Stone Circle godless and free - Printable Version

It bothered him that @Valette had decided to go on an adventure away from the hollow, especially when they all knew of a volatile creature roaming the area. There was no way to be certain that it was safe, and he had wanted to insist that she depart with an entourage (she was the alpha after all) but he never had the chance. That meant @Nanook was left in charge, and it was up to the rest of the pack to back her up - something that Larus would do readily. The Sveijarn was already doing extra shifts along the borders. He was out for longer excursions along the fringes of the territory, marking and re-marking, hoping that all would be well.

Some might've seen his marking as an insult to Valette, perhaps. The young man was not well versed in the culture of pack wolves after so many days on his own, but he had no negative intentions - this was his home, but he wasn't about to usurp the place from his friend. Eventually though, his path around Easthollow was dotted with Larus-scented marks that could be argued in opposition of this.

Without Valette's presence among Easthollow Stark found himself settling into a familiar routine. His scent was strong on the borders, joining Nanook and another he did not know. He had split his time between border patrol and playing Mr. Mom, keeping the children safe and sound while Val was on her mission for Nikai. Despite his initial feelings on his place in the pack Stark was growing more antsy. He was settled and it was equally disturbing to him Just when had he let that happen?

Some part of him felt he should do more - be more than he was - and that part was as loud as the cracks of antlers as the bucks warred with one another. Spring approached and with it the hormonal flux. Stark felt stiff legged and antsy, choosing to try and disperse his aggression in a hunt rather than on a packmate. He was stalking a fat hare, unaware of the approach of the other scent heavily lacing the borders.

Larus had not met many wolves within Easthollow despite the days which had passed since his inception; he had spent a bulk of that time traveling north in search of the herds though, so he couldn't really be expected to recognize everyone. When his eyes fell upon the figure of a wolf clad in black, his first thought was of Valette - that she had come home early from her excursion, perhaps heeded his warning to take along an escort - and the young man picked up the pace to greet her.

It wasn't until he was intercepting Stark's position (which, come to think of it, looked a bit more like a lurk or a stalk, which should've given him a clue as to what the man was up to) that he realized it wasn't Valette at all. It was someone larger and decidedly less feminine. Oh, he blurted, you're not Valette.