If he sat down and thought about it, it'd been what? Three? Almost four days since everything had gone down? It seemed like forever ago. It felt like yesterday. Sometimes. His body had been put through the wringer. Mentally. Physically. His mind was slowly starting to come back to earth, but his body still ached. His wounds were healing, closing up and scabbing nicely, but they were starting to itch and his muscles were sore.
If he ignored the itch, he could focus on the ache. That was easier. With each long stride he took, Kerosene pulled himself closer and closer to the summit of the Spine. If everything were not so fresh, he might have paid a visit to the hot springs and let the heat help ease the tension from his shoulders. As was, that journey felt too distant and too long a travel than he wished to be away.
He'd work with what he had at his disposal... and just like that he had a thought that carried him up the ridge and towards the summit of the spine. He spotted the pool, filled only days before from a rain shower, brimming and buzzing with dragonflies and other creatures seeking stagnant water. With his presence, he cleared most of that out. The rest would continue to buzz.
A paw slipped beneath the water's surface. Mmm. Just as he'd hoped. The water was shallow enough that the sun warmed the waters naturally. By no means could they rival the springs, but its warmth was a strange comfort. He settled himself within the shallows of the pool and rested his head upon the shore. Golden eyes hid themselves behind weary lids. He rested attentively.
He was usually a physical being, following his instincts, ignoring the petty emotions that yearned for his attention. To the aspiring warrior, they were a nuisance, getting in his way while he worked, messing up his mind. Occasionally though, he allowed it to roam freely in him, this one was one of those times. The swarthy roman had just completed a circuit around the borders, diligently remarking the scent lines and keeping an eye out for any intruders, whether it was one of his kind, or other predators that threatened the wolves of his pack.
The view was rather spectacular, summer had granted it a beautiful appearance and although truthfully the roman was more of a mountain or sea wolf, he saw the woods not as a suffocating atmosphere, but one of hidden beauty. Or perhaps it was merely because he was adapting to the new environment, getting used to these greener lands and forests. Nevertheless, the smoky wolf decided to take a small break before continuing on with his duties.
Smoky black paws thrummed gently on against the ground as he scaled the ridge, each sure-footed step bringing him closer to his destination, he'd found it only once when he went on a brief exploration of his new home, but a roman did not forget so easily. Forgetting was not something any wolf of a Roman legion possessed, that weakness had been hammered out of them from a young age, and whatever a roman general taught you, you would never forget.
Ocean blue eyes found the familiar golden form of the Alpha male, resting within the shallows of the pool, recently filled by a shower of rain. His posture shifted to one appropriate of his low rank as his gaze drifted away from his packmate to the view offered below. But it was only for a second, a moment later his eyes alighted on the pool once more and Arverk chuffed softly to announce his presence.
At the wolf's chuff, his ears flicked forward. His eyes snapped open, roaming only to fall heavily upon the new wolf's form. Ahh. It seemed this one was a bit of an explorer. It hadn't been long since he'd joined and already he was braving heights like these. Good of him. It was excellent cardio to climb this high. The change in elevation and the thinner air only made it all the better an exercise.
He lifted his head. Water dripped from the furs around his neck as he regarded the wolf who'd joined him. Did he have something to say? The silence brewed between them, growing almost uncomfortable before he broke it with words. "Is this what you expected?" One question. One question that could have been taken so many different ways.
Kerosene waited, curious as to what the wolf might make of it.
Keen blue eyes watched as the russet wolf's ears flicked forward and his eyes opened, their golden gaze falling upon his smoky black form. The Roman stared back, but he was careful to avoid making eye contact with him, keeping his posture and movements respectful and deferring to his superior. None of them spoke, so he watched the male lift his proud golden crown and followed the movement of the water droplets. Still, there was silence and it was when he began to feel awkward when the Alpha spoke.
The question he asked was vague, he could be referring to various things. Pack life, the packlands, the pond, the alpha's attitude, packmates and more. Perhaps it had been just a simple question to break the silence between them, or it could be a test, either ways, he couldn't just stand there and act like a mute. "Pretty much," the swarthy whale tilted his head, his words regarding all aspects the russet male could be asking.
Then the Roman asked a question of his own, "Whats your name? I didn't catch it last time."
Kero smirked. "Pretty much." Pretty to think so. Abandoning that question and reply, Kerosene sat up in the water and lowered his head to one side. Hind paw lifted, scratching at his ear for a moment before he pulled himself more completely out of the water. He shook his coat, sending a spray of water into the air. When he stopped, his pelt seemed to bristle naturally. Still wet. Still gathered at the ends. He'd dry eventually, but for now all was well and good.
The wolf asked a question. His name? Ahh. Right. He'd not spoken it before. "Iqniq," he replied. It was the name Tonravik had given him when he'd entered the spine. He wore it here. The rest of the wilds? They knew him by something else. It was, perhaps, an identity crisis of some kind, but it mattered not. He would be what he needed to be when it was required of him. No more. No less.
