Tuktu Weir confessions of a sociopath

Trajan's daily schedule currently consists of border patrols and hunts. He is alone, most of the time, but he does not mind — it gives him time to think, about the stars and the universe, about life and death, love and hate; his father, mother, brothers. He barely remembers Relonikiv and Julius, just that he loves them dearly and misses them so much that whenever he thinks about them, his heart aches. He feels the same way for his sister and his mother, and it hurts him deeply whenever he thinks about it that he tries not to, but he finds it inevitable — those thoughts creep up to the surface of his mind daily and he can do nothing to stop it. 
He usually goes and confronts wolves when those thoughts emerge, but today, he is on patrol duty alone and there does not appear to be any wolf nearby. Trajan weaves around a tree absentmindedly, scuffing the dirt with his paws as he moves forward to the little lake of beavers which invades the forest — he considers it a part of their territory, a distant part, but a part nonetheless and pauses by the lake edge. Silver ears swivel, catching noises in the distance, but they do not appear to be anything more than critters in the bushes. Still, Trajan remains wary. He is still on patrol duty, after all, and if a wolf comes...he would also be in charge of recruiting duty, banishing duty, or talking duty.

*wave* keeping things vague til mato thread is further along

he is on a southward trend, from the dusty mote to the noisy bog. mato's image still rings fresh in his mind, tindömé or was it - tindómë, yes, that. a pack that values skilled work - surely to his benefit, his delicate body and sharp mind an asset in a more intellectual sense than physical, despite his petulant tongue. 

delight's traveled a bit, aimless beyond his downward movement, and he thinks this might be the best location of the ones he's surveyed so far. no chattering insects or allergen-infested air - just a lot of beavers. he thinks that's what they are; he hasn't met with one before. there's something more in the air, though, the smell of wolf, and distantly, wolves. carefully he draws himself against the shadows of the forest, not wishing to be caught out if the presence is unfriendly. ah, and there they are by the edge of the lake, an imposing figure. there's something noble in the lines of his figure. delight does not think he looks.. hostile but he also doesn't look relaxed. it would probably not be good to take him off-guard - and oh, so rarely it seems does he get the chance to bring himself forward in a properly diginified way. the wisp puffs up just-slightly, careful to avoid accidental displays of dominance, and moves forward with a soft chuff.

thanks for joining :)

Trajan senses movement and smells his scent in the air, yet remains carefully indifferent, eyes landing curiously on the androgynous newcomer as he lets out a chuff. He cants his head and moves forward, silently, towards the younger wolf, stopping just a feet or two away. The Roman can smell, distantly, familiar scents in stranger's pelt, and he huffs lightly, tossing his head like a lion may toss his mane and licks his lips, wondering at this wolf's intentions.
"You met with Mato," his voice rings out, low and lilting. He observes the wolf quietly, searching his expression for anything that might indicate...well, something, to the Roman. He finds himself interested in this wolf, which amuses him, because he rarely finds interest these days and to think that this yearling would be the one to spark curiosity in the soldier...

to his immense relief, the sharply-built soldier doesn't seem to view him as an object of aggression. so far anyway. he relaxes an inch, tilts his head when the other brings up mato. faintly the wisp can smell that same familiar scent on the other -- so he was with mato's efforts too. "yeah," delight answers, his ear flicking. the other's scrutiny is apparent and he doesn't know if he's more stressed out by that than the quiet, unassuming sort of judgement the others had offered.

the boy resists the urge to squirm. "my name's delight singing-sunlight," he says, voice edged with soft pride, though he isn't as swollen as he'd been with mato. somehow he felt the other would laugh at him for that. "are you... patrolling?" del isn't sure if mato's even picked a territory, but it'd make the man's wary stance before make the most sense - or, the wisp thinks, he might just be that way, but then again, the thought of having a strong figure around is sort of..reassuring, no?

