Wrong Foot Forward

OOC:Timeline: Takes place after Xi'nuata and Raheerah have their conversation after the hunt @Njal It was a new day. A rainy new day, though it felt no different than any of the days that came before it. The air was still cold. The ground, still numbing. But there was a difference the female refused to place, at least not yet. Not until she was ready. But rather than dwell on what kept her mind in its rambled state, she took off from the mountain as she often did at her leisure, taking stride toward the hidden lake… though further than before. Only had she ever looked at the extent of the lake from a distance. It white, sandy shores remaining a single thin spectacle spread in the distance. She had no reason, and still none this day to explore it other than the innate drive to know what lived beyond the lake and along the winding creek. She caressed her lips as she lumbered down the creek, catching the few beads of blood from her early morning hunt. Disheveled in appearance, she paid no mind to her graceless traverse across the ice. For all she needed was a heavy paw spread wide along the shores, ready and able to carry her large form should this impromptu adventure call for a sudden movement. Though for the most part, the air was fairly calm. No stranger scents other than the fragrance of a new land… and the musk of a growing collective nearby…

The plains were his home, the river the life-blood of all that he was. It had been this way since Njal had been a part of Kindred's ranks despite his resistance; the mountains did not lay claim to him the way they did to his parents, or his siblings. He had adapted, and he thrived by the river. But today Njal was breaking away from his habits. He distanced himself from the river as much as he could — moving quickly along the bank at first, and then veering away from it.

Swiftcurrent's lands were still somewhat of a mystery to him. Njal did not know where they started and where they ended, only that the river was an important aspect of it. This ignorance would be remedied; but as he moved, he caught a scent. Something wild, like the mountains far from here. This connection made him take a sudden dip in speed and he corrected his trajectory, heading towards the foreign scent.

He did not see the stranger at first, despite a furtive look along the horizon; but when he saw her, his head raised and tail lifted; knowing that as a pack wolf he was greater than the homeless stranger. Njal barked sharply to gain her attention and, with a bold stride, approached her. The look in his eyes was questioning and stern, which made up for the silence.

As a wanderer, she was neither bound by another or made to follow the courtesies of a wolf within a pack. To complement her scent, her spirit was wild. And yet with all wild things, a moment of calm and reason would touch them to sake of understanding and genuine curiosity. Such was the means by which the female turned her eyes from the path ahead. Bold gems of umber and gold shining with intrigue as the inquiring vocalist drew nigh with purpose. Although his reason for the call was unknown to her, clearly. Swiftly she lowered her nose along the creeks bend to generously scent its banks and the land around it. No… the creek as a whole was not claimed, however there was perceptible cologne drifting from the direction of the coming male. Not to close for her comfort, but worth to instill wary even in her. As he advanced, she stood still following the ascent of her crown. The mask of fear and caution remained absent from her face, however the countenance of observation overtook her near seamlessly. Gracefully aged dapples of grey accented the tan folds encompassing the whole of a large, muscled frame. His expression, one of question when her eyes could better see. Yet rather than offer a word to perhaps ease his bother, she gifted him her silence instead as biting as the chilling wind.

It was perhaps a case of mistaken circumstance which had led him to her. Ignorant of his own pack's boundary, Njal believed that they had taken the lake as well as the river — at least because the flat land was not as safe as the treeline along the water's edge. It was erroneous, and any issues arising today may have an impact upon his life within the pack. He was therefore unaware of the flaw within his thoughts; her silence only made him question her motives further.

A part of him was eager to chase her off, although she had done nothing wrong, and that innocence stayed his hand so to speak. The man paced, but his tensed muscles and raised hackles became less and less obvious, until he slunk around her and halted, a bit more calm. There was an insistent tone in his heavily accented voice when he put forth the question, "What are you doing here?" He watched her carefully, monitoring the way she moved and making mental notes - where she possibly came from, where she was going, if she had perhaps spent the night near the river which he felt the desire to protect.

It wasn't his place, this far from his new home. Njal couldn't help himself though. It had been ages since he'd have anything of value in his life that he held a heightened sort of paranoia about this woman. "Unless you have interest with river pack, you should not be here." The bass of his voice rumbled with an underlying warning, but he did not appear so enthusiastic that he would act against her. Not yet.

A more amiable nature might have assisted in calming the suspicions of the male. However by the graces of a mother burdened by the pain of past betrayal, the offspring of the bitter woman was inclined to take the road of the less cooperative and silent, as she often did. Still she watched the male with care, the scrutiny upon his visage. She watched his lips as the parted bearing the question his gaze conveyed with great clarity. She would have thought her prior actions to his call made it evident. “Walking,” she replied briskly with a soft undertone. She placed her forward paw back in preparing to continue her little stroll along the bend, but was made to pause as his line of dialogue with a statement. “I don’t see why…” smoothly she turned from him and continued forward down her path. She did not assume she was trespassing on pack’s territory… unless this male was coming to claim it. Though without more to aid him, it did not seem that that was the case.

