The woodlands, vibrately painted in colors of green and brown was given a golden aura against the dusk skyline as the sun descended into the crust of the earth. She'd been walking for hours, exploring what these Wilds had to offer her, though she understood that she likely hadn't covered remotely half of it yet. In truth, she was in no hurry. She felt no pressure to run and join the first pack's scent she'd came across; the prey of summer was plentiful and she was a capable hunter. Big game was avoided, lest she managed to not only stumble but coax fellow loners into going after one with her. That didn't happen often, which wasn't a bad thing, Tatum reflected. The last time she'd pitched in with two other wolves to take down an elk they'd cheated her out of her fair share. Reckless as she was, Tatum had doubled back when they'd bedded down for the night and left her mark on the pair before stealing more than her half of the elk. It had been cumbersome to drag away a distance that she had felt confident that she could eat in peace but the pair hadn't came after her; a fact that hadn't particularly upset her. Tatum didn't enjoy killing her own species, but it was survival of the fittest and she wasn't looking to lose that fight.

Tatum paused in her steps then, glimpsing once at the break in the canopy above to study what it allowed her to see of the rapidly darkening sky. There was something slightly claustrophobic about not being able to see the night sky in all it's raw beauty but, for now, this territory was ideal. It was an ideal hunting ground and an ideal place to bunker down for the night. Silver eyes returned to her chosen path, bowing her head towards the bracken covered earthen floor to sniff at the scents it offered to her. Dirt, spices of the woodland, and the nut-like, sweet scent of the small woodland creatures scuttling about below and above her. She inhaled deeply and let it out in a slow exhale, agouti brown tail flicking absently behind her as she studied the sentinel trees around her, before she started forth again, her steps leisurely this time, slower than before.

FitzDutiful was out tracking today, tracking down scents of wolves that belonged nowhere in the hopes to convince them to belong a particular somewhere. On his patrol out of the mountain lands, he caught the scent of one such wolf wandering into the heartwood and took it upon himself to follow her. He made sure to make a bit of noise - the last thing he wanted was for her to think he was going to attack her - for wolves were a bit tense around here of late. He didn't didn't know the reason why but it was more important than ever that he not get hurt out of the pack lands.

As he neared the brown female he glanced her over. She looked as though she would be a good hunter, ideal for the situation they were in now where the pups needed food more than ever. If one believed that only the fittest survive then his children must be the kings and queens of that for they were surviving while the odds stacked higher and higher. At least they were almost out of the most danger, they just needed to survive a few more moons.

"Hi there." he said, wondering if she would be interested in the slightest. "I'm FitzDutiful, alpha of Silvertip Mountain." He left it at that for now, allowing her chance to introduce herself.

The presence of other wolves (or creatures for that matter) didn't particularly come as much of a surprise to Tatum considering though her attention had been dismissal at best in regards to the pack that inhabited this part of the Wilds she was not entirely unaware of their presence, after all. Measures had to be taken to avoid their borders, after all. The very last thing Tatum wanted was to be attacked for ignoring (or being ignorant of) borders. So she knew of their existence but beyond that couldn't be bothered to much care, at the moment. Tatum had known that it wasn't as if she'd had the entire forest to herself, but it still came as a slight surprise — having been caught off guard, (foolishly) unaware as she swaggered though sentinel trees and shrugging through brush — footfalls had become louder, heavier and then with what seemed like a blink of her silver eyes and a cock of her head to the right she was staring at ivory wolf peppered with brown. They were about the same height though he was buff as fuck, compared to her wiry muscles. She'd always desired to keep her muscles firmer than what was considered 'feminine' by Foxhound's standards if only because she was 'non-binary' in sophisticated terms but in layman's terms: she didn't associate with either gender in particular despite her “birth” gender. Her options were limited so she worked with what she'd been given because it was what she had.

“Hey,” Tatum responded to the stranger's initial greeting, offering a coy little smirk as she finished admiring him. She appreciated his masculinity (perhaps in a way that might have been a little bit envious) but she wasn't looking with what could have been perceived as interest. Not only was he impressively ripped, he was also an Alpha, she learned as he introduced himself; which begged the internal question of why he was away from his pack (it failed to compute in Tatum's brain that alpha(s) do have lives outside of their packs — somewhat), and why he was taking the time to talk to her if it wasn't something overly important that involved his kingly presence; because she sure as hell wasn't important. A sarcastic and witty loner with the mouth of a sailor. “Tatum,” She offered with a casual nod of her head. “So what's a big shot like you doin' around here talking to nobodies like me?” Tatum inquired, verbally teasing him in a 'poking fun' kind of way. She didn't necessarily see herself as a “nobody” she had as much worth as Mr. Dutiful here, but surely he had better things he could be doing? Or maybe he didn't, and her question invited him to explain his purpose of greeting her, whether it was just a casual 'oh, i'll stop and just say hi' or for something else she had yet to know.

