The Sunspire boy peeling a fruit

He tread along the lower reaches of the mountain, staring at it. Fascinated by it. The talus was littered with scree, and while there were patches of snow coating the dully colored soil, trails of disturbed stone littered the area. As he approached what he believed to be a pathway, a great ridge which coiled alongside the steep forest, the wanderer had to stop and consider the dangers of the mountainside. He did not know this place. It was a far cry from what he had once considered home; more rugged, nearly indomitable. Caravaggio crept along through the debris - keeping away from the small and loose shale as much as possible, but occasionally touching a paw upon a heavy gneiss, which gave way - and sent him in to a flurry of haphazard motion. Caravaggio stayed standing (by the grace of the almighty) but found his journey's progress almost cut in half.

As per usual, and more so now that winter was seemingly waning, she had struck up a presence on the borderlands and sometimes even just beyond them. By the time a strange scent began to make its way to her, she had decided to steal a moment for a quick rest and a bit of lounging. Ame hadn't reached full-on relax by then, so lent her still-keened focus to seeing what she could find out from here.

She watched him from a rocky perch just at the edge of sight, and most likely, he was too busy with the unfamiliar scenery to notice her right away. She observed for a little while as he picked his way along, progress evidently slowed up, and soon, she rose to stand. After a good shake of her coat, she glided his way. The mountain under her feet was just as she knew it would be (a lifetime of mountaineering taught her) so she made quick, easy work of approaching the stranger who had come this far.

Tail lifting, she gave him a good, long, intent look to see what his answer to her presence would be.

Diligence would win out - it always did. If it took him another day to reach the cliffside of this mountain, it would still be worth it. The work would bring him closer to that simple goal; but still, Caravaggio was frustrated. The initial spill down the incline was brief, causing more dust to rise and rocks to fall than anything else. He breathed through the murk as it settled around him, and when the cloud vanished, the wanderer's pale eyes observed a lingering silhouette. A dark-pelted creature of saturated umber stood before him, looking down upon his blunder with a pompous air; but this did not dissuade Caravaggio. This only emboldened him.

He picked his way across the stones once more, avoiding the shale, avoiding even the gneiss when it began to rock beneath the pressure of his step; and before long he was close, reaching with ease towards the stranger - a woman, this was a woman. He was close enough to discern that now, and what a woman; she appeared to have conquered the mountain.

Caravaggio chuffed and fanned his tail - careful to keep it lower than her own - showing his friendliness. He meant no ill-will to this native. Your mountain, it is beautiful. The most beautiful I have seen. He bowed his head lower, but kept his pale gaze trained upon her cheek, her jaw, and away from the eyes. Do you wish me to leave? The boy asked, quite suddenly, for he did not wish to overextend his welcome - even for the natural beauty surrounding the pair of them.

The mountain did not have frequent visitors, and as of late, they were not often of notable quality. At least not the ones she saw: a male stuck in a hole because of his sizable girth, a female practically asking her for teeth around her neck and the death to follow.. just to name a few of the most recent ones. Which was certainly a correlation between why the Spire saw little growth this month. Needless to say, the fact that he was apparently of an able-body (despite the troubles the mountain gave him) put him ahead of the rest.. not that it took much.

Lowering her muzzle just some, she smirked. It would be far too obvious to say that she agreed. While perhaps not the most beautiful mountain, and who was she to say with her fondness of nearly all peaks, it ranked high. It is good you can appreciate the beauty, despite the.. ah, hindrances it has given you, she quipped lightly while she traced the points of his features with a curious look -- just to say she had seen some of his issues, but appreciated his determination to continue and see more despite the unknown. Only if your intentions are foul, she added next to his question, and paired it with a subtle darkening of her expression. What brings you?

His words did not prompt the flash of teeth - this was good. He half expected to be driven off by the raven-pelted queen, and was pleased to find his company acceptable to her. As for her question, Caravaggio eased himself in to proper conversation; relaxing considerably in his posture while he responded, I am a simple man, a vagabond, and have left behind one family in order to pursue.. Something more. Caravaggio wasn't sure about his answer. The story of his departure from Alessandria Province was long and twisting and dark, not something he would willingly divulge; so the boy went with a simpler answer.

This mountain may be hard on the body, but it is only because my body is not accustomed to it. That is not the fault of the mountain, but of myself. A wan smile slipped across his face, and while he still watched the dark woman before him, there was a keen interest in what lay around them as well.