The woman before him was fit. A little haggard from the lifestyle of a lone wolf, which he himself was trying to work out of as well, but large and formidable. Someone who could probably hold her own in a fight, if it came to that. Her words prompted him to puff up again. To stride defiantly around her and cut in front, halting an escape. A simple remark would not make him go away — he was protecting something with an almost desperate insistence.

"It is not important for you to understand," He cut her words short, not listening for any further retort from the stranger. The lull of her voice would have told him to just leave her be, but Njal was too caught up in his own desires. She was a mountain creature, that much was true, but if her home was in the mountains then why would she be here? The man levelled his eyes upon her, highly antagonistic with the pointed gaze that was directed to her own. Haughty, which wasn't like him at all. Aggressive.

"Return to your mountain." He commanded next, as his ears fell back against his block of a head. Njal felt his blood begin to boil, a pressure build in his chest - he would not ask again. And now, he was far closer to her body; close enough to reach out and snap at her, if the need arose.

The male before her was becoming a nuisance, which was a commendable feat in and of itself. Though she prided herself on enduring the hostilities of others, even the calm and reserved had their limitations. And hers was gradually approaching. It began with a swift halt and visible crest of her brows as weathered grey invaded her vision. Her thinning patience proceeded with a quivering nose and stiff muzzle. The veils of her eyes receding into obsidian and tear marked rims as disbelief for this bold reaction was worn. “That is fine,” curt and to the point, she sought to skirt around the male with a long limb shifting forward. Her tail severed the still air as irritability crept into the hairs of her name, bidding they raise from their bed and stand. “It is not my mountain,” she corrected, struggling to keep her voice at a comfortable whisper. “Nor am I ready to return to it. Excuse me.” Guided by her leading paw, she sought to proceed from the male’s open side and return to her walk before her patience shattered. She hadn’t the time nor care to cater to someone’s ego and comply.

He couldn't remember the last time he had to drive away a stranger. It must have been months ago, perhaps closer to a year, back before the flood left Kindred in ruins. Before he had abandoned the valley that so many of his new family had called home. It was exhilarating to him. Bringing back a level of fire to his life that he had left behind — no, he wouldn't think of that. Of his life before. This was a new beginning and it would go right.

The woman refused him, and it was enough to make his own tail lash at the air, but only once. One flick of annoyance before he dove toward her roaming position. Njal descended with his teeth in a flash of savage yellow; nipping her near the hip, swift and without too much power, trying to herd her away from her path. If she continued then they would both be in the open plains, and after that, the river would be in view. It was an hour away at the very least, but Njal intended to keep everyone at a distance from Swiftcurrent; they had no right to be near it.

After his brief snap he reversed his skull, lowering it in a single defensive manner to keep his throat protected, if she chose to retaliate; and his body overwhelmed her again, driven in to her path in order to dissuade. His teeth sheathed themselves but were ready, always, to reach out and use more force if the lone wolf continued to ignore his warnings.

She felt the inaudible snap of the internal cord; the final strand of countless many that bound her patience together. She felt it along with this rough snap to her hip eliciting a sudden yip and swift hobble to the side, graceless as per usual. To walk was easy, it required little finness to carry her large form over great distances. Running, sprinting much the same at the very least. However the art of the quick turn and retaliation was nearly lost on the heavyset female. Where toned muscle and strengthened bones might have easily guided another, she was weight by soft sinew and fat layered on. Her movements were slow, if not predictable to witness. Never the less she turned around, brandishing heavy layers and build as the garb of defense. Her head lowered quickly as weathered lips drew back to reveal stained fangs. Her voice discarded its vow of soft tones to raise a sharp octave in warning to the other. Rounding her shoulders forward, she kept her head tucked within the protective folds of her neck, then stamped soundly forward, more an awkward heavy bounce than an actual feigned charge. Suffice it to say, she had never been physical assaulted by one outside of her mountain pack. But she had no intention of allowing to happen without some kind of consequence.

The woman reacted the way he anticipated, as any wolf would when affronted by teeth; she let out a sound of surprise, and then turned to bare her teeth towards him. The movement of her body was slow and staggering in it's simplicity; easy to watch and understand. Njal administered a second nip to her hindquarters as he stepped around her, agile thanks to his diminished size. Having been alone for so long, he was made in to a toned and rigid animal - aptly designed for quick travel, despite the square, stout profile. Experience told him how to move. It was the lack of such experience that made the stranger slow and cumbersome; perhaps she should have stayed on her mountain, and not tried to sneak across lands that did not belong to her.

