The mated couple had not left with their tail tucked between their legs, as Rakharo had imagined. They had left stiffly and proudly, and when the duo trotted to snap at them, they spun and snapped back to turn and go again. It never came to blows; Tonravik could be hypocritical, but firmly stood by the fact that attacking a pack wolf on their land was one of the dumbest things that a wolf could do.
Iqniq was still healing from his battle with Kodiak, and if they were successful in their attempts to bring new life, it would be unwise to provoke
any pack, regardless of how dimwitted she knew them to be.
Tonravik was not an emotional woman. She was not irrational, and rarely acted that way. But her temper in the past three days had spiked, and also, so had her desire to urinate.
With this spiked temper of hers, she thought of their meeting with the two wolves and the coyote slave, and she remembered the look in Rakharo's eye toward her. The alpha female wrinkled her muzzle as she and her mate marched along. There was a large rock wall before them, and as they turned to walk along it, Tonravik remained quiet. Her mind was as gnarled as the set of roots and shrubbery before them. If Tonravik could have understood the foreigners words, she would have killed him and been done with them.
"I think," she speaks at last,
"that they must die." Tonravik looks to him, ear twitching, wondering his thoughts on the matter.
He was still convinced the coyote had not translated true and that she had screwed them over somehow. He preferred thinking that, letting the coyote's species succumb to the stereotype of trickery than to think the leader of the plains wolves was dull enough not to recognize what had just happened. Their wolf invaded the spine. The spine dealt with her as any pack would treat an unwanted fiend. Returning their wolf was meant to be a statement. That Khal had no control over his own wolves.
They were welcome to twist the scenario either way they wanted to. No wolf could deny the plain and simple of the matter, but if they needed to paint each other in poor light to save face? Mmm. It was their prerogative and their mistake.
Nevertheless, both he and Tonravik had taken to wandering. Since they were out and about and the Spine was strong enough to protect itself without their presence, they had this moment to themselves. To think. To dwell. To reflect on what had happened and what would be. He was no so angered as she, which allowed him to think more clearly, but his silence was a cold and bitter thing.
She spoke. "I didn't realize we were still humoring the idea of if they will die. I'd already moved on to when," he said. He was baffled, still, at the arrogance of the plains wolves. He'd explained once to one of their women how, if the scenario was in reverse their Khal would defend their lands just as fiercely. That, she understood. But when it came to his own territory, she hadn't been able to compute the information. It was simple to him. Tit for tat. He couldn't humor such blatant stupidity forever. Better to take the stupid out now before the infection spread.
Tonravik listened to his words and snorted. It was not if, had they not gone to tell the plains that?
She struggled. "I do not want to wait for them to try again." She paused, an understanding there that this might be the best course of action. "Though it would be best."
But the signs pointed that she was with child, her urination the first hint. There was no nausea to be had at this point, but never had she had to relieve her bladder so much. Every time she did, she kicked over it, hiding her scent and their route. So she had answered him, her preference of when. When the cubs existed, she would not leave them for a time. When, indeed? Before? After?
Tonravik thought of her mother. The Spine was their stronghold, and the leader paused to sniff at a root before deciding this was the perfect spot to pee. Again she kicked at the earth when finished, and looked to him darkly. "They will come to us," she remarks. They always did.
He looked to her, catching her gaze as it stared hard in his direction. He understood her and shared similar sentiments. It was a far easier thing to nip this issue in the bud before it came to pass, but there was more to consider in this. She realized as much, expressing her frustration in not wanting to wait but realizing it would be better if they did. Wait. Wait and see. Wait and train. Wait and... something. Who knew what would come to pass between now and then.
His mind was full as he nodded his agreement and waited as she relieved herself. A lot. Her frequent urination had him wondering if she needed to drink less and eat more so water did not so quickly run through her. Then again. Their coupling had been frequent and now that the fire no longer rode her loins he had hopes that she would soon be with child. It was too soon to visibly tell and he was not an expert in this...
Kero forced his mind elsewhere. He did not wish to dwell on ifs or whens with unfriendly neighbors so new to their neighborhood. For now, he could only assume that all was well and that pups would come and he would make every effort to unsure their future until and after that time came. "They will. We've traveled to them once. If they take issue, it's their turn to return the favor. Let the journey exhaust them." And drain their resources. And weather their souls.
