Wapun Meadow Still getting old, space is still getting cold, space is
#1
All Welcome 
Frost fell over the valley, and with it the wraith returned to the land of his birth. This place which had once been his, now all but a stranger to him. None of the scents threaded through the meadow were familiar; none of the packs he passed by seemed the same. It had all changed, all of it, as he'd always known it would. He felt the sting of it deeply.

Zephyr settled among the frost to gnaw at the skinny hare in his jaws, the blood still warm enough to throw steam into the cold air. He watched the horizon. He watched the valley beyond. It was busy around here these days, he'd gathered that much. But it was no longer the place he'd once known.
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Bearclaw Valley
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#2
Time passed, and with the valley offering unyielding protection, Ameline began to feel less and less as though she could awaken some day to find herself cornered. She took small trips out into the plains and meadows outside of the gorge, keen to detail the scents of other wolves in the area and hunt food for the two children she and Ancelin had taken into their care. 

The meadow was often a fruitful place to hunt for rabbits, though when she scanned the broad, frost-laden expanse of honeyed grasses, she saw little movement. She sniffed the cool air, her breath lingering in soft puffs before dissipating. She could almost taste the scent of blood, and flicked her tongue over her lips and nose to moisten them. Someone had made a kill in the area, possible one of the wolves of Kvarsheim.

She didn't intend to seek out the hunter, but as she began to cut through the meadow, a patch of something bright in the distance caught her attention. When she squinted, she could see that the figure wasn't white at all, but grey and furthermore, canine. Her eyes could pick out the contrast of blood even over the distance between them. The wolf had made a kill, and now devoured the meal. 

Ameline wasn't interested in picking scraps off a stranger. She continued to meander through the meadow, head low, as she searched the area for more scents.
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#3
cameo!

shoulders hunched against the frigid air, he watched from atop the sentinel stone at the entrance to the valley. 
the meadow had become theirs in his mind. a stranger was there now, another. ancelin watched ameline register them and then move onward. she was hunting. and he was waiting, waiting for any sign the newcomer would react in aggression. the melonii eyes simmered.
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#4
could spree this out and use it for claiming? :3

She caught Ancelin's scent and turned to gaze over her shoulder, only to notice the look on his face. She glanced back across the meadow, to appraise the pale figure for herself, just in time to see them rove off, leaving the Bearclaws alone. 

Ameline licked her lips; the wolf had made a kill- but had they left it behind? She uttered a soft bark, and began to bound across the field to see if there were any scraps that could be brought back for the girls.
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#5
ill keep it a priority! <3

he followed at a slightly slower pace, naturally protective as she went to inspect the ground where the kill had been.
he didn't think there would be much, but it was good to check. ancelin watched until the stranger was out of view, and then he stepped away to spray urine over this particular corner of wapun, defiantly tilting his stream.
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#6
She approached with her gaze still lifted, as if expecting the man to have left the food behind as a trap to lure her in. But with her husband approaching as well, it would have been a foolish choice. She saw no sign of the pale loner as she approached, tail waving in an arc above her hips to signal that she had no interest in being challenged. 

Not that there was much to argue over, anyway- tufts of fur, and blood spatter. She snorted, lightly disappointed to receive neither a snack nor an altercation. She turned toward her approaching mate, and dropped into a play-bow as if to fend him off from the remains, only to see that he'd changed his course, and had begun marking. She smiled and rose, trotting toward him. 

She bristled to communicate her approval, and passed by him  so that she could add her scent to his- and assure any passing hunters that they'd be traipsing into hunting territory if they came too close.
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#7
they marked in this way, romping in between, painting the land thickly with themselves.
ancelin grew more possessive, and in time he paused at the far edges of the land to howl out, a defiant and booming sound.
they worked without words, and he found he enjoyed it intensely, how they connected beyond sound and speaking, weaving together.
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#8
The valley beyond Bearclaw was vast- open and broad, welcoming for prey and predator alike. While they couldn’t claim it all, they could certainly increase their markings in the area to act as a warning for any heading toward their claim. 

These lands were free- but they were watched. 

They leapfrogged their markings so that they could claim a greater distance; she scuffed the earth with her paws, rolled to leave behind shedding tufts of her fur- and by the time the sun began to set, both she and the valley smelled of one another.

She pressed herself against Ancelin- to both claim and give to him as well the scents she bore.
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#9
criss and cross and weave;
they mingled in poetry;
when he turned his face to the sun the light was dying over the valley and making goldenrod jet out of ameline and himself.
they couldn't claim it all, but ancelin certainly meant to try.
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#10
Maybe one more from you and then this’ll count as a formation thread :)

In Bearclaw valley, their children would be born, and would grow and live and learn. They would be taught to swim, to hunt, to defend themselves and to take care of others above their own needs. 

In the Rising Sun Valley, she decided, they would romp and play once they were old enough. They could chase fireflies on warm summer nights, and fraternize with the youth of the other Valley packs. 

Here, in this new paradise, they could live- and finally lay the plans for their own kingdom.
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#11
done! <3

their new kingdom.
ancelin thought very little of the rise these days, not once he had become the fierce knight to the queen ameline had once said she would be. his goals now were to uplift her own, to tear rock and bone and blood for her, to tend their empire and nurture the greatness which would be innate to their children.
this vast world was theirs for the taking, theirs to pass down as birthright.