Njal snorted at this thought, which came out of him with a note of amusement. Her bared teeth did not frighten him. She was large, yes, but not trained in the same way that he was. The Russian dove in with his snout and nudged her, hard, against the curve of her hip — expecting her to turn and defend that side which he so laboriously targeted. If she did that, he would move with her. A silver shadow. This behaviour was oddly familiar to Njal, but he was too caught up in the little spat to notice the similarities between these moments, and his beloved Kindred.

It was only after the slow completion of her movement, that the male dealt another snip and swift turn around her. In an effort to follow to his movements, she rounded quickly by her forelegs only, though the lacking dexterity to her large frame awkwardly pose as her hindquarters had only just moved to follow. Then came the nudge, less of a tap and more a forceful press to move… or rather set her off balanced form to topple side-first into the snow. She yelp in surprise as cold permeated through the thick hide to grace flesh. Agitation forsaken for embarrassment she shuffled much like a yearling having fallen but looking determinedly to rise again. Instead she simply shifted to her rear and tried to strike at his muzzle with a heavy forepaw.

Her body creased the snow, leaving a divot of crushed fluff to indent the plains; her voice uttering another sound of shock, which Njal once again scoffed at, except with a little more tact. It didn't last, though. The woman tried to bat at him with one large paw, and he simply reversed himself so that it missed — barely, but that could have been on purpose. A small smirk curled the edges of his muzzle. Njal wasn't happy, but it was a clear break from the serious and sullen demeanour which had plagued him for so many days.

He was having fun. But the woman, whoever she was, clearly did not like this game.

"Tch, too slow!" He chided. Njal's voice was left hanging as he moved close again, but this time, he feigned an attack. Testing her, probing with his nose in one quick movement after another. One aimed at her shoulder, another at her rump directly diagonal, then her cheek, some which poked softly and some which he placed more force behind. Njal was moving in an obvious arc around her, as if to see if she could notice this clear pattern and respond in kind. Meanwhile, he goaded her further. "You are slow like grizli bear!"

Ah, but he only jested. It was not the time or place for such behaviour, but the man couldn't help himself. He was enjoying this far too much.

Prod after prod, and aimless strike after strike. The irritable dance of successful pokes on part of the male, and misses from her slow and wild swings was well wearing on her nerves. By the time she had realized she had had enough of this little game, she had swung too sharply and too wide at his backside, serving only to throw herself further off balance and topple to the snow yet again. And she had been seated the whole time! The female did not waste her breath in growling for much longer, seeing as the goads were doing well to drown out her previous attempts at a threat. She hardly looked like a threat at the moment. “Enough!” She barked bitterly, conceding to the antagonizing jests in a single word of surrender. Snapping her teeth in warning to be left a moment alone, she carefully pushed herself to stand yet aimed her muzzle away from the path she had intended to follow. Roughly she shook out her pelt as she turned her back to the male, dismissing him as one would an unfair playmate. If continuing meant becoming another’s plaything for much longer, she was well to leave the path for another day and return to her seclusion… if only to sulk til sense became her.

Her defiant bark of submission was enough to pause his motions, but not altogether end them.

Njal slid around her on to a risen shoulder of snow, making himself slightly taller than her seated form, for a short moment. His smirk slipped off of his square mug when she deigned to retreat, and a part of him wanted to stop her from doing even that. To continue their game, to pester, and maybe teach her something of value; but he had done his job, so the fact that she was retreating should have been rewarding or something similar.

The woman was heading back towards the mountain range and Njal, eager to continue, decided to follow her from a distance. His golden gaze returned to their stoic, hard look while he allowed a number of wolf-lengths to separate them. Maybe he would follow her for a few minutes, or a few hours — he hadn't decided.

The female was quiet in her retreat, more so bothered into submission rather than humbled to depart. She hadn’t encountered abuse of this likeness before, and she was learning rather quickly that it was not the kind she decided to endure. And her convictions only strengthened when her ears fanned back to the soft crush of snow at the rear. Goodness… he was following her? She dared not look back to investigate lest he took it as an invitation start their game again. She could certainly do without it. But why he would pursue her even after her compliance was beyond her realm of understanding. Perhaps he assumed she could just return when he was out of sight. While it was very well plausible, the wanderer was not in a hurry to risk humiliation again. The rhythm of her heavy steps droned on for several minutes, long after the fueling heat of embarrassment waned and all that remained was the cold of travel. But still… still she could hear his steps behind her. Just within audible range but not close enough to be assaulted by his scent. She had a mind to let him be, but returning to isolation was difficult when accompanied. Suddenly she halted and wheeled around with head raised to address the male in the eye. She shared no words yet let her expression tell all; the mask of worn high with eyes narrowed expectantly as the flesh of her muzzle quivered with an unsung snarl.