Nothing escapes the Roman's keen bi-coloured gaze. He catches the way the other wolf relaxes slightly, the way he tilts his head and flicks his ear. He senses that the other is nervous much to his own amusement, and at the younger's reply, moves his silver crown in an almost imperceptible nod. Trajan's countenance remains carefully indifferent, his stance screaming insouciance but he bears a guarded wariness that tells another story, and that never once shifts throughout the encounter with the boy. A glint, however, does entire his gaze as Delight introduces himself. It is the glint that often has him branded a rebel - one that marks him either a genius, or a madman.
"Delight Singing-Sunlight," the soldier repeats quietly in his low, lilting voice. "You don't seem much of a delight to me," he deadpans, eyeing the boy up and down, "and you're not really singing any sunlight, are you? This place is quite dark." Not once does his expression shift, and he watches Delight, wanting to see what kind of reaction his words would provoke. Of course, once the boy reacts, or if he doesn't react - the greyscale soldier would relax slightly, offer him a crooked half-smile and an incline of his head.
"Kidding. But, it's a bit true," he shrugs, eyes softening. "I'm Trajan," the shadow introduces easily. "Trajan Frostfur-diAngelo. And yes, I am patrolling. You are welcome to join me, that is, if you wish to join Mato's fledgling pack." He awaits the boy's reply with a quiet sort of ease, his eyes flitting away to scan his surroundings, ever observant.

damn he laughed anyway. delight bristles slightly, the start of a sulk gathering at the pulled-down edges of his mouth. "i am," he insists, a touch childishly, "and it's not meant to be literal anyway." the wisp remains put out even when trajan relaxes. how is something kidding if it's also a bit true? his earlier opinion of the male's nobility is marred for good.

 but they're to be pack mates and he supposes it doesn't do him any good to stay here and sulk. "i'm joining, yeah," he says to answer, expression still somewhat pouting. he wants to offer a come-back to the wound against his ego, but trajan does have frost-fur, damn it. he settles for shaking his head slightly and padding forward to join the larger male, steeling his shoulders. "so are we by - where it'll be, then?" last the singing-sunlight spoke to mato, he and his girl-friend were still looking for the perfect spot -- a little thrill runs through him at the idea that they might have found somewhere. it certainly makes the whole thing feel more real.

Trajan finds amusement in the way the boy bristles and sulks, the corner of his mouth turning downwards. The childish reply Delight gives only draws the briefest shadows of a smirk onto the soldier's angular features before he turns his head away, a bird's shriek drawing his attention for a moment. His gaze follows the bird's flight then lands back on the swarthy youngster, his velvety sterling ears angling forward as he catches Delight's words about joining the pack and watches as the boy walks forward to join the silver prince on his patrol.
"It's here," Trajan states plainly, gesturing with his snout towards the forest that borders the weir. "King Elk Forest, that's where we're settling." He spares the boy a glance before bracing his shoulders and padding back into the shadows, expecting Delight to follow. The route he has chosen leads them back into the forest — he thinks that maybe he should give the kid a little tour whilst patrolling, they were going to be future packmates, after all.
"I'm sorry about earlier," Trajan said, the words sliding easily on his tongue, but catching in the back of his throat. He doesn't especially want to apologise, given that his quip was essentially just a joke, a little poke at the youngster and he hadn't meant any harm whatsoever. Plus, he wasn't someone who apologised often. But, Delight did seem a little upset by his words and Trajan felt a bit bad — he would make jokes and sarcastic remarks when the two were closer, if they would ever become closer, but for now, perhaps he should stick to the safer side. Not everyone was as immune to little jokes as he was, after all. Delight would soon learn to appreciate Trajan's sense of humour, anyhow.
"I shouldn't have taken a shot at your name. I wouldn't like it if anyone did it to mine," he scuffs the dirt with his paws, marking the earth. He steals a glance at the boy, then allows a teasing remark to slip from between his lips, unable to allow the apology to remain in the air any longer. "You're cute when you sulk, though," the Roman says with a teasing smirk and a lick of his lips. The two of them should learn a bit more about each other as they would soon be packmates, and what better way to break the ice than good old fashioned banter?

trajan does not seem to be taking him very seriously. not that delight thinks the soldier is completely looking down on him but he sees the flash of that smirk and it only deepen's the boy's own frown. still, he answers del's question easily enough - here, the forest. king elk, he calls it. "there an elk king there?" he asks, continuing the riff on the literalness of names, though maybe it falls a little bit flat accompanied by his sullen air.

he follows easily, of course, curious about his new home. the last remnant of his pout falls away when trajan finally apologises. really it's hard to pin down if the singing-sunlight is actually offended or not - more than anything the androgyne doesn't like the feeling of being looked down on - but he puffs up a little bit, ears perking.  "s'okay-" he starts to say, but then the roman goes and ruins it by calling delight cute, and what is he supposed to do with that? he flushes (as much as a creature with dark fur can, obscured as it is), embarrassed in an entirely different way than before. "jeez," the boy grumbles. why'd he think trajan was noble-looking before? definitely  not. huff. "so, um, how long have you been with tindómë?" he asks, pointedly changing the topic.

