Bramblepoint Failure to Finding Joy

@Drogon - spar

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Berries were a nice treat but they were never really filling. Which meant that they couldn't be a sustainable meal, but that you could almost eat as many as you wanted. He had entered bramblepoint from wildberry meadow. Both places filled with sweet treats to eat, something Howl was ok indulging in. 

It was a simple thing that brought him pleasure in his time of sorrow. So had his recent company, but the feeling never seemed to stay and so he continued to look for things that brought him pleasure. Hoping all the little things would eventually down out the bad. But with him avoiding his issues he would never really find peace in it.

As the meadow turned into a forest of trees, fruit began showing up on the ground. Not the rippest fruit with the current season, but remains that w ere still edible for creatures with well adaptive stomachs like wolves. He began to crunch away at an apple, using his back teeth to get through the core.

After running a very early patrol Drogon had slipped out of Moonspear’s territory with the intentions of tracking the movements of an elk harem he’s been keeping a close eye upon. Hunting and Mercenary were of an alike vein and when he wasn’t practicing his sparring skills he could be found lingering in a neighboring territory tracking and mentally cataloging the migration patterns of the herd animals. The tundrian tended to be a bit more singular minded upon his warrior and tactician trades than the hunting trade figuring that there will plenty of time for hunting when he’s earned his masteries; but still he pursues and hunts to help with the pack’s caches in preparation for the winter months. The harem leads him to Bramblepoint and almost immediately Drogon is greeted by the ( almost sickeningly ) sweet scent of berries and other assortments of fruit that cultivate the forest.

The harem had stopped to feast upon the tall grasses and fallen berries — likely no longer ripe though Drogon is no botanist and has no actual idea — and the Ansbjørn lion turns thought from them to wander a bit away. Not too far that he cannot hear the click of their joints as they walk, that he will not be alerted if they decide to move but he gets bored of just tracking and watching all day. A loud crunch of sharpened teeth splicing through soft, albeit slightly resistance fruit flesh draws the leijona’s attention and he follows the sound, shrugging through the thick brush until a figure is revealed, a touch of familiarity to him. It takes Drogon a moment but recognition sets in rather quickly. He realizes what had thrown him off about Howl: he no longer carried the pack scent of Morningside upon his midnight painted pelage.

“Fruit seems a poor substitute for flesh.” Drogon surmises with a flick of his tail against his hocks, a devilish smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he teases. “You don’t smell of your pack anymore.” Which strikes Drogon as perplexing considering all the effort he’d went into recruiting…or at least, trying to recruit — because Drogon doubts he was the only attempted recruitment.

Shortly after taking the first few bites into his apple, Howl is greeted by an old aquaintance. Drogon. A wolf he had meet when he had tried to recruit new member to Morningside. Little did Howl know, but Morningside was now almost over flowing with new wolves.

His aqaintance made a teasing comment about fruit being a poor substitute for meat. Howl was being rather casual for his usual self and with that he replied saying "You would be right Drogon, but fruit can often be a juicy treat. You should try some." he said gesturing all around him to the fallen fruits and berries. 

But then the subject turned to Howl not having a pack. It was true that the scent of his pack was no longer on his pelt, but it was filled with others. Over the past week Howl had spent numerious nights in the 'company' of other females. Their scents may still have lingered in his coat even if they had only been together for a day and night. "That's two for two. I'm not apart of that pack anymore. I left." 

Even if Howl had left his pack it seemed as though Drogon had found a pack for himself, something Howl could smell in his scent. "I leave a pack... you seem to have joined one. It seems we have evened eachother out."

Drogon glimpses at the fruit with thinly veiled disdain as Howl makes the suggestion that the tundrian should try it. Perhaps if he saw himself as a omnivore but Drogon’s never had any real desire to eat anything other than meat — likely because his first time out of the den he’d eaten grass and spit it back out realizing that it did not taste nearly as good as it had looked ( apparently his first instinct as a toddler had been to eat everything ). “That’s ok,” Drogon refused with a grimance. “I’ll leave the fruit eating to you.” The leijona offers his acquaintance a small, beguiling smile as he drinks in Howl’s scent once more as the man mentions that he’s no longer part of his pack. Drogon notes what he’s missed the first time too focused upon the lack of pack scent: that Howl’s coat is mingled with the scent of females almost solely. “Why do you smell of females?” The tundrian cannot help his natural inclination to collect information ( and unfortunately for Howl the lion of the Wilds is too naïve, too young yet to realize what happens during certain interactions between males and females ).