Do you have many living upon your mountain? It must attract the gaze of many - or, perhaps the mountain is not the only beauty they are after. Such bold words - now he was sure he would receive a lashing; but his voice was sincere, if a bit too heavy on the charm.

Indeed, he had not earned her ire. His responses in accordance to her and her subtle nuances were noted, and appreciated in a way, then she listened. His plans were not specific, and she sensed that picking and prying deeper would not yield her much besides potential frustrations. She did not really need to know what had driven him to wander exactly, just so long as he did not pose a threat to the pack.

He spoke on about the mountain, prompting her for a nod. It does take time to learn its ways, she smirked, for it was a trial of the body and mind alike -- truthfully, not a challenge all were readied to face. Countless times she had seen wolves having to learn the hard way, or leave before they could adapt. Even she had needed time to adjust to the specific lay of the Spire. But, since it seemed to weed out the weak on its own by its mere nature, it just meant less work for her.

He asked of their numbers, and wrapped an interesting statement into the end. She, amused by his choice of words, squinted and flicked an ear. Compliments would only do so much. We are plenty, secured and stable here.. but ah, not exactly.. I think that the mountain intimidates more than it allures, for it does take a certain sort to conquer landscapes like these. This was a guess, though, and a thinking she had picked up in greeting strangers over recent months. When visitors were scarce and pitiful messes on her doorstep more common than anything, it seemed reasonable. And if it is more they seek, none have made that clear.. so who is to say, she straightened and almost chuffed a soft laugh; she remained without obvious suitors. Why do you ask? He did appear interested in the area, so she would see what else she could find out before making any conclusions.

The damsel appeared to be pleased, and why not. He had been nothing but amiable, complimenting her in his broad manner; and she seemed quite swayed by it. Not once did the dark woman bare her fangs in malice - although, Caravaggio believed even her most agitated scowl would be of some merit; there was beauty in all things, after all. And then her question — but he was charmed himself, listening to the withheld chuckle which threatened to become something more. Yes, what did he want? Why was he so curious?

Then there is room for another. He, once more overtaken by a sense of forwardness, grinned a wide smile up at her. If you grant me access to your mountain, (Innuendo?) I will be your humble servant. And with that, he bowed his head - a gesture of theatrical expression, and brief. In the next moment Caravaggio was lifting his head, trailing his eyes along her features once more, as if enthralled by them.

Ask, and I will do. Even if it earns me only a single night of rest. He did want more - Caravaggio wanted the whole world, he was hungry for it - but everything had to be earned.

Her ears twitched, and arrow-tipped, he went straight for the point. Amekaze nodded slowly. There is, she switched her tail up, for if he had any interest in becoming one of theirs, minding her was paramount. But, this was certainly not an unwelcome turn of conversation.

Then, with a more pointed look as he wrapped up his theatrics If you are a useful one. They could use new blood here, new ambitions, and new skills, so she was not in a place to turn down the eager. While not privy to all that much about him, he appreciated the view.. and seemed quick to tell her what she'd want to hear. So, she'd let this play out. What can I call you? she asked.

She did not denounce him for his words, nor drive him away. In fact, the woman seemed rather unaffected. Hopefully that did not spell his doom, but Caravaggio could only wish, and see what fate had in store for him. He nodded as she mentioned his usefulness, wide-eyed for a moment, but silent. And then as she asked for his name, he was quick to give it - Caravaggio. A mouthful, I'm sure. His ears flicked back, and he looked away, knowing full well that his parents had named him something ridiculous. But it suited him too, in a way. Maybe she would come to know that. "But I am more than my name. I do wish to show you." He was thoroughly enamored by the mountain already; moreso by the dark woman, but that was something he would figure out at a later time.

His name had a curious cadence to it, as it probably derived from a language she had no knowledge of, and she noted it as he spoke on about his willingness. She would be eager to see if he would hold to it.

I am Ame, she quipped. Then, she moved in closer to him. And, the Sunspire, she was sure to add, with a upward jerk of her muzzle. Both important introductions that would do him good. Learning the rest of it was up to him. Then show me, the dark alpha imparted, then aimed to nose into his short, russet fur on his neck -- the first bit of his acceptance here, to mark him as good on her watch. She wondered, briefly, what sort of reaction the rest of the Sunspire would have to him, but let it go as she turned away to make her way back up the mountainside with or without him.