They walked in tandem for some time. It passed slowly at first, and then dully. The length of space between them did increase as they moved across the plains, but Njal did not let her leave his sight. She was not permitted to return to the area and he would escort her out — whether that meant dragging her, or keeping his distance, she was not welcome. However, the man felt a twinge of guilt within his chest. The evaporation of his enthusiasm to defend his home. A lessening of purpose.

And when she finally had enough of her sullen shadow, she turned to confront him. Their eyes met and he watched the tremble of her features, the willpower that she held to keep her cool despite being thoroughly irritated. It was here that they would part ways. She was silent but it was enough to tell him, his method had been correct, and there would be no further incident — alas, Njal felt himself wishing that she would have put up more of a fight. Any fight, really.

"You are not a good fighter." He suddenly commented, and broke the stillness with the curt refusal of her gaze; having his eyes flicker away from her in a small sign of deference, as if their spat had never happened. Peculiar behaviour indeed. Njal must have gone a little crazy during those months of solitude, for he couldn't let her leave. His voice fell to silence for a moment, letting her digest the words, before he continued, overriding whatever she may have said as a retort, if anything. "You are clumsy, and move like a baby seal who does not know the water around it."

A moment again. His voice, deep and rumbling from disuse, lifted in to the air.

"If you come back here, I will chase you again." A promise. An offer, as well, which was hinted at with a raise of his brow; Njal turned his eyes upon her again, finally, and let a little mirth ignite within them, letting out a shine. "Perhaps you will get better." He finished, with a subtle nod of his head and a turn of his body - he made a few steps as if to return in the direction of the river territory, crunching snow with a few slow steps, but he stopped and watched her as if waiting for a response.

She would have been glad had they departed in silence. For once, a parting without a final word to commemorate the occasion. But of course it was too much of a desire to be fulfilled for the sake of a lonely wanderer. And in their clash of unyielding gazes, she was met with further insult. “I was not bred to be a fighter,” she snapped as her tail slapped angrily at her thigh. She had never been permitted to do more than eat and sleep among the pack. What reason did she have to learn to fight when the sovereign wanted his breeders docile? Furthermore, whatever the seal creature was meant to be, she did not at all enjoy being referenced to a creature she did not know. She was clumsy on flat lands, of this she was aware. But mountains… the rough terrain, steep ledges and jagged peaks. There was no greater stage for her to dance upon. She was all too glad to see the back of him, however short-lived the view before her turned to address her. “Unless you intend to claim the land, I shall travel it as I please!” she raised her muzzle to shout across the length. The tension of strain tickled the back of her throat, however she pressed through the irritation from a time of lacking use to conclude her part in their shouting match. “…and I have no need for betterment!” she defended, hoping for once to have the last word of a conversation. She had the mountains as her domain. He could have his dexterity on the flatter lands if he so chose.

While it wasn't surprising to recieve hostility due to their previous interaction, Njal was surprised by the stranger's choice of words. The fact that she was a wolf meant that she was a fighter; that she was alone and surviving, excelling, showed resilience and an untapped potential. He grunted softly at the next thing she said, for it did not sit well with him. Betterment as she called it, could one day save her life. Just because he was driving her away from these lands did not mean he wanted her dead — and who knows, perhaps she would have earned the right to live amongst the river wolves if she had shown some skill. Njal gave a subtle shrug, finding no reason to speak further - and then he turned, and began to stride off. His ears were turned in her direction in case there was further discourse, and he kept his wits about him for when the snow began to crunch, just to make sure she wasn't about to head back towards his new family's lands. It would not be permitted.

[Exit Njal?]

Intolerable. That was the only word she could associate with this male. An intolerable male to suffer, and a grate to the ego surely. Had more time to ponder, she might have found other spiteful slanders to label him, but thought better of it considering… her vocabulary was limited it best. Instead, she settled for a glower to linger even after her turned to leave her properly. Even with the image of his back, her hackles still raised in annoyance towards him. He was not like the little wolf that insulted and verbally prodded her to get a rise. Nor was he anything like that cool and commanding devil of the mountain. This male was… mean. And she had no intention of suffering him again. With a nod to herself, she turned swiftly on the tips of her paws, taking first a walk then a graduated trot toward the mountains base til she was free to vault to its surface then disappear within its embrace. [Exit Nuata]