Dragoncrest Cliffs you do more thinking and I'll go out and make it alright [j]

tagging @Thuringwethil for visibility <33 (& @Dio, @Eske ? haha)

He has separated from Mirabelle along his voyage up the coast. The man cannot blame her after what he has learned of her past; as they moved, the scent of pack had lured Étoille closer, and pushed her further yet away. And although their voyage together had been short, he can not help himself from feeling some strange yearning to find her again. Not enough to change his mind in the course of his desired actions here, but - perhaps one day he could seek her out again. There is, after all, the matter of her protection, which oddly enough he feels somewhat responsible for. (And yet she escaped on her own, and will manage just fine without him, he thinks.)

Pulling thoughts away from the delicate woman and onto the present, Étoille reflects on his last time at a pack's borders. It had been... unnecessarily dramatic and he hopes the transaction this time will be easy enough - as always, he is oblivious to any anxieties about proving himself. The man is intrigued by the pack's borders - he has been careful to stay reasonably out of bounds, but he can't quite stop watching the sea from over the jut of the cliffs in the distance. There is something about the power in standing atop the ocean that appeals to him.

Well. No need to draw this out. Carefully the man tips back his head and lets out a call - seeking authority to appeal to.

The pale-furred wocha was not far from the howl's origins. As it would seem, his round had steered him well wide around their boundaries near there. A faint whiff of coyote had been worth a second look, after all, but for the time being it checked out as clear—to be revisited, reinforced more, and watched further. For now, he was more apt to go investigate who came calling on their fringes today, especially with concerns high, and patrolling wolves already spread thinner than he cared for. So, to him, Dio would make good time.

As his pathway neared the stately male, his own tail arced upwards and he circled in closer. So many times, he kept his expectations of callers relatively low, but this one had sensibilities enough to call for them. Plus, sight, and smell, of him at least piqued his curiosities well enough to want to hear more, instead of chasing him right off. There was a slight chance he may know of Wildfire and Arlo, too, so Dio bore it, and kept his mind open—in the event it may be good news, however slim a chance that could be. "Why have you come?" he asked when he had drawn near enough to stop his paws, then leveled the stranger with a mismatched, expectant stare.

The response is quick, which pleases the beast. Not that he would have minded a longer wait, but - it shows life. The man who appears to question him is respectably large. Étoille rearranges himself into a suitably submissive posture, his head inclined. As always he is slightly thrown off by the questions asked (the man has never been very good at putting his intentions into words), but he clears his throat and speaks concisely as he can. "I .. seek to join your ranks," is the simplest he can offer. He is.. unsure of how to sell himself, though he feels the man must be expecting something. "I am Étoille. Bien sûr, I can hunt and offer myself as.." he pauses, "er, whatever you've need for." It is, perhaps, inelegant, but it is a start.

sorry, short!

He is more than ready to keep the flow of this meeting moving. Dio had been quick to come upon him, so he is satisfied by the natural progression of the next favorable steps. So far, he can find no reason to run him off—he's mindful, and had readily revealed himself as a potential new addition (in a time when they could use them, no less). That kept this going, so the wocha held him in a new light, one intended to find out his greater worth. "I see. Why here, why Drageda?" he asked with a matching gesture towards the territory to his back, prying, and trying to use the time to understand the stranger better while he watched him after namedropping the pack. Some approached with a little history, others did not. Dio didn't base his judgements entirely on one over another, he just liked to know.

He hadn't missed the subtle hint of something foreign to his tongue, either, although he did not yet ask what it was. Not yet while far more heavier matters were at hand: they did need hunters, warriors, and more—both to bolster their own strength and help mentor their growing younglings. Winter approached, after all.. whether they would be prepared or not, so turning aside a capable new hunter now would be their disadvantage—especially if Wildfire stayed gone, although he was not so keen to prepare for that reality already. "Hunters, certainly. How about guard work? What else would you call yourself good at?" he asked, investigating deeper.

Though he feels slightly squeamish under the male's inspecting gaze, Étoille's expression does not waver from politely neutral. He gains the name of this pack, finally - Drageda. He likes how solid it sounds. "In truth, I have been wandering for some time," the man says plainly, "and I feel it is time to settle. The coast led me here." It is maybe an irony that of all the named packs he encountered or was offered shelter with, he ends up on the doorstep of one he'd not even known the name of, or lifestyle. But as always, the behemouth finds it easy to entrust himself to fate. He has finally arrived where he is meant to.