The boy asks the Roman if there was an Elk King here. He is tempted to reply with another quip, but decides against it when he remembers how Delight reacted to his other one. Instead, he tilts his head thoughtfully and regards the woods in a new manner. He hasn't thought about it, to be honest, whether there is a Elk King in King Elk Forest but he is an open minded man and as he, himself, believes very much in the gods of Rome, Trajan doesn't feel he has the right to make a sarcastic comment about this given that his own beliefs are not necessarily 'real' as some would say.
"I'm not sure, to be honest," Trajan replies mildly. "I guess there's a possibility." he spares a glimpse at the younger male, curiosity sparking within his chest. He pushes it away and presses on, curiosity replaced with amusement when Delight flushes in embarrassment - though to be fair, it was barely visible - and grumbles in the manner that reminded Trajan of his younger siblings when he teased them back at Noctem Vagus. A sudden bout of nostalgia catches the soldier in his throat and he swallows thickly. The facade of careless insouciance never slips from his features, however and he continues on as if those thoughts had never once entered his mind.
"Not long," Trajan tells the boy, pausing to lift a leg and mark the ground. "I met Mato when he'd just discovered the forest." He glances at Delight out of the corner of his eye and nudges the boy's shoulder with his nose, should he allow it. 'What about you?"

del is a little surprised by the sincerity of trajan's response, having expected more mean wit. it forces him to wonder if there really is an elk king living in their new home - what would that even be? could it communicate with them? he misses the soldier's glance, caught in his own idle fantasy, blinking back over as trajan answers his question.

"a little while ago," he answers, flushing again just slightly at the simple contact between them. it seems the roman is intent on throwing him off again and again. del doesn't like it but he also doesn't really dislike it, he's coming to find. "mato and -- his girl-friend were still looking for a spot." he can't quite remember the girl's name (sea..something?) but whatever, he knows he'll have an opportunity to re-acquaint himself with her eventually. "i'm glad they picked here, it's much better than where i ran into them." the wisp is developing a little bit of a grudge against the strange wonders this land had to offer him.

Trajan takes pleasure in making the boy flush, he's not quite sure why. Perhaps, it is because Delight reminds him of his younger siblings, or maybe it is because the boy's reactions are inherently cute, at least, it is to him. He doesn't dwell too much into those thoughts, easily pushing them aside for later examination. Instead, he amuses himself with Delight's words, canting his head curiously. "Seabreeze, you mean?" the corner of his mouth quirks upwards in a small smirk. "I didn't recall him saying that she was his girlfriend." Not that it matters, not really. Honestly, Trajan couldn't care less. It is just something interesting. He files it away in his brain to examine later.
"Yes," the Roman agrees complacently, trudging through the forest silently whilst carelessly keeping to the shadows of the trees. "I'm glad they chose here, as well. It's quite a nice place, don't you think?" he glances at Delight expectantly, quietly waiting for his input. Contrary to what most would think, Trajan does not look down on the boy, not at all. He thinks him young, inexperienced, a pretty kid with a funny name, but he does not look down on him. He is capable of great things — everyone is, if he taps into his potential.
Of course, Trajan is better than him. That couldn't be argued. He is undeniably gorgeous (not that he's vain, of course), insanely clever and a Roman with buckets of experience. It would be hard to beat him. But he thinks Delight can be just as successful as himself if he tries, well, almost just as successful Let's not get his hopes up. he's kidding

seabreeze, he'd been close. the wisp rolls his shoulders in a faintly-haughty shrug at trajan's expression; mato and seabreeze had both seemed thrown off by his questioning about them before. "well, he didn't exactly deny it," he says, expression turning a little mischevious. in the long run whether the pair were together or would be together was fairly inconsequential but here del is, gossiping with his new pack-mate, and that counts for something surely. 

it is hard to find fault with the forest, even for the singing-sunlight's critical view. he spares the roman a glance, the earlier traces of sullenness wiped from his gaze. "i guess," delight says after a moment, properly disgruntled by it. it's almost too nice. they're probably all going to be killed by the elk king or something. the boy falls into easy silence, watching the lines of the soldier as they both move forward, partly-unconsciously mimicking the pattern of his foot falls. it's objectively admirable, trajan's outwardly radiating confidence, the obvious strength of his form, though del himself does not particularly aspire to it. "have you already got your trades sorted?" he asks, partly curious himself and partly just wanting a sounding board for his own mixed thoughts. the wisp wanted to prove himself - to mato, yeah, to his packmates - but mostly to himself.