Tonravik knew there was nothing else to do here but for the Plains to come to them. And why would they do that? What reason? It was the others that were in the wrong, not she and hers. Besides. Tonravik had seen what they were up against, and each time, had won. Aside from that, the journey truly was a tiring one. A week there, a week back. It was an arduous one; she would lead her troops, were there anything to gain, but Tonravik had no desire for their open plains or their bison. The Spine had everything and more. For the Plains to come against them would be for the Plains wolves to lose more than their pride, but their life.
She felt the sun beat at her back and flicked her ears. There was nothing more to say on this. None would be spared. No matter who they were. Tonravik had no idea what their slave had told them. She did not care. Wolves all lived by a code. For them to come to the Spine meant they had come for nothing else but their death. But now, all she could think of was the heat, and looked to the stone wall for cover.
They were in agreement. There was nothing more or less to say as they nosed along the edges of the mountain wall and lingered in the summer heat. And hot it was. More-so than he would ever admit, but if he was feeling the thick of it, he was certain Tonravik would feeling it something more fiercely.
He forged ahead, running alongside the draping vines and tangles of creeping ivy until he came to a place in the wall that felt cooler. Strange. He stepped towards the coolness and the foliage and noticed it was slightly... transparent? What?
Sniffing at the veil, he pressed his nose through the vines and found himself in the mouth of a rather large bat cave. He took a step back, glanced at her, then used his body to brush the curtain of plant life aside to allow her entrance. There was a hole in the ceiling, making it easy to see inside, but the mouth of this cave was rather lush with plant life. A miniature biome of its own, they were bound to find some sort of water somewhere to fend off the rest of their summer thirst.
Tonravik watched him scout ahead. She moved forward but her head swung toward the direction the wall face was not, where they were exposed. But there was nothing to be smelt or seen. Only when her mate slowed did she look back to him, watching him investigate the stony face where the area he lingered at seemed to thin. Then he disappeared into it some, and Tonravik moved outward, lowering her head and sniffing the earth hungrily. No scent of predators entering this place could be noted... and so as Iqniq parted the vines and the thinner roots, she lowered herself some to shimmy into the entrance, concerned with the thicker, gnarled roots that hung heavily but certainly precariously above them, from a small, budding tree that jut out awkwardly on a ledge far above them.
The woman was cooler immediately upon entrance. For this, she was thankful. A thin light streamed through the ceiling, and Tonravik looked left and right before moving onward, sniffing as she sought water.
She slipped past him, eyeing the surrounding terrain somewhat uncertainly as she moved inside. He followed after her, admiring the area if only because it was somewhat of a treasure trove of interesting flora. Soft green mosses covered round stone. Ferns littered the cavern floor. The light from above cast sunbeams upon the ground. He slipped through them, letting them catch in his fiery pelt as he descended further into it's depths. If nothing else, there had to be some sort of basin for collecting rainwater right?
His assumptions proved to be correct. As they descended, they happened upon a modest pond lying in the center of the room. The walls sloped downward into this small basin and he hopped down a few stones to sniff at the surface of the pool. It was stagnant, but it seemed clean. He tested it, lapping lightly at the water. Tasted fine.
He tipped his head towards the puddle, inviting her to enjoy the refreshments. Paw over paw, Kero eased himself into the water until he was standing in it. Even at it's deepest depth, his head was still well above the surface and submerged no higher than the surface. But it was cool. Relaxing. He moved aside, slipping back into the shallows to take a load off his feet and soak for the time being.
Their nails gently clicked against the cavern floor. Her eyes adjusted slowly, but adjust they did; soon she too could note the mosses and the other herbal items here and there. What they were used for, if anything, she did not know. But her mate would. He did not seem intrigued by any one plant in particular, so she kept with him. Where there was green, Tonravik understood that somewhere there must be water.
Her mate was quick to find water. His gesture was largely missed as the thirsty woman moved to it; stagnant, but sitting not nearly so long as the water at one of their squat sierra's peaks. So she freely drank from it, even as the flame moved to cool himself in it. The leader herself at last let herself lay and rest her limbs, forelegs lingering in the cool waters. She lapped at her forelegs idly, looking to the superficial cut upon one of them that was healing well. Her eyes then moved to her mate, watching him relax.
She sipped and settled. Kerosene, relaxed in the waters, basking in their cool temperatures as he ran one paw over the slick stone beneath him. It felt weird beneath his paw and so he rubbed the unfamiliar texture absentmindedly until the algae wore off and left the stone somewhat disfigured.
