Neverwinter Forest Ruthlessness is Mercy upon ourselves

Days of travel, days of watching, days of listening. He wondered if it would ever end.

This place smelled strongly of wolf, though not nearly as much as the surrounding packs. Once Hakumele would have walked through with his head held high, confident and uncaring. But he had grown and matured, just as any wolf should.

He understood that his strength was not what it once was, that his limbs were quicker to grow tired and his jaw did not have the grip to tear down enemies the way he had when he was young. He had been a respected warrior, but this was the cost.

Caution would need to be taken. He would move quickly.

This one did not carry the scent of Solharr, or any other notes of the forest.

The first notion of a scent crossed over one of the layered markers that Glaukos had reasserted earlier in the day, and that brought to rise his anger. It was one thing to find a forest lowly populated and mistakenly step inside (as he had, in a way); it was another entirely to find those scents and ignore them. The scent-path told him little of the stranger. Only that it was a man, and that he was in his middle age. There was no note of sickness there and nothing to indicate any wrongness of the person, which might have lent some empathy had anyone else been on the trail.

Glaukos was not built for stealth and neither did he care for it. He beat his way through the ferns, shoved between the trees when they grew too close to one-another. He had found many paths and forced many others, as he'd learned the terrain and made his patrols. Now he had some which could facilitate his travel, but he remained bear-like in his approach. Doggedly did the soldier march with the intent to find this stranger and drive him out.

As he came around a particularly stalwart patch of old growth in the forest, his beady eyes landed squarely upon the silhouette of a man colored like a muddy patch of snow, and he loosed a low warning before he began his belligerent approach.

He's here for support, so feel free to skip him if you get around to posting before me next round!

Catamaran followed not the trail, but a scent carried to him on the breeze. He had to skirt wide around Callyope's forest in order to reach his quarry, and thus, arrived after another titan of the forest.

Catamaran wasn't used to being the smallest male around. It paid, though, to have big friends when one had big enemies.

Like the male who stood between them. Catamaran peeled back his own lips in silent warning, intending to help his packmate drive out the interloper.

He was quick to be alerted to the sound of another. Loud, aggressive. They clearly knew their place in these woods and intended to show Hakumele his.

Turning towards the source he spotted the dark-furred man as he approached. Hakumele was not foolish enough to attack, and far too tired to run without quickly being caught should the other wish to taste his blood.

He lowered his head, a show of submission, though he remained tense. He recited his purpose of entry in his mind 'I am searching for my daughter,' 'I do not seek your territory, only to find her trail.' It was simple, worthy of sympathy. Truthful.

He had little idea as to where Hokulani would be. He was wandering aimlessly at this rate.

Had he not been preoccupied with the act of confronting this stranger, Glaukos would have noticed he was being followed by another. It was good for everyone involved that he was a beast of singular mind; fortunate too, that Catamaran was both behind the bear-man and marked by Solharr. Glaukos remained unaware of his backup for now.

The stranger before him looked haggard. He made himself small, but did not speak. Glaukos stared him down—daring him to make a challenge of any sort, beyond the already stated challenge of his presence here. When no word was spoken in the scant few seconds of their interception, Glaukos drew up very close and made to intimidate with his looming presence.

The look in his eye said it all: Speak now, or lose your tongue.

The stranger did not attack, but the threat was evident. He straightened himself up, taking his turn to speak. I've come to search for my daughter. He stated, straight to the point. There was no reason to skip around things. She's young, pale fur saddled only a bit lighter than my own.

His eyes searched the other's, looking for a sign of recognition. Anything. If there was a pack forming here, I thought she may have come.

He needed to bring her home quickly, or recognize that she had settled somewhere safe. Before something happened, before she got herself into trouble.

The bounty hunter's eyes further narrowed. Why wouldn't a father call for his daughter, if he thought she might be near? It was foolish to cross borders unannounced unless one was sure their goal would be unsanctioned.

Automatically, his mind went to the pale young woman had had hidden away. He kept silent, hoping that the more dominant male would ask the questions Catamaran wanted answers to. What is her name?

The man speaks. He describes a goal that had nothing to do with Forneskja; describes this daughter. Glaukos cared little for the man's plight. He did not hold staunchly to any values, least of all familial connections—elsewise, he might have fought harder for his own children when the time came for it. There was no empathy here.

The only woman here is not your blood. For all that Glaukos knew. He had not inserted himself in to any lives here, of late. What he knew of this forest's inhabitants was substantially limited. He was not lying because he did not know; but even if he were to lie outright, what did that matter? This man could have been anyone. His description could have been for anyone. A daughter, a wife, maybe something else entirely.

You trespass. If you hope to see this daughter of yours, it will not be here. Go, now. He let the frigidity of his words make all the threat necessary; there was nothing for this man here. He didn't look good enough to recruit as a soldier, and Glaukos was not about to welcome weakness in to this place.

This is not Rivenwood, reminded some part of his psyche, but he would ignore that too.