Tatum was her name, it invoked the sense in him that Raissa's had when he had first heard her name for, to him, it seemed connected. Maybe Raissa's leaving was pre-empting Tatum's joining? The thought ripped his heart in two but he didn't show any signs of it outwardly. It was too raw for him to be thinking of a new mate, a new love interest, but she sure did appeal in a physical way to him. Her humour was intriguing too and he felt the same instant attraction that he had felt towards Kerosene. He wanted someone with this kind of energy in his pack.

"Well, you-know..." he said, the tease apparent in his voice, "Looking for pretty wolves to recruit to my pack. We're in need of some ladies of your calibre." It came despite himself, a natural flirt? It was something that he had never thought within himself. He thought over his past encounters with other wolves and supposed that his encounter with Kero would have classified as flirting had he been female - or had FitzDutiful been interested in males. It was quite possibly how he reacted to this personality type and he didn't much care.

Despite how much he was hurting from Raissa's departure he was also seeking distraction. Distraction by the way of some good fortune would be ideal, but even just banter would do him for now. The man, never good at hiding his attraction, openly looked Tatum up and down as he assessed her internally. He had no clue that she had done the same to him.

Tatum wasn't sure what she was expecting from the alpha of Silvertip — where ever the fuck that was, she mentally added — as far as responses went but it hadn't been his easy acceptance of her type of humor and blunt personality. In Foxhound Falls, she'd been often frowned down upon (for multitudes of reasons) but mostly because her personality was too loud and colorfu for their personal tastes, so perhaps Tatum had been expecting, subconsciously, some sort of irritated, angry rise out of Fitzdutiful. What she got instead was so much better. He didn't take offense to her humor, instead returned it with a tease of his own. Uncommon in two strangers, but Tatum wasn't shy and didn't try to candy coat herself. First impressions were nothing but the truth: she didn't try to impress on the sole basis of wanting to look perfect or whatever the fuck other wolves went for (it wasn't like she knew their minds). If she impressed: then awesome. If they took offense to her: better to end it before it could even begin. At his drop of the word 'pretty' (she wasn't offended, she rolled with 'pretty' or 'handsome') she looked over her left shoulder and then her right shoulder, as if she were looking for this 'pretty girl' he made mention to. “If you see a pretty girl around here, let me know dude,” She said seriously and then broke out in a grin that was wicked enough to give the devil pause. “Oh shit,” She snorted. “You mean me. Well thanks, stud,” She purled at him, a soft bubble of laughter rumbling in her chest.

“So you're looking to recruit huh?” She should have guessed it. She wasn't privy to what the Alpha types did when they were outside their pack lands but recruiting was probably one of the main reasons they ventured out. A subordinate could recruit, in theory, but they couldn't accept and she'd rather be recruited by the wolf leading her than someone who may rank higher than her. “Ladies of my caliber, huh?” She teased him, drawing a soft 'hmm' in contemplation, glimpsing up at the canopy above. “What kind of caliber is that? I mean my skills could be shit, for all you know.” She had several skills, some she would readily admit and others she intended to keep close, because she had to have secrets. She was just continuing their game of poking fun, figuring she might as well enjoy it while it lasted. After all, she had no idea when she would come across another wolf like him who took her humor and personality all in good nature. 

Tatum was loud and fierce, bold, crude and rough around the edges but she had her heart in the right place (usually). Tatum's silver eyes studied him as he studied her, not unaware of the flirtatious way in which he'd spoken. For now, she drew no attention to it, figuring if he really knew about her that he probably would abruptly wish he hadn't sounded so flirtatious. It was an ignorant assumption to make but considering she'd seen nothing so far in her short two years of life to speak any different, Tatum was apt to assume away. 

She responded well, he was thankful for that. It was a risky game, that sense of humour and he remembered - maybe falsely - Kero had been surprised to find it returned from him too. It appeared not everyone had such a sense of humour and FitzDutiful didn't understand why. He wasn't exactly a humorous wolf - if one asked him to come up with a joke he would flounder and fail like a fish on dry land - but he knew how to verbally spar and give back what was given. He had his warden training for defence, but his counsellor skills had given him the necessary requirements for the battle of minds and he much preferred that to the physical trials. It was something else to have the wits about you to respond to one intelligently.

When Tatum started laughing, FitzDutiful let a smile beam across his face as well. He didn't say anything, giving her time to respond to the recruitment request that he had given her but he wanted her to know that he was comfortable in this field - in this battle ground. Out of all the wolves that he had met only two had this wit about them and he so desperately wanted one around him at all times to keep him on his toes. All thoughts of his current dilemma vanished.