“We are a strange balance you and I,” Drogon observes with an amused snort. “I didn’t expect to join a pack but there’s this girl and she recruited me.” They shared a common goal and Drogon had instantly been charmed but he does not speak these things to Howl. They weren’t on that level of ‘get to know me’ yet though little does the tundrian know that it’s very likely his older, more experienced companion can piece together why Drogon had followed her without hesitation. “I’m surprised to learn you left your pack,” Drogon remarks now, seeking to shift the conversation off of himself. “You seemed devoted when we first met.” Devoted enough to venture out in search of recruits: a loyalty that the tundrian did not think could be bought. Howl does not have to tell him and Drogon will not pry if he's shut down but he initiates the potential conversation gently, erring to a side of reserved caution in case Howl does not wish to speak of it.

It is almost uncharacteristically considerate of the Ansbjørn but it's one of the things that the soturi works on learning that he cannot go about his life being an ass to everyone all the time.

Drogon refused Howl's invitation, leaving it all to him. Howl shrugged and continued to finish up the remainer of his apple. Bitting through the harder core and injesting the seeds of the fruit along with it. Less tasty then the rest of the apple but not unappatizing. 

Upon taking in more of his scent Howl's companion was now able to disern that even if he no longer smelled of a pack, he still very much so had scents of others in his pelt. He then proceeded to ask why. "It seems I have a way with wooing females, even out of breeding season." he said smiling, hinting at the activities that took place between him and these ladies. 

his companions remark on how he followed a female into a pack made Howl smirk, thinking back to when he had done the same think when he first attempted to join the former pack known as Teaghlaigh. "Seems I didn't have the same charm as she did ha." he said in reference to when he had tried to somewhat recruit Drogon when they first meet. 

When asked why he left, Howl thought to explain it in a way somewhat similar to Drogon's current situation. "Well... You like this girl right?" he asked Drogon refering to the female that had recruited him. "At least enough to follow her home." he clarified, not wanting him to feel nervious about his questioning. "Well there was a female in my former pack, and I joined because of her. We became really close, but she ended up... leaving... and so I did the same." he answered vaugly. 

The vague and subtle hints went over Drogon’s head, admittedly. He understands …very basically, at least …what ‘wooing’ females is ( he thinks it means flirting with them ) but given the following context of breeding season Drogon’s idea of wooing and Howl’s implication do not match up. Drogon’s never had the ‘birds & bee’s talk’ but he understands that there has to be more to breeding season than just flirting with one another to make babies; and is able to piece together that it’s not about ‘wooing’, necessarily, but about what happens once a woman is ‘woo’d’. “What happens after the wooing?” Drogon asks bluntly, trying to be specific as possible. The tundrian only enjoys subtly when he knows what is being fully implied and his lack of knowledge on the mechanics of baby making leaves him ignorant to the full implication. Sure, he’s old enough now that he’d likely figure it out very quickly come breeding season but it would probably also be a bit of a kindness to save him the initial horror of walking into a scene he was never prepared for; and as Drogon had been taken from his parents long ago and has never sought to replace them with any sort of parental figure he’s been left to pretty much figure things out on his own.

Howl mentioned that he didn’t have the same charm as Hydra had for Drogon to follow him home and Drogon frowns slightly. It’s true that he has developed a bit of a crush upon Hydra but that wasn’t initially what had drawn him in to Moonspear. They shared a similar goal and he had the knowledge to help them, plus a direct offer from the Beta had been pretty hard to pass up; and Howl had the fact that Drogon had recently pledged himself to Ravensblood going against him, as well. Obviously: that had not panned out, but Drogon was happy in Moonspear and lived with no regrets for his choices.

“Yeah, I mean that wasn’t initially why I followed her home, but yes.” Drogon felt the need to clarify, realizing that he hadn’t been overly specific but shut his mouth and ultimately gave Howl his undivided attention when the older male dove into an explanation. That he became really close to a female in his pack, that she left and so did he. The implication there was also lost on Drogon: who assumed that meant the two of them were still together. “Well if you left because of her how come you’ve wooed different females?” The scents on his pelt were not of the same woman, as far as Drogon could deduce. “Is she ok with that?” Drogon asks wondering if that was a thing. The tundrian does not realize that Howl had meant she’d died because it was also not anything he’d ever experienced nor had explained to him.

His younger companion Drogon didn't seem to be picking up what Howl was putting down and it caused him to laugh alittle bit. He was young but Howl didn't think he was so young that he woundn't know how those sorts of things worked. But it was possible that some wolves just didn't get that 'talk' for one reason or another. 

Howl would have gone on to explain this situation, but he was faced with even more questions. Questions that beconed him to further explain his situation with his past mate. He didn't want to answer those questions as much, but he felt as though if he were going to answer the first ones he would be urged even more to answer the second set.

