Swiftcurrent Creek i'll be the outlaw, bounty on my head; you be my shelter, a safe place to rest

@Constantine @Durnehviir

The scent of urine and scat drew him near. The black wolf sniffed curiously and cautiously at a scent-soaked rock as his ears twisted to listen around him. He smelled the stone itself; the squirrel that had scampered across it; the bird that had shit on it; and the wolves who had laid clam to it. The marks were strong — fresh. He tread carefully along the territory's edge, tail low and ears skimmed back, inspecting more marks, sussing what knowledge he could from them. Then, satisfied with what he knew, he retreated a comfortable distance. He took a long look at his surroundings, for any figures that might have seen him, and seeing none, lifted his broad snout skyward and howled. He called for no one; he only projected a long, carrying note that said I'm here.

With the pups born, and apparently, another litter on the way, pending naïve youth and an absolute disregard for pack law, the swarthy Alpha found himself busier than usual, while contemplating exactly what to do about @Chusi’s pups. Durnehviir had birthed four healthy pups of their own – and he would ensure they remained top priority.. but after his mistake with Rowan and turning her from Donnelaith, the shadowrunner wasn’t keen on repeating history, even if these pups were not linked to him in any way.
 
When a call sounded at the border, the Mayfair was quick to investigate. Stocky as he was, the ebony Alpha could be quick at times, and within moments he came upon the stranger, noting the quiet posture of the large wolf. His tongue swept across his inked lips as he studied the other, his form tensing as he began to close the distance between them. “Welcome to our borders,” he finally offered, drawing up to a halt a few wolf lengths from the rogue.

He listened as he waited. To the sparrows chirping in the trees. To the hum of bees as they awoke from their winter slumber. He listened for a reply, to some indication that someone had heard him, but he heard nothing until the sound footfalls reached his cupped ears, and he turned his head to witness the approach brawny male.

Jagwyr presumed this to be the alpha male. He looked the part; fit and healthy. The dark wolf had the years too. He was no yearling that had managed to scrape together followers enough to call himself a leader.

Contented by the caliber of the assumed patriarch, Jagwyr met him well, bowing his head and sweeping his ears back. His low-hung tail swayed in an amiable wag as he cast his gaze aside and watched the other male from his periphery.

"Thanks," he replied in his gruff, gravelly tone. "Name's Jagwyr. Looking to earn a place in your ranks if you've the room."

I'll be better. ;-;

Respect was given – blatant submission wasn’t something Constantine overly sought from his subordinates, but it was certainly appreciated – especially by a wolf seeking to join their ranks. At the introduction, the swarthy wolf’s posture relaxed slightly, his fiery eyes drifting over the wolf who offered a name – Jagwyr.
 
The other was older than the recent wolves they had rounded in their ranks, and for that alone, the Mayfair was intrigued. “Constantine Mayfair,” he offered then, giving a light nod to reveal he appreciated the gesture of respect, but neutrality could be taken now. “Alpha of Swiftcurrent Creek,” he offered before giving a light ‘hm’ in consideration. “We have room in our ranks for those who are looking to call their pack their home and family, and who will offer their skills and effort toward making it a better place.” He paused after giving their core values, already feeling some of their current members didn’t necessarily uphold this. It would need to be a discussion with Durnehviir for another time. “Do you possess any special skills?”

No worries!

The black wolf eased his submission once Constantine had acknowledged his show of respect. His head and ears relaxed and he let his tail hang comfortably. His expression was unrevealing in its neutrality as the swarthy leader said his piece. He did twitch an ear, however, at the question that was asked and briefly lifted his brows.

Jagwyr ran his tongue thoughtfully across the front of his teeth, producing a soft smacking noise as he stopped, shifting his jaw slightly. "Nope." He answered with a nonchalant roll of his shoulders. "I'm fit — eyes are sharp. Nose is keen. Old enough to know, young enough to do. I hunt. I defend." He paused, watching the male's face for an unfavorable change in expression. But even if there was one, his answer was the same. Summed up:

"I ain't fancy. Ain't special. But I earn my keep."

It was probably the direction of being upfront and honest that the wolf before him was aiming for, but it was a statement that impressed the dark wolf immensely – perhaps one of the best reasoning he had ever heard to the more frivolous questions at the borders. “Good,” he rumbled, a curt nod tipping toward the other before he loped forward, closing the distance between the two.
 
Jagwyr was large and thick –taller than the shadowrunner though the Mayfair displayed his placed trust in the other now as his jaws opened to gently grab at the others snout in a display of dominance and comradeship – welcoming the wolf to the ranks of the creek. Pulling away, he began to lead the swarthy male across the borders, his gaze narrowing in thought as it set out to the