As she coyed with him, flirted with him, asked him what it was about her calibre that he wanted, he promptly sat on the floor. Portraying that he wasn't going anywhere any time soon. He looked at her, studied her openly, but in a scholarly appraising way this time. FitzDutiful took a few moments to put his counsellor training to the test.

"You're a lone wolf and yet you keep yourself in good shape. You're not bedraggled or tattered so you can obviously feed yourself making you a good hunter. With the muscles that you have on you " — a sly raising of a wolfish eyebrow to hint at what else he saw in those muscles she had — "you could make good use of as a warden or a warrior - both or either as is your preference." They were all physical trades that he picked up on, they were the easiest to assess for it was all in front of your eyes. It was harder to see the softer trades - the counsellors, chroniclers, caretakers - from someone's appearance alone. He didn't have a good enough sense of her to suggest any of those skills.

Not yet but her response to his words could open the door.

Tatum felt the subtle quirk of her brow line when he sat, abruptly, on the earthen floor of the woods they currently inhabited. That simple action told Tatum that he had no intentions of going anywhere, and after a few moments of deliberation — after all the longer she humored him the more chance she had to getting sucked in to being recruited — slowly lowered herself upon her own haunches, her tail sweeping the leaf and bracken littered ground beneath her once before it stilled. It had been a long time she'd came across someone who could appreciate her level of humor and she felt the draw, even if the defiant beastie inside her screamed for her to 'get the fuck out'. Just because she hadn't been actively searching for a pack didn't mean she would so readily turn an offer away if it came her way. Sure, it wasn't a pressure issue now, but summer and plentiful prey wouldn't last forever and winter would force her into bitterly making a choice against her will. Perhaps, it wasn't such a bad thing to lay her options out on the table now — while time was still something she had. It was easy for Tatum to flirt, to toss around coquette behavior if because she flirted with everyone. When it came to lovers she took male or females, and she had no set criteria except they had to accept her for who she was (and if they were affronted by her they certainly wouldn't be open to being lovers anyway). Tatum didn't want to change and didn't want to have personal change imposed upon her. She couldn't help how she felt, and she believed that “love” — though she found the word to be nothing short of a crux — was blind. It was gender-less.

Tatum's velveteen ears cupped forth when FitzDutiful spoke laying out his assessment for her. He had a keen eye, she had to give him that. “Maybe I'm just a priss,” She teased, though she was impressed with what he'd deduced, mentally admitting that he wasn't wrong. She was capable. It was a funny image: imagining herself being all stuck up. Being “prissy” wasn't her thing. “My muscles aren't shit compared to yours, mr. buff as fuck,” She voiced her previous nickname for him allowed with a soft snort of amusement, though she was envious of his build. She was just...androgynous, neither too feminine or too masculine. “but I do keep myself fit, as you said. You've got a good eye,” Which meant she had no real reason to really say 'no'; and who knew if the offer would still be around if she managed to convince herself that she needed to check out her options. 

“Foxhound trained me in both,” She had no preference for one or the other, would take whatever the pack needed as a trade because it made the most sense when she didn't want to choose one over the other. “So are you offering me a place or what, handsome?” Might as well cut to the chase, right?

The silence hung in the air for a while, but not in such a way that would be deemed awkward, and it hadn't passed his notice that she was also sat - maybe she was considering this more seriously that he had anticipated. She may not consider herself a female but there was no way for FitzDutiful to know this. The scent on the air was that of a female for those were the organs she was born with and there was indication that she identified differently, or indifferently, in the conversation that he had had already. Even if he had known, it wouldn't have bothered FitzDutiful in the slightest it would have only encouraged his desire to get to know her better.

Tatum jumped straight to the question of whether he wanted to recruit her and FitzDutiful looked over her androgynous figure before nodding his head. "Yes, I believe I am." To someone else he might have given the offer to use his pack as a stopping point but he didn't bother with Tatum. He wasn't entirely convinced that it would encourage her to accept and pack systems only existed as long as both the pack and the wolf got enough out of it. If that were to ever not be the case then the said wolf would be allowed to leave peacefully - FitzDutiful did not hold that over others.

"Fancy accepting?" he asked, wondering if she would say no straight away - rejection was more common when the wolves didn't come to the mountain seeking a home. As for future talking points, Foxhound intrigued him - a previous pack he assumed but not one that he had ever heard of before. Just another part of the mystery to delve into.

FitzDutiful's answer was as straight forward as her question had been — something that Tatum that could wholeheartedly say that she preferred. She didn't believe in beating around the proverbial bush and hated when others danced around what they really wanted to say. She enjoyed the thrill of battling her wits and cynicism as much as the next sarcastic creature out there but she also liked knowing where things stood, having everything laid out neatly on the table for her. Tatum was silent for a while, letting it drift between them as she contemplated his words. Pledging herself to a pack, so soon after arriving in these Wilds didn't give her the opportunity to directly check out the other packs; yet on the other side of that spectrum: where was she going to find a chill Alpha like FitzDutiful? The odds were always against Tatum (she learned the hard way) when it came to how well she was received. Silvertip might have realistically been her only option, for all she knew; and what if she rejected him and found out what she already suspected as true? What if his offer had a limited window? She didn't like pressure, being a very free-spirit as she was. Tatum walked to the beat of her own drum, which often held it's own complications. Her march rarely picked up in it's intensity unless it was absolutely needed — but she despised being pressured into situations.

