Wolf RPG

Ovaltine was not sure if his surname had been chosen because they knew he would be a drifter or if he had simply become a drifter because of his surname. What did it matter, anyway? His feet had taken to wandering since the death of his father and subsequent disbanding of Green Skeleton Ridge. He could not count the days from then until the present, nor did he intend to. Instead, he simply kept walking, chatting up the locals when they would have him, and subsisting on scavenged carrion or the occasional shared kill. (The latter was much harder to come by.) The winters were difficult, and Oval often lost the majority of his weight during the colder months, but somehow he had made it out alive twice. He intended to do it again and again until the world had had enough of his antics.

As the sun began to beat down on the lush land below, Ovaltine thought it best to keep moving. (Spoiler alert: Ovaltine always thinks it's a good idea to keep moving.) He rose from his curled position on the hard earth, pushed up from where gravity pulled, and stretched. First, his front legs. Then, his hind legs. Finally, his neck and tail. The large male let out a long, drawn-out yawn, shook his coat, and trotted south with no real purpose in mind. Sooner or later, he always ran into somebody.

She and Tybalt had been in the area for a few days, nosing about aimlessly. It seemed to be that way with him; he'd come across a new land and want to explore, to see if she lived within. So far it had not worked out, but Shylock wasn't one to say never. Perhaps this would be the place to find that girl, the one who had stolen her brother's heart before she stole away. Though Shylock had liked the Gladius family and had been able to overlook their dull minds, she couldn't forgive the dark woman for what she did to Tybalt.

Shylock had decided to find something to do. It was warm, and Balt was once again in the midst of his frantic searching. She would follow him to the ends of the earth, even if that meant giving up her rank and stable life back in the forest. Tybalt was her life, her love, and her never-ending happiness. Seeing him safely to this fickle woman was her current life's mission. Ahead she saw a wolf, and she smiled softly. She wondered if this one was worth talking to. "Hail, friend!" Shy was a scholar, not a fighter, and she greeted strangers quicker than most. "Name's Shylock. New to town. Could you tell me what you know of the area?" She smiled then, hoping her forwardness would be well received.

The pack was devastatingly low in numbers. Any other time, Scimitar would have taken this with a sense of pride -- the less wolves in the pack, the less trouble there seemed to be, especially with the rough crew they seemed to entice. But he had four puppies at home who were at a tender age.. and if they could buffer their ranks up just slightly, he knew the caches would be better stocked for it.

So, the regal climbed down from his high mountain and swept through the lands below, feeling a sense of unease at the unfamiliarity of it all. His pale paws swept through the grass, noting the direction Duskfire Glaicer would be and determining to steer clear of it. He held no love for Njal or Tuwawi, and did not wish to come across any of them.

Instead, upon entering a stretch of plain, he came upon two wolves. Both holding the warmth of gold, silver and brown within their pelts, he did not recognize them.. nor did he smell a familiar pack upon their pelts. Stoically, the Alpha closed the distance between them, his own form held at a cautiously neutral stance, given the freedom of their location. "Hello," he greeted, his tail giving an idle sweep through the air, though he had missed Shylock's introduction and question upon his arrival.

Lo and behold, he was met with a chipper young lass who seemed to have a skip in every step. But perhaps he was imagining things. She asked him what he knew of the area, and he shrugged. "No more than you do, I'm sure," Ovaltine replied. "I've only just arrived. My name's Ovaltine Driftwood." He wasn't able to get another word in before somebody else arrived. A male, perhaps around the same age as himself, though probably a whole heckuva lot more rooted. That was pure speculation on Oval's part, of course.

Ovaltine glanced to Shylock, then returned his gaze to the latest arrival. "Maybe this guy could help us both out." He paused, then decided it would be best to introduce himself to the new guy as well. "I'm Ovaltine Driftwood. This little lady is Shylock, though we've only just met. What can you tell us about this area?" he asked, making his question a more direct one.