At the man's next question, Étoille casts a self-appraising look down at his own form. His confidence would be the winner here. "Oui, I can guard for you. I am also accustomed to long travel," he says. "So I can offer myself as a scout of any sort." He had not seen himself a fit with the semi-nomadic model Ty had offered him, but trips seem acceptable - the point is that he's a base to return to eventually.

For all his efforts in looking, he is not able to find any reasons to be disappointed. Even if he does not come here knowing of the pack prior, Dio's never been too overly impressed with all those that have anyway. So far, he still seems worth a shot—well-rounded enough to work in various niches, it seems, which bodes well for his favor when there is always so much to be done. He fits the picture of who he could see doing well here, should a sound mind accompany the body.

In his own personal recent menagerie of potential joiners, he has already come further than many. There lurked an urge to make him prove it, but better sense, for now, ruled against it in favor of time and energy alike. He has minded himself, done nothing to rile his suspicions so far, and perhaps more than anything, appealed just enough to keep the Drakru keen to him. "Good," he appraised with a small nod, hopeful that he may be of use if they went searching for clues on their misplaced comrades, which Dio did not doubt could come very soon. When it did, they would need capable parties out on the road and here as well. "The capable, and the loyal, may make their place here. Contributors rise well, those who lag don't. It is a formidable territory here at the seaside, but well worth it," he smirked subtly, believing the coast did well to lead Étoille here, and gestured vaguely to his back.

"Our claim is called Dragoncrest Cliffs, and our commander—Heda—leads us." Without being generous on the details of her right away, he implied her importance. Her word was law here and should he remain, he would know this. "Alongside her is Fleimkepa, then Wocha—myself, Dio." More information, dashed with a few items of interest that would likely catch his ear with the language of their pack. "If it still interests you, I don't think you need me to spell out every detail."

Near-black eyes follow the man's gesture toward the cliffsides. Formidable is a word of strength, and apt as well. Étoille nods seriously, glancing back as he is given the name of the territory. A series of strange words follow, and he blinks, processing: heda, fleimkepa, wocha. "Wocha," he murmurs the last aloud to himself - perhaps an affliction of carrying multiple half-learned tongues, the word turns slightly latin from him, into something like woh-sha. "Dio," he repeats, again, then dips his head acceptingly. "Yes. Thank you," he adds. "I look forward to proving myself."

For as well as he can tell, it all seemed to settle with him. When he tested the new language--his title--on his tongue, Dio nods approvingly. "The watcher, roughly," he translated while the topic was at hand. He oversaw his patrols and so much more beneath the title, although he always deferred to heda at the end of it all. "I head protection, and a bit of offense when needed. The language here comes from the commander's homeland. Several do speak it, but not all. It is not difficult to catch onto as you hear more," he detailed as simply as he could summarize it so Étoille wouldn't be blindsided by it when the time came. He himself had learned it well enough to function just by being exposed to it, and a good share of practice when he could get it. The similarities it shared with other languages he already knew certainly helped.

"You're welcome, I'm hopeful to hear it. Sometime soon, we should spar, but in the meantime, we are short a guardian lately." Dio mentioned although he had already alluded to his want of more work tending to their edges. He did not know if this was temporary yet, but more than once in the recent weeks, he felt the sting of Arlo's absence on their marks. "Any questions?" he asked, letting it be a touch more open-ended then now that the roughest part of his interrogation had come to pass.

Étoille listens to the explanation patiently, offering a nod - it is good to know, after all, what the Wocha's role is. It is also good to know more of the language, though he does not know how much he will actually retain. His mother's tongue still lies half-learned in his mouth. Adding a new, harsher sound on top will be.. interesting.

Dio notes that they are short a guardian and the titan tilts his head thoughtfully. The duality of his nature is thus: despite his impressive stature, Étoille is not by nature a fighter, and has never been particularly pressed to learn such skills. Despite this, he is one-hundred-percent confident in his ability to perform these skills due to his general over-confidence (some would dare say arrogance). At any rate, it is an ironic tension he himself is unaware of, and so he accepts the future challenge willingly, rumbling, "I will look forward to it." As for questions, "at the moment, I do not believe so," he says, ever straightforward. He is sure there will come a time for him to prove himself - if only he knew exactly how soon!

When he had nothing else to answer, it seemed, he would see this to its end and let the newcomer experience their territory and the cliffs firsthand. Settling in was only the first step to finding a comfortable stride and role here, which Dio would come to expect from him sooner, rather than later-- but he was hopeful. He seemed like a good potential addition to their strength. With everything going on and himself feeling spread thin, they just didn't have time for dawdling.