He thought back to when the two had meet in the beginning. Howl was the one with the most questions at the time and their was only one way he could get the answers that he needed, though a spar. He wondered if Drogon would be up for the same game again. "I tell you what. Why don't we play that little spar game like before and I'll give you the answers you're looking for along the way. Sound good?" he asked eager to do something other then small talk. 

Drogon doesn’t get an answer to his first question and the tundrian makes no moves to mask his annoyance as it shows upon his expression, under the assumption that his older companion no doubt assumes he should already know about such things. Perhaps, Drogon thinks, he masks his true age better than he thinks. He’s not been alive long enough to have lived through a breeding season for any of the species that inhabit the Wilds so it wasn’t like he accidentally stumbled across the act and was able to put two and two together. Besides that, he’s been a vagabond for most of his life and talk of such things had never been any of his various companion’s priorities. Nor, truly, had it been any priority of Drogon’s own to wonder about it. He was older now, and starting to notice females in a very different way than he had previously meant that he was bound to develop curiosity about it …especially when it’s enigmatically brought into a conversation.

The tundrian remains impassive as Howl puts out the offer: they could spar and answer questions along the way. Drogon is hesitant at first. Not because he doesn’t love a good spar but because their first spar hadn’t lasted very long and the tundrian still suspects that the older man threw the fight. Ultimately, the offer is incredibly tempting and Drogon feels himself giving in with a heavy sigh. “Fine,” The soturi agrees gruffly. “but you’re answering my first question first. You don't get to get out of that.” Howl has opened that box and it was his duty, therefore, to explain what the hell 'wooing' all entails to Drogon ( as far as Drogon cares to see it, anyway).

I never seem to have good rolls. Attack 2 points, Defense 0 points

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Drogon's reluctance was very clear and it brought a smile to Howl's face. It was funny to see how he could be persuaded to spar with Howl simply because he wanted to know what Howl had learned even before Drogon's age. Howl wasn't a father, sadly, and he had never needed to give anyone the talk before. But it wasn't as though Drogon was a pup. He was young, but not a baby and so Howl opted to be more straight forward then to throw in metephors involving incompatable insects and birds. 

"Fine. After 'successful' wooing takes place, intercourse... aka sex takes place." he then took a few steps back and and lowered his stance, one ready to spar. "Anything more specific you will have to ask." he proclaimed. He then went to rush forward and attempt to grab onto Drogon's shoulder. 

i rolled a partial attack & partial defense so that leaves drogon with: 4 points of health for round two? if...i did it right? lol

Perhaps, in any other circumstance, if Drogon would not have lived the life of a vagabond as he has he would have already been well versed on the “birds and bees” but he had been stolen from his parents and any semblance of a “normal” life and none of his companions ever broached upon the subject but the tundrian thinks that it was hardly any sort of concern: not when they had bigger things to worry about: like food and shelter for the night. He wasn’t in any sort of danger of making babies any time soon so it likely wasn’t an overly pressing concern for any of the parties involved. His curiosity, now, however is simply natural. He’s already entered the stage of noticing females in a very different way than he had before: his thoughts flicker to Wraen and Hydra specifically. Neither couldn’t be more different than the other but Hydra’s the out of his league girl that he can’t help but gravitate to because they are similar and Wraen well, she’s sweet and was his first kiss and he likes that he feels like he can protect her.

Drogon’s ears pivot atop his skull as Howl talks about intercourse and sex. These words mean little to Drogon. They are just words without meaning. They are words that describe what happens after wooing, according to Howl but Drogon’s clueless to the process. “Ok but what the fuck is sex?” The boy can’t help his frustration because he still feels given vague answers and if he wants specifics then he’s got to ask. Drogon’s beginning to learn that he’s not a fan of vague answers: when he wants information he wants all of it in detail and he wants it now; and accordingly, he’s begun to discover that he doesn’t have very many boundaries as to how far he’ll go to get the answers he seeks ( which is not exactly a good thing ).

Howl rushes for him and Drogon is able to partially defend the attack: the older male’s teeth just clip his shoulder and the tundrian counterattacks: jaws parted for the older male’s front left leg, hoping to grab ahold of it and pull him off balance to get him down to the dirt.

Correct. Howl attacks with 3 points.

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Howl thought that once the correct verbage was used Drogon would know what Howl was talking about, but from his responce Howl was clearly wrong. It caused him to laugh histerically for a moment, thinking about how Drogon used another word for sex within his question. "Fucking. The thing wolves of opposite sex do to make puppies, but I guess not always." the intent for offspring wasn't always needed, something Howl had experienced recently. Both with Wrean and Awinita (assuming those theads continue as plotted).