The two weren’t traveling companions it would seem – which meant his ‘two for one’ opportunity had likely plummeted a bit. Still, they greeted him, though the she-wolf remained quiet in comparison to the tawny male. His eyes skimmed them both, noting nothing out of sorts between them.. Relaxing slightly, the regal gave what could have been an amicable nod to either – that, or perhaps the stoical mask upon his features only made him more foreboding.
 
“Scimitar,” he greeted in ways of a simple introduction. His gaze broke from them then to study briefly the landscape they stood upon, his shoulders rolling back in a small shrug. “You’re in Teekon Wilds – we call this region Snowforest Taiga. It’s less populated than the other areas.” He paused for a moment before swinging his muzzle back to the direction of the mountain in the distance. “Over there is Nova Peak – the land I lay claim to. A little closer is another territory claimed by a pack. I’m not sure what they’ve named it.” Just that they had known how close they were to their neighbors.. and had decided to settle anyhow. If anything, they had settled closer than even The Sunspire had to the pack when they had lived in Swiftcurrent Creek. “You both just passing through?”

A plethora (one of my favorite words, by the way) of information fell from Scimitar's jaws. He went on to explain his pack, the surrounding areas, and even an additional pack that wasn't his at all. Ovaltine was, to say the least, tickled to get so much information in one go. Shylock remained quiet, presumably because she had nothing to add. She had come looking for information as well, so Ovaltine assumed she was taking it all in, just as he was.

But a question had been asked, and it was a question worth answering. "I'm perpetually passing through," Ovaltine replied with an impish grin. He had never stayed in one place for too terribly long, and he intended to keep it that way. He assumed that Shylock was the same, though there was no reason for him to assume as much. "Guessing Miss Shylock's the same way."

"Careful when you go further south," he offered, abandoning his thoughts on adding two potential recruits to his ranks -- had either of them sought a pack, they would have spoken up about such when he made mention to his own claim. Because of this, both strangers lost his interest rapidly, though that did not mean he would not offer one last bit of insight to the wayward travelers. "There's a pack there called Blackfeather Woods. They get their kicks out of torturing others," he spoke simply, as if making a random comment about the pleasant weather they had been having.

Forewarned, the moment the two left his sight it would matter little to him what happened onward -- a certain take on life he had learned from Swiftcurrent Creek.

"Oh dear," Ovaltine replied, a frown settling over his face. He knew there were such terrors in the world, though he had managed to avoid them (for the most part). "I will be sure to keep my distance from them." He assumed that Shylock would do the same when she nodded in agreement. Sensing that this Scimitar was not one for smalltalk, and not wishing to overstay his welcome, Ovaltine made his exit as gentlemanly as possible.

"Thank you for the sound advice, Scimitar," he said, swishing his tail from hock to hock. "Perhaps we will meet again." With that, Ovaltine departed.

And just like that, their conversation was over. “Safe travels,” the Peak regal allowed, his gaze fast upon the duo as they made to leave. Of course, the farewell was more of a pleasantry than anything else – it was likely the last he would see of the two lone wolves, and aside from missing the opportunity to recruit them for Nova Peak, he felt little desire to linger his thoughts upon them any longer.
 
In truth, it was a ridiculous notion to send himself out to recruit others – he was perhaps the least social of his pack mates. Bazi would be their best option – but for now, she needed rest, after Danica’s death.. and time with their pups.
 
So, he turned, his paws carrying him back in the direction of home – loathing to be away from his family for too long, when their numbers were so little.

"Safe travels," was probably a better way to end their conversation, considering Ovaltine so rarely stayed in one place for very long. Then again, who knew? The drifter had always been a fickle beast. He glanced back then, wondering if Shylock wished to follow him, at least for a little while. It seemed, however, that she had vanished into thin air. Perhaps he had caused her unrest in some way. Whatever the case, the only thing Ovaltine saw was Scimitar's backside as it headed in the other direction. Ovaltine shrugged, then continued about his way, seeking out new adventures.