Trajan laughs lightly at Delight's words, probably the first time he's laughed in the boy's presence. He's not sure why, if he's being honest. The boy wasn't being particularly funny, nor was he particularly funny, not at the moment, at least, but Trajan finds it amusing that their pack wasn't even official and here they were, two unofficial soon-to-be packmates of this fledgling pack, gossiping about their leader and his might be girlfriend. There's something about this situation that appeals to the Roman — perhaps it is the freedom and the lack of discipline. Rome has toughened him and strengthened him, shaped him into the man he is today. Perhaps Tindómë would teach him to relax and learn.
"What?" Trajan smiles easily now and casts Delight an amused glance. "Too nice for you?" He doesn't admit it, but it is too nice for him as well. He isn't used to forests, in general, but he's even more not used to nice quiet places. Rome, or at least his family's branch of it, was a good place, but it was hard and tough and resilient. It was a place built for battles and wars and conquerers; this is a place of scholars and knowledge. Suddenly, Trajan is overwhelmed — what if he doesn't fit here? He's notably a soldier, not a scholar. But, he thinks after a moment, soldiers could be scholars in their own way. He would learn more about the art of war. That thought amuses him immensely. 
"Mercenary is my primary trade," he informs Delight almost absentmindedly. "I'm not sure about my secondary. Maybe Counselor, maybe Scout, I haven't quite decided." And he won't be deciding for quite a while, preferring to focus on his primary trade before moving elsewhere to something else. "What about you?" Trajan turns his mismatched gaze onto the boy, his pace slowing just a bit and he cants his head curiously.

he smiles for real then, a broad and wicked thing, fleeting. at trajan's words delight looks away quickly. "there's just always something wrong," he insists, voice stubborn, trying to remember - well, no, he can't really remember where he came from anymore, but that hadn't been the thing wrong, the location. it'd been the events that unfolded after, and it doesn't matter now.

"figures," delight says, eyeing him. why did he even bother asking, again? oh right so he could talk about his own ideas. "we-ell, the pack is founding, so someone's gotta record it," the wisp says, a little too flip to really hide how excited he is about the idea. "it's, um, chronicler i think." he pauses to think about what trajan had said, and hastily adds, "and maybe naturalist or scout for secondary, yeah." 

Trajan catches Delight's smile and grins to himself in return — distantly, the boy reminds him of a younger version of himself and he's suddenly overwhelmed with a slight urge to protect the boy. He shakes those thoughts away quickly, almost disgusted at himself. What is he turning into? He's becoming too soft, this needs to change. But he'll deal with that later, not now. Now, he wishes to know the boy better.
"I know," Trajan replies softly and a little sadly. "I'm always prepared for the worst," he tells the yearling, wondering why he is even saying this to someone he barely knows, "but there's always a chance something good might happen. I hope that chance will come." He spares Delight a glance and bumps his nose to the boy's cheek quickly, if the kid does not manage to dodge it before he does and smiles softly.
'Chronicler," Trajan repeats thoughtfully, "that's a good choice." He doesn't have much of an interest in these things, but he understands that they're important. History and tradition is important, but they don't exist if no one is there to remember it and pass it on. Chroniclers are vital to the pack's survival and eventual legacy, just as warriors and healers and everyone else, and he appreciates them all the same. Trajan also finds it cute how excited Delight is, despite the boy trying to hide it. "It's cute how you're so excited," he laughs softly, gently "I'm sure you'll be a great chronicler," The Roman adds, allowing sincerity to seep into his lilting tone.

it figures trajan also expects the worse: delight doesn't think you can become a sharp-lined soldier like that without understanding tragedy, probably. he does confide a tentative optimism in the yearling, who glances at him, faintly hopeful, in time to catch the gentle bump of his nose. it's all too familial and his chest burns at the feeling. he looks away again."..yeah." 

the soldier compliments his choice and the androgyne flicks his ears, embarrassed and pleased. "i know," he says, ever unable to properly accept praise despite how much he craves it. trajan goes on to not only call him out but call him cute and he splutters, falling over himself to protest: "i know, and it's not!"