But Drogon's anger and confusion only seemed to strengthen his fighting skills as he got a good grib on Howl and proceeded to lower him to the ground. "Didn't anyone tell you this as a kid?" Howl grunted before lunging upwards into Drogon's chest, in an attempt to raise himself and knock his sparing partner over. 

rolled a partial attack & unsuccessful defense so looks like drogon's health is: 1/5. ouch. lol

Evidently, according to Howl an explicit that Drogon has become rather fond of is also another term for sex, explaining simply that it’s something that males and females do to make puppies. Now it’s in terms that the Ansbjørn can make sense of. “Oh,” Well, now it didn’t sound half as exciting as before. He’s no where near old enough to make puppies and he’s still young enough that the idea is rather off-putting and weird. “You can have sex and not make puppies? How do you know if you’ll make puppies or not?” Drogon fired off the questions not caring if they were going off a ‘one question per attack’ sort of deal or not. For a moment, the tundrian had the upper hand: he lowered Howl to the ground. “I’ve been alone for most of my life.” Drogon responds curtly at Howl’s question. In a fatal moment of distraction Drogon’s grip upon Howl slackens and the older male lunges towards him. By the time Drogon realizes his reaction time is slowed and their bodies crash together in a powerful collision that knocks the Ansbjørn’s breath from his lungs. He’s not an easy beast to topple: big and brawny but Howl ( who is probably a match for the lion ) knocks him off balance and Drogon goes down. Pain shoots through him as he lands: smarting from the collision from Howl and the earth.

Drogon is fueled by the pain: he lets out a low snarl that exposes his teeth ( because he’s never been a gracious loser unfortunately ) and attempts to latch onto Howl’s neck with his teeth. He strays away from the throat — because this is a friendly spar after all — but Drogon isn’t beaten yet and he’s not about to surrender until he knows he’s lost for sure. He's going to fight tooth and claw until the match is officially over. He could still win maybe ...or at the very least even their score out.

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Your new avatar is AMAZING :0  |  Attack 3 points vs (1-2 point defence) = Howl wins this spar. yay :)

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Before Howl lands his blow Drogon gets a few more questions in. Asking how it is Howl makes sure that when he does have sex, pups are not in the equation. He also explains that he much not have gotten the talk and has been alone for a great deal of his life. It was an unconventional way to have the sex talk, but with how old Drogon was now, he thought that now was better then never. Even though Drogon was young, maybe even too young to have puppies with a mature female, that hadn't stopped Howl when he was Drogon's age. 

Howl's blow makes Drogon go off balance and he hits the ground hard. Nothing fatal but by the looks of it, it much have hurt alot for a spar. The pain he felt was almost visable as he regained his footing. Howl could feel himself slipping away too, but wanted to even the stakes between the two, seeing as how Drogon won the last spar between the two. It seemed as though whoever wanted the answers most was the one to lose the fight. But for this theory to be proven the two would have to spar another time, on another day. 

Before Drogon goes to maek his attack Howl get a chance to answer his question quickly "You can smell it." As Drogon goes to latch onto Howl's neck, Howl moves to the side a bit where Drogon grazes his shoulder, hurting a bit but giving Howl the chance to take hold of Drogon's scruff on the back of his neck. One he takes how he presses Drogon to the ground and hold him there till he gives up. 

thank you! nanarc did such a lovely job with drogon~. I just went ahead and used my post as a conclusion post. We'll have to have another spar thread soon! :D

Howl’s answer was a bit lackluster for Drogon’s taste ‘you can smell it’ … if the Ansbjørn wasn’t busy trying to ignore the ache in his muscles and bones, trying to prove that he wouldn’t go down until the final bell he would’ve scoffed. Drogon’s teeth miss Howl’s neck but he manages to graze the older male’s shoulder but Howl ends up taking the victory. A low snarl tears itself from Drogon’s throat as Howl pushes him down into the dirt by his scruff. The loss stung his pride but Drogon was pleased ( and surprised ) to realize that he was …not content with his loss per say but he knew that he hadn’t just laid down in defeat: he’d fought until he couldn’t fight anymore, until defeat was his only option. Of course, he was inspired to improve his skills so that next time he would win once more because Drogon’s far too competitive to ever settle. He won’t be happy until he’s the best. He rises to his paws when Howl releases him, and stretches his sore muscles, wincing slightly. “You better be prepared to lose next time,” Drogon shoots in good natured arrogance, “old man.” He teases over a broad shoulder. “You can find me at Moonspear when you’ve got an itch for a good fight.” Drogon adds as he hesitates long enough to speak the words before he heads in the direction of Moonspear, contented with seeing his mistakes and thinking about the steps he has to take now to correct himself so he does not make them again.

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