Her ears slicked back to rest at half mast atop her skull for a few seconds before they slowly rose back up to rest alert atop the crown of her skull. Worst case scenario was she didn't like it; or that Mr. buff as fuck wasn't as chill in his own lands as he was out here, removed from the pressures of his kingship. She wouldn't be chained to the place, and could freely leave if she hated it (not without repercussions, surely, but still). “Eh, why the hell not?” Tatum accepted casually in her Tatum-esque way with a lofty roll of her shoulders. “I'll give you and your Silvertip a try.” Becuase, she couldn't, as she feared earlier, think of a reason as to say 'no'.

Silence.

It echoed around him and caused his words to be played over and over again in his head. The offer was on the table and now was the time when the paths diverged in alternate realities. Tatum might choose to say no, happy in life as a lone wolf leaving him with the option of offering her a place closer to winter - if she came back. She might say yes and return with him to Silvertip Mountain, hopefully to become part of the family atmosphere FitzDutiful wanted instilled in his pack. She might not answer and turn the conversation into something else entirely - a no, probably, but without the certainty.

For the briefest of moments all these possibilities existed at once. They all happened as her mouth began to open and the words began to manipulate the air waves on their journey to his ears and his brain processed them.

Why not? It took him a moment to realise that meant yes. It wasn't until her continuation of that statement that he realised he had successfully recruited her to his pack and now would get the chance to know her better. Smiling, he looked at her and his tail began to wag. "I'm glad. It'll give me a better chance to get to know you and more opportunities to verbally, and physically, spar with you." His eyes twinkled at the concept for physically sparring, suggesting something more than just training as a potential possibility.

"Want me to give you the personal tour of the mountain now or would you rather wait a bit?" They weren't all that far away, but he understood if Tatum had something she wanted to do before heading off. He would happily wait, meet her there, whichever.

It was something of a unorthodox concept to Tatum: someone actually wanting her in their pack. Though it was extremely likely if she looked closer at his offer she might have came to the assumption that it was simply because his Silvertip needed more bodies to occupy it; but even if it would have been true it would have been a start. Foxhound hadn't really wanted her but kept her because she was useful, simply they blanketed her non-binary, bisexual “oddness” (as the alpha of Foxhound had so politely put it once) and in the process nearly smothered her to death (perhaps literally). She hadn't been in the best place shortly before she decided to leave Foxhound, torn because she wanted her freedom without being oppressed for being who she was, but hesitant because Foxhound had been all she'd known. Leaving Foxhound had been the best decision she'd ever made, though. 

FitzDutiful smiled at her when she'd accepted his offer. Tatum's answering smile had border-lined cheeky as it played at the corners of her lips. With his tail wagging like that, she was reminded of an excited pup, despite that Mr. Buff as fuck was obviously very much an adult. “I've been told I've got a mean ass bite.” In which she took pride in. She was devious enough to play dirty when it came to sparring, using feigns and her “feminine” appeal that she was aware of to try to grasp her advantage; and she might have “all bark” but she was also “all bite”. Tatum's ex-lover had also said that her 'mean ass bite' made her a rough lover, but she didn't share that with FitzDutiful. Even as a joke it would have been too personal. 

“I've got nothing to see to,” She had no ties in these Wilds, and no one to inform. The rebel was more alone than she'd ever been, but instead of finding it lonely she had reveled in it. “Lead on,” She encouraged with a gesture of her muzzle, silver eyes gleaming with her typical mischief.

The formalities over and the teasing had come back to them both - it sparked in her eyes the same was he felt as he lead the way back to the mountain. FitzDutiful sincerely hoped that Tatum would like life as part of the mountain and, had he known her thought about whether he was the same, he would have been proud to announce he was. It was extremely rare that FitzDutiful had to throw down the alpha gauntlet, he had done it only once with Bindi when he had revoked her beta status from the pack. The new wolves wouldn't know that, and the ones who did weren't likely to hold that over Bindi anyhow - they were a family unit (or so he loved to think).

As they walked, and chattered, FitzDutiful was thinking of places to show. He would make sure to include the cache's and the important destination points. The back entrance cavern and the waterfall as well as informing her of - and briefly introducing Tatum to - the pups. His mate was no longer in the picture, no longer an issue, but he still put his children above anything and anyone. They were the pack's future after all.