His golden gaze turned to the horizon only to fall back upon the dark wolf. Arverk. The name Tonravik had given him. This one seemed to be growing into it well. "What did you mean when you spoke of tracking?" Kerosene asked, referring back to their time on the borders. Back then, Kero'd thought of it as hunting, but now he wondered if the wolf might have meant something else.
Arverk's keen eyes did not miss the smirk that spread across the russet wolf's maw. His blue gaze drifted towards the view offered once more, mentally admiring the scene below, outwardly though, he was as stoic as ever. Slowly, he turned to the Alpha Male, watching as the golden male scratched his ear before pulling his large body completely out of the water and shook his coat. Droplets of water landed on the swarthy Spine wolf's coat, but he ignored them, the droplets would simply settle on top of his fur.
Iqniq. The russet wolf's name was also of the language Tonravik had spoken the day he sought acceptance by Ouroboros Spine borders. Arverk wondered if this Iqniq was also one of them, and by one of them, he meant born and raised like them. Curiosity burned beneath his breast, wishing for it to be put into words and then to be spoken aloud. Surprisingly enough, the Roman obliged this time. "Do you speak Tonravik's language?"
Iqniq asked a question in return, asking what he meant when he spoke of tracking. The briefest of smiles spread across his lips for a moment before answering, "I meant tracking the path of prey, of wolves, of all creatures. I used to track down offenders of my natal pack and kill them," Arverk expertly kept all the wistfulness from his voice, expression remaining as stoic and impassive as ever.
The wolf was somewhat slow to speak, as if the question was not immediate upon his mind, but rather thoughtful and considered before the words fell at home upon the air. Did Kerosene speak Tonravik's native tongue? "I do not." It was why she'd named Arverk and given him a new start. Once upon a time, she'd named Kerosene too. Her words. Her ways. He was supportive of them and in time he'd learn well enough that they could become their ways and their words. Until then? He wasn't going to change a thing about her. Wouldn't dream of it.
"Fortunately, she is also well versed in this one and uses the other sparingly." If she spoke at all. A light grin fell upon his muzzle. It seemed they would both be admiring the view quite a bit on this encounter as they surrendered each other to silence. Kerosene was unbothered by it. Then again, he was mate to the female who spoke so infrequently that for her to break the silence at all meant it was best for one to be paying attention.
Any pay attention he could, for when the wolf spoke next he described a series of jobs that were solitary tasks. Things that required no other at ones side. "An assassin of sorts?" he asked in question, wondering what his wolf was truly capable of. "What assignment have you most enjoyed?"
Apparently, Iqniq did not speak Tonravik's native tongue, which meant he did not come from wherever the black bear had been born and raised in. But it wasn't really surprising to the newcomer, he didn't act like her, he wasn't as stoic or as serious as most of the wolves he had encountered in the Spine, or as coarse and rough in speech. Arverk should have known...god, he'd grown so stupid over his travels, he knew his fighting and hunting skills might be a bit rusty..but his brains? That was unexpected.
A small smile touched the Roman's maw at Iqniq's quip, yes, the smoky black whale should have seen it, should have known. But it was in the past now, and he wasn't going to chastise himself, he didn't need to have the image of 'crazy' stamped on his face.
Blue eyes drifted to the view when both of them surrendered to silence once more, it didn't bother the Roman at all. Silence had become his companion when he was on his travels, and he had been used to not speaking in days, weeks, maybe even months. He didn't keep track of time, time to him would simply pass, and keeping track of it simply wasted precious brainpower.
Arverk smiled, "I prefer 'solitary warrior' to assassin. I was a bastard, my people cared a lot about status, so I was only allowed to be a soldier with others — all wolves in my natal pack were soldiers —, everyone shunned my sister and I, so we did all the jobs that could be done alone," the black wolf shrugged, blue eyes unfocused for a moment as he wondered how to answer the next question. "I don't particularly enjoy any assignments. It was my duty, so I did it. But I did enjoy the spars..." He felt truly alive when he was fighting.
The wolf answered his question in speaking more on his origins. A bastard child. "Ahhh," the soft sound escaped his muzzle as if to suggest that one little fact explained everything. In some packs, it did. He knew there were different flavors of society out there and that each pack held their own unique rules, cultures, and associated traditions. Here? Wherever the wolf came from meant nothing so long as who he became was worthy of being here.
Despite his circumstances, it appeared as though the wolf still had spirit. Kerosene grinned, chuckling lightly at his mention that he still enjoyed a good spar. Didn't they all? "Well now. Maybe you can learn to find some enjoyment in it." He shrugged it was always up to the wolf, wasn't it? They got to pick what they enjoyed, what they didn't. "Tonravik already said it, but while we require all members of the Spine to be trained as Warriors and Wardens, you're more than welcome to pick up a third hobby of your choosing. See if there's anything else you might like."
