Cry had only just come to this sect of the woods a few times now, but every time he came, he was inclined to stay and somehow manage to bring all of his members thus far to this place. It held some venture of significance, the random assortment of boulders tha gave a perch which oversaw atleast a foot down. This could serve as a prime meeting place.
The Keeper’s Meet.

As the Phantom came across such a conviction, the scent he had crossed, regardless of their prior cross, had still sent an orchestra of fear up his thick spine. The bear has led his life peacefully, not bothering the wolves once, but it seemed Cry couldn’t register the present over his past. 

Yet the onyx man was a logical one. And the only way to rid yourself of your demons was to challenge them, and win. So following the massive footprints through the fall leavings, he eventually found himself just below the beastly company, who stood content seemingly on what would be the heir’s stone. 

Peering up calmly at the ursine, the dark lupine offered a friendly hello, his tail swishing with no hesitation. Trying to do only positive vibes, the ebony murmured the greeting to the mountainous bear. 

“Hello,” he stated. “I’m Cry.” This was the first time he had attempted speaking to a bear, but from what he had gathered the first time they met, the two species shared completely different languages. Yet in the animal kingdom, food was life, and once he had exchanged his rabbit to the bear, offering sign that he encouraged the bear to live. 

Cry perked obsidian auds to the bear’s voice, the thunderous rumble a much deeper contrast against his quieter tones. However what mattered most was the bear’s accent, which switched with ease between their dialect and his. His name was pronounced crisply with the fade-away behind it, as it was meant to be. However the word afterwords was long, thick, and abrasive in rigidity. It must have been his name. 

Trying to match the lack of smooth edge which it was delivered while keeping the fluidity of how it was given, Cry repeated the bear’s intimidating title. “Kovertol.”

The thing which ruined Cry was the grin, to which was the utmost different between both bear and wolf. The wolf smiled with its whole body, while this bear had shown teeth, almost in a dangerous light. With a swallow, the assassin couldn’t return the smile the bear issued, as instinctually it would have been disrespectful. Instead, he offered the nicer company some more words, hoping the ursine wouldn’t mind conversation. But without much turmoil, Cry suspected their culture and dialect might prohibit them from being too close. But he had to try.

”Friend?” He asked, hoping the reaction would be far from him getting his face ripped off. Here he was, a wolf fully capable of killing others, but unable to face up to a predator above their tier. “Help?”

He had a favor to ask of the bear, and within every tendon was adrenaline on edge of being ignited. This bear was the strongest thing in these woods; if he could rely on Kovertol, much could be accomplished. But first things first.

How could he even try to begin crossing this kind of bridge? Was this even meant to happen? Nervous he would disappoint the bear with his overthinking, he took great relief in the beast allowing him to simply imply what he meant. With the puzzled face from before, Cry could see the grasp Kovertol had on his dialect. He would have to be as visual as possible. Taking the time to ensure the bear was with him, the dark prince kept a timely gait, a slow one, where the bear wouldn’t work off any of the fat it had worked hard to save up. As many times as he had come across hibernating bears, they pointedly needed their fat. Wolves had to continue the hunt through the season; there was no rest for them. With such power came ease behind it, apparently, since the bear could nap through a whole season.

Illustrating a good rub across the hearty half of the tree barks, Cry was trying to show marking, and he pointed his snout in the direction the majority of his pack had made their dens. He hoped Kovertol would be able to see Cry wanted him to scent the borders of the territory and look out for members in these woods. All of them bore his scent; it was rather indistinguishable. 

But he wanted this to be done in leisure, and not trying to rush the bear, he murmured, “I know you can’t understand me...but I’m going to be gone for a week and a half, if not two. I need you to look after these wolves until I come back...” Ears scaling back, he knew it was wrong to ask another for protection of his pack, but he had to go see Gwen, and give her updates. It was imperative. And if he didn’t, the others might reject her... but how could they reject such a pure soul? The dove was the gentlest the world had to offer.

”Watch over this land for me, Kovertol?” Pulling his gaze to the verdes of the gigantuous bear,his glacials asked what his tongue had. It teetered on the ridge of desperation, but not just yet.

Cry explained himself as best he could, but he knew the bear could not simply understand. However, the fog cleared as within those jade eyes, something akin to understanding shone through. It was an attempt on behalf of the bear to grasp the intricate need of the Wolf. The ursine had began to follow what he was doing, marking the trees, and even offered comfort to the nervous ex-Nightmare. It was a peaceful moment between the two, and Cry almost apprecriated it more than what he should have.

It was a fleeting moment, but with the concept down, Kovertol marked the trees as he saw fit, imbranding thick and pungent BEAR, MINE across the trunks with ease. The massive sway disappeared back into the epics of the forest where his den supposedly was, and Cry watched the beast go, gratitude threatening to shatter the icebergs in his heart. It was clear that this would work; and now he could handle what he needed to do.

Tunring back to the forest, he made his way through checking the caches, and waited until nightfall. Then, it was time.