the Khal who stood tall and proud, causing the older male to draw himself to his full height in instinctive assertiveness. He wasn't one to grovel and beg for approval; he had been a Khal for so long dominance was almost second nature to him. The fact that he had to seek acceptance into this new Khalas made his ego weep. Despite this, Rhanno kept his tail neutral and eyes averted, awaiting for the man to speak.

The silence dragged on, however, and it was clear that he had to initiate the conversation. The air was already tense, and his words shattered the quiet between them, "My name is Rhanno ki Davrollosi." He introduced himself in their native tongue, dipping his head in respect like a good little subordinate. Ugh. "I believe you've met my...son already." There was no mistaking the runt's scent that clung to the Khal's coat, among plenty of others that Rhanno couldn't help but investigate. He quickly picked up on the scent of a young female. Interesting.

The way Rhanno stood up with pride made it clear for Rakharo that the old man knew how to carry himself as a Khal. It was in his nature just as it was in Rakharo's. They were sure to clash at some point. The golden Khal had little tolerance for rivals, and one that didn't even pose a major threat to him was only going to be a pain in the ass.

But why allow him to be a rival?

Maybe Rakharo would be able to lure in the elder for his Khalas and allow him to become a well monitored advisor on warfare matters. It showed in his body that he had been mighty once, and a mighty Khal knew how to win wars. It was a possibility Rakharo was willing to consider.

"I have met Zoratto, yes." the khal spoke with assertiveness, leaving it clear that he had no intention to be kind to the old man. "He offered me his loyalty in return of his freedom and a place among my Khalas..." he stopped for a second to analyze Rhanno's reaction, "He lives as one of us now..."

Rhanno quickly caught on that the other male didn't hold him in the highest regard, perhaps even the opposite, if the stern tone in his voice was anything to go by. As he revealed he had indeed met Zoratto, the man gave the slightest of nods, inwardly shouting I knew it, before his hackles bristled as the Khal continued. HE WHAT? Why he was so surprised, Rhanno had no idea, but upon hearing Zoratto's apparent freedom, given to him by the man standing before him, his anger was barely concealable — had he been a human, the veins at his temples would have been bulging.

Attempting to keep the fury from his voice, Rhanno shifted, his expression blank save for the straight, pinched line that was his lips. "Did he now?" he mused lowly. What gave this man the right to grant the runt his freedom? He was a Khal, sure, but not Zoratto's Khal. Rhanno was Zoratto's Khal. Not officially, but he wasn't about to give up the title despite his lack of a pack. He fixed the man in his gaze, head tilting to the side. "How many strong are your Khalas?"

The way Rhanno reacted to the golden Khal's words allowed Rakharo to identify clear signs of discontent from the elder. But he didn't do anything. Had Rhanno been a strong wolf despite his age he would have probably challenged Rakharo for taking away his followers, but the elder simply stared and held back a grunt. Pathetic. Rakharo did however pay attention to the way the wolf was staring at him and returned it with burning orange eyes, further displaying his dominance as a Khal. He wasn't going to be insulted by an old man whoever he was, Rakharo was Khal and no one would change that.

"He did, and seemed eager to do it..." the Khal responded with a serious expression, implying how unconfortable he probably felt beside old creep Rhanno. "Unlike you, we grow stronger every day, and I am sure Zoratto will become of help with time. That is why I gave him the opportunity to join us." the Khal said, finishing with a smirk.

Rhanno stood unflinching as the Khal stared him down with his fiery gaze, similar in colour to his own but with the spark of youth burning bright within. He wondered how long the man had been Khal. He had a following already, which meant he wasn't too new to leadership. Unless of course he had pulled a Tihollo and his Khalas were no better than the traitorous wolves that made up Rhanno's last pack. If they were, then perhaps Zoratto would fit in perfectly.

The other's wry smirk caused his perpetual frown to deepen, knowing full well the boy would be glad to free from his clutches. He wasn't a coyote; he wasn't born into slavery. Yet he was still Rhanno's property. He didn't truly think of him as a son, though he was the closest thing he had to one (having severed any connection with Tihollo when he pulled his little usurper stunt) and he'd be damned if he just let him frolic away into the distance.

I wouldn't be so sure of that, Rhanno mentally responded with an inward roll of his eyes to the other's comment of Zoratto eventually being of some use to them. However, it seemed he had proven himself more than Rhanno had. He had to at least feign some humility if he was to be accepted into the Khalas ranks. The very idea was abhorrent, but he knew he wouldn't survive long as a loner in foreign lands. "He is still my ward," the elder said through gritted teeth. A lie, partly. "And I would like to continue watching over him."

It wasn't surprising to see that Rhanno got even more upset with every word that came out of Rakharo's mouth. The elder had been a Khal, one overthroned by his own son, he was bitter and resented, and it showed clear in his grumpy frown.

But still, Rhanno was an elder, and elders knew how things worked around a Khalas and were good counsel if they kknew how to be content with their rank. It was just a matter of giving the man a shot, and Rakharo was self confident enough to consider giving a shot to a resented ex-Khal like Rhanno.

Rakharo's gaze turned serious then, and his voice deepened as his tail arched higher up over his back "You'll be on probation until I deem you worthy of trust." Rakharo said as if he had been expecting Rhanno to ask for a spot in the pack, "And Zoratto will attend warrior lessons with me. He's no longer yours if he doesn't want to, and you will be pack-mates for all intents and purposes." Rakharo's voice suggested how serious he was about his words. They were commands, from a Khal to an Silak like any other.

Rhanno wouldn't lie, he was slightly relieved the man had accepted him into the pack — even if he was under probation and had lost his captive. The Khal could have just as easily cast him into exile (...again), or even killed him if he wanted. Not that Rhanno would submit so easily but the journey had been rough on him, and the Khal was in his prime and had the rest of the Khalas to back him up. Swallowing his pride just this once to earn a place within the pack was a much better option that any of the others.

He grumbled lowly, a soft but deep sound in the back of his throat, as the other arched his tail. Ultimately, though, Rhanno accepted his place with a respectful dip of his head — though not too low and not for too long. From Khal to Silak. At least he was not a slave (or worse, a captive). Would he have been given that title, he would have just asked the Khal to kill him there. Being a simple member, though, Rhanno could deal with that. With a roll of his shoulders, as if trying to shed his frustrations, the man spoke, "so be it."

At least he had done what he had set out to do.

Rakharo felt satisfied with the male's lack of opposition. He did notice the internal struggle the elder was going through, but that was something to be expected. The old wolf had been a Khal once, one that ran the great grass sea in search of plunder, just like his own Khalas and his father's before him. All Khals were proud wolves, and being a subordinate after having been in power would never be an easy thing, but Rakharo expected the man to be of use to his pack, or else, he would be deposed.

Turning around, the proud Khal walked on to reunite with the Khalas and introduce the elder to the rest. He would watch him closely and evaluate his behavor before trusting him to stay with him without the need of constant supervision, and maybe then he would seek him out for counsel once or twice and evaluate his comittment to the Khalas. He was willing to give the man some trust, but he would have toearn it.