Maybe there was. Maybe there wasn't. As for fighting? "You and I should have a friendly spar sometime." He'd enjoy it much as Arverk. Testing the body's limits certainly had a way of making any wolf feel more alive. "Any other time, I'd say let's go for it and try the mountain air, but unfortunately I'm still recovering from a previous encounter." He wasn't going to risk reopening any wounds until he was certain they'd healed. Soon, but not soon enough to test them in the present moment. "Rain check on that one. I promise I'll make it worth the wait."
Birth status was very important in his natal pack. If you were the child of an Alpha pair, you were better valued and trained with better teachers. Bastards were treated with contempt and shunned from the society, but not necessarily not allowed to pursue 'better' jobs such as messenger or general. Some of the best leaders were bastards as far as he was concerned, and therefore proved that just because you were a child of a leader did not mean you inherited their leading abilities. He was glad that being a bastard did not matter in this pack. None of his past did anymore. The Roman could only hope things were just as good with his sister, but the chance of that was slim.
If Arverk did not have spirit, he would have died long ago, thrown into pits for sacrifices to gods or abandoned by some mountain. Thank the gods he had been a child of a high rank, therefore he hadn't been brutally murdered in that kind of manner. "Perhaps," the whale said with a small smile and a shrug. "I'll probably go for Outrider," Arverk said, blue eyes drifting back to the scenery below. Exploring was in his blood, and more than once, he had been plagued by wanderlust, it was the perfect trade for him, other than Warrior and Warden.
"Yeah, we should," Arverk replied with a grin. "Don't risk opening old wounds eh?" while that might be scorned in Palatine Plains for a weakness, he knew that if Iqniq was to fight and defend the pack, he had to be healthy and strong. Ripping over old wounds because of a friendly spar was not a good enough reason for such damage. "It better be."
The Spine kept things simple. The alpha pair bred. The rest of the wolves could enjoy as much recreational romping as they desired so long as there was no "yielding". That was the word Tonravik had used with him so many moons ago when he'd first joined the pack. It kept things simpler that way. No additional pups to compete. No impure bloodlines or what not. No prejudice of pedigree. Adults who joined the Spine? He didn't much care where they came from. Birth right or rank meant nothing here. Upon joining, each wolf had their slate wiped clean.
Curious though, that this wolf would seek to become an outrider. Kerosene found it interesting if only because that was also the additional path he'd chosen to pursue as well. Outriding satisfied his wanderlust and created interesting interactions in which he often learned things here and there that benefited the Spine. Keeping tabs on other packs? Simple enough. Most wolves were lose of lip when it came to those things. Considering Tonravik and the possibility she was with child, his window of opportunity for travel was coming to a close. It would be nice to have another wolf with eyes and ears on the ground.
"A good choice. I hope you will pursue it." Aside from Warrior and Warden, the third trade was always up to the wolf who wanted it. Kerosene would not push the trade further. If this one wanted it, he could earn the title on his own.
As for their spar? Kero had a few scenarios running around in his mind that he had yet to explore. No doubt, one of them would appease this wolf and reward his patience. Kero chuckled. "Not between packmates." He'd rather his wounds heal within the bounds of his home. But if trouble found him? He'd rather tear them open defending the Spine than by playing within it. He'd be of no use for the pack if hurt himself just before needing to defend it. So wait they would.
He rose, lifting to leave with a smirk on his face. "Oh, it will be." Something different, but challenging all the same. "Enjoy the view." With that, Kerosene left the new wolf to his own thoughts and the surrounding scenery. It was time to traverse back down this mountain into their valley below.
-Kero exits-
Exploring was in the blood of any true Roman, whether they were bastard born or pure blooded. If some part of you were Roman and part of the branch Arverk knew, they were bound to love exploring, though naturally some would love it more and others only viewed it as a small hobby. Either ways, they were all plagued by wanderlust, and it was natural for them to leave the pack from a day to weeks when their wandering blood called for them. He had been a messenger back in Palatine Plains, he didn't see why he couldn't be one here either, though here messages would have another meaning, probably a decapitated head or a dead body.
Arverk simply allowed a small smile to play at his lips in response to Iqniq's comment about purseing the Outrider trade, he preferred actions to words and although he could be quite eloquent if he wished to be, talking wasn't something he enjoyed unlike some other wolves. It was something that was nescessary if he wished to survive, and therefore he was an expert at that skill, but other than that he took no joy in speaking. He would fit in with the stoic Tartok wolves.
Arverk dipped his smoky black crown to his leader as the golden male left before trotting over to the pond to soak himself and admire the scenery. Because gods know when he would have free time again.