A gentle smile graces the Roman's features, mismatched eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and nostalgia as he watches Delight splutter, insisting it was not cute whilst cutely embarrassed. Trajan laughs softly and gives a toss of his silver crown. "It is," he simply replies, grinning. "You should remember this moment, Del," the nickname slips naturally from between the soldier's lips and he himself barely even acknowledges it, "when you tell the next generation the history of our pack, you should tell them about this moment. I'm sure they'll appreciate hearing about kid Delight being cutely embarrassed," he teases, finding this way more amusing than he should. The beast weaves around a particularly large tree and shoots the boy a smirk.

del scowls at trajan's laughter, even as he recognizes it as something soft and not something intended to bite. he's not really sure what to do with these feelings - something misty like affection and wistfulness, and he's only just met the soldier but he feels the same connection he feels with mato and seabreeze, and maybe that's what tindómë really is, these intricate, fast-formed bonds. delight's never been around to witness the birth of a pack but he's beginning to understand the desire. 

the nickname burns him like every other peaceful affection trajan's offered, but he doesn't mind so much. that is, until - "more like, okay first i'm not a kid, second, handsomely, uh, handsome, and not embarrassed at all," the singing-sunlight insists, reappearing around that large tree with a frown to match the roman's smirk. (all told, he could probably do this forever, walking with trajan and exploring his new home, even if the man insisted on calling him, ugh, cute.)

Once, some time ago, Trajan was as bitter and angry as Delight is. He is over that now. Well, not exactly over it — there are moments and flashes of arrogance and pain, but he is trying to move past it and he figures that as long as he keeps trying, he's doing well enough. He remembers what his father told him when he came back the second time. Shadow had looked at him, a mixture of emotions flickering in his platinum gaze — pain, happiness, nostalgia, sadness, disappointment. His father doesn't say anything, however, just envelops his son in a hug and welcomes him back. Later, Shadow tells him a story of his youth, of his arrogance and pride and how it brought his downfall. Trajan had, at that time, laughed but now as he thought back to it, a lump rose in his throat. He swallows and gives a toss of his head and a shake of his shoulders. He wants to do something, he realises. When he goes back to Noctem Vagus, if he goes back, he wants to make his father proud.
Trajan smiles softly at the boy's words, seeing a bit of his younger self in Delight. He realises quickly that he's softening, but for once, he finds that he doesn't really mind. It's a bit easier not to always be on guard. "Whatever you say, Del," the Roman glances at the younger wolf, the eye contact only broken by the brief wink he shoots Delight. Mismatched eyes gleam with a gentle sort of amusement. "Fine. A handsome, cutely embarrassed kid," Trajan grins as he scuffs at the earth with his paws, "we compromised. Good enough?"
Truth be told, Trajan could do this forever as well. Walking through the forest on a border patrol and teasing Delight. The thought brought warm feelings to the soldier and although he dismissed them quickly, a gentle look flits briefly over his chiseled features. Perhaps, he thinks absentmindedly, he doesn't need wars and battles to keep him happy and busy. Perhaps, all he needs is an embarrassed packmate for company on border patrols, quiet afternoons and philosophical thoughts.

we can wrap this up now or next round unless youve got sth else up your sleeve!

the wisp knows when he's being handled - he's not dumb, after all - and it makes him feel more flustered and a little frustrated. it's not - anymore - well, he does still think the soldier a little ignoble - or at least uncouth, but. he thinks maybe he likes trajan and, equally, will never admit it to anyone, even as they clearly get along, even as he mentally sorts trajan into his 'familial' schema. "not kid," he mumbles, but his tone is half-hearted and it's clear that he's acquiescing. "butyeah, i guess so." del decides to cede out loud, lest the soldier take him seriously and they begin a whole new round of sulking and half-meant apologies. it's easy enough to fall into silence after that, a comfortable silence the boy finds soothing as he commits his new home to memory.

yeah, this is pretty okay.