He looked to her. "We haven't spoke of it, but I must apologize for Zhavvi. The second plains wolf. I did not expect her to be so reckless." He remembered that look she'd given him when he'd told the girl to run. The time to speak of it had not yet come, but he remembered that unhad discussion and resurfaced it now. Better to clear the air than to leave it thick between them.
"I encountered her on my travels. Sparred with her. Ran into her again a few weeks ago and since she seemed somewhat amicable I thought I might use the opportunity to gain insight on her people. She taught me a couple words. Run? I taught her that one. Outside of that, she doesn't speak a lick of the common tongue and understands nothing."
He continued. "I take care to mask my origins when I travel. I'm not sure how she followed me back or thought to look for me at the Spine, but she came and must have thought, in knowing me, that she could enter without consequence. She thought wrong. It will not happen again."
He began to speak, and Tonravik listened with apt interest. This had been a discussion that they had needed to have, though there had been little time to have it. Now, that time was found. Up until his last words she was quiet, and even afterward, she kept her silence as she thought. He spoke of gaining insight, which was smart, which she could understand. It was insight she wanted. And she did not doubt that her mate had been careful; but then, there were dispersal wolves who sought mates and were relentless in their pursuit. Perhaps she had been one of them.
She thought wrong. She hadn't been too off base, since he had breathed the very word he had taught her. "I do not care that she found you." Inevitably, they would be found by one wolf. Be it her, her pack mate, or another. She looks at the thin line on her foreleg, wondering how to tell him her thoughts. "You would let her run," comes her voice, "You would suggest it after her fangs have touched our brother." This came out in a disgusted snarl, and now her eyes fall onto him. Could he explain that to her? For she would spare none who lay fang against she and hers, and that he could think to... and the injuries could have been worse, had they not arrived when they did, the wound deeper, fatal. But he had showed compassion. It will not happen again.
He spoke. She heard him. The silence between them stretched as she contemplated them and forgave part of the incident, but not all. His ears fell. He was at fault here, he knew. His time for learning of her ways and expectations of the pack needed to come quickly and there was very little room for error on his part. He knew her rule. Death to anyone who tempted their privacy. No questions asked. Still... he could not help but to think letting this wolf go had been a better decision at the time.
"I would. Once," he admitted. "I do not know of her status within the plains pack, but she is young and seems entitled. I do not think her death would be without consequence for us." But wait. There was more. "Likewise, our brother engaged in full combat without howling for support. Without alerting those in which he'd found a home. If her fangs had ended him and she had not howled, she would have gotten further than she did.
"When we accepted him he said he would learn what it meant to work as a team and he immediately went rogue. His wounds are a fitting reminder of what it means to work alone." In his eyes, it was a justified punishment for his failure of not acting like a member of a pack. "Those same wounds were just as much his fault as they were hers."
Again she listened, though perhaps this time with less patience. It was true that she was not a patient woman, and in this, her anger had rooted in her and blossomed insidiously within. That showed now. Tonravik was able, this time, to wait until he finished.
She was silent for a lesser amount of time than she had been before, because it was clear she agreed. Arverk ought to have called to them, the pack. But they both knew the male had plenty of learning to do. "If he died, he died," she hummed, "The strong survive. It is we who will show him the way. Whoever she is outside is not who she is in our home: a dead woman." Consequences be damned. "I did not kill my plains wolf because it was time to see what we were up against," not because she was soft. "and I tell you now: I will kill them all if they come to us again." One by one. Little by little. Many or few. Son or daughter. Brother of sister. She would expect no different treatment of them toward she and hers.
Those who made to trespass against them would find only death, now.
There was passion in her eyes. An intense and burning anger that spoke of what drove her actions so frequently. The strong survived. Her home was her home and everything inside of it was hers to protect. He understood it. Heck, he even agreed with it. Now that it was his job to do the same he would uphold the same law and order she spoke of, but his world was no so black and white. He'd not been so quick to kill if only because he'd found room for error. This time? Their bases were covered. There was no room for mercy and he could be content in that.
She finished speaking. Kerosene rose, moving through the water so that he stood before her. He lowered himself, dropping his nose just beyond the stretch of her paws as he turned to gaze up into her eyes. "We can. We will," he spoke, determined that such consequences would befall a plains wolf should they chance their borders again. "No hesitation. No second chances." They'd been warned. They'd been shown the risks of happening upon their home. The spine was not a place to be taken lightly. Their window of mercy had expired.
Quick as a snake, he darted upward and licked at her nose. "Come bathe with me," he prompted, inviting her to join him in the pool. His tail lifted, waving behind him as the conversation switched from seriousness to something where they could enjoy their time together. "I need help cleaning behind my ears."
Her eyes were hard, and she more than a little cold.
But he spoke things to her that had always been more than words. It was something they made good on whenever it was said. “We can. We will.” she nods. There was more at stake now than the lives of their adopted brethren who in every sense of the word was her family. Now, the lives of those within counted on them. How lucky for them she was not a woman who ever broke her promises.
No second chances. No. They would die. Any and all who tempted fate would meet theirs. She looked complacent, now, as he looked to her. Tonravik watched him and did not withdraw as his tongue hit its mark, though she let out a large sneeze as it had tickled.
His invitation was met with a thoughtful look. She was a wolf; she bathed as frequently as a wolf did, though she supposed one was due. Tonravik rose to slip into the waters beside him, though shoved her ears well in his face as though to say, me, first.
She sneezed and rose. Kero lifted, moving to allow her space as she stepped into the water. It surprised him, this compliance. He'd been almost certain she would have found something of this nature unnecessary. So often his suggestions were met with her stony disposition and a lack of understanding if wishes or whims did not happen to fall into the category of immediate needs. This surprise was evident on his face as she stepped into the water. And when she presented her ears? He shook his head, laughing softly.
"Of course," he murmured and took to grooming her. He worked his teeth through the tangles in her fur and erased their travels from their skin. Here and there he splashed water upon her, adding a little extra support to his endeavors until he had her looking somewhat more presentable. Or at least... in as much so as was possible with a wolf of her rather... extreme complexion.
All the same, he contented himself with her appearance at tipped his ears as she'd done before. His turn.
Tonravik closed her eyes as he preened behind her ears, very nearly falling asleep. Their trip here had been a long one, and well trained as she was, they had still carried a body here. Tonravik let him near the base of her ears and all around them, and let out a huff when he stopped, the heavy exhale rippling the waters.
The woman looked as he offered to her his ears, and Tonravik took to them as her mother took to her when her cubs were caked in mud and grime. Siku would push them into moving water, and pull roughly at the knots. Tonravik did much the same, wetting the area with her tongue, but tugging a bit roughly at the knatted fur, thinking herself doing a good job.
He was fairly certain she was trying to kill him. She lathered his crown with wet kisses and was at his head like an angry forest animal trying to bury or uncover a nut from his skull. He couldn't be sure which. What he did know, was that it hurt. He winced, resisting the pain of her tugging at his fur until he thought he might go bald from the way she pulled at the tangles in his fur. His pelt wasn't that bad was it? He generally did a decent job at this whole hygiene thing.
"Ah. Ah. Ah. Gentle," he hissed, pushing a paw against her shoulder to catch her attention. "Soft teeth. Work slowly. Start at the outside and work your way in." He set his foot back in the water and turned, giving her access to his fur once more. "I know you don't care about appearances, but I'd rather have some fur up there when you're done." He glanced at her over her shoulder, grinning, before he turned his gaze elsewhere. "Gen-tle."
She stopped as his actions gathered her attention. Gentle. Such a word she had never heard. Soft teeth? ...she tried, though the single knot left took longer to tame than the rest. Tonravik preferred her way, she decided. But once the leader was finished, she moved out of the water and flopped exhaustedly on her side.
The leader left a space for him at her side, but so tired was she that Tonravik could not know whether or not he joined her promptly or lingered in the water. The leader was somewhat aware, but had fallen into a tired slumber.
She tried. He couldn't say it was the gentlest of grooming he'd ever received, but after her first efforts there was a significant improvement. He let her work on the tangles in his fur and when she'd had enough she moved aside and decided it was time to call it a day. Kero lingered in the water and ran his paws over the rest of him, washing out the rest of his fur and cleaning that dusty plains scent from his hide before he pulled himself out of the water on the opposite side of the pond.
He shook his coat out, careful to keep his distance so as not to disturb her sleeping form. He glanced at her for a moment, watching as she slept before he turned to find a ray of sunshine. He sat in it for a while, basking in the warm glow to dry out the rest of his pelt. He soon found himself nodding off and decided it was time to call it quits for good. Lifting from this spot, he moved and settled next to his mate to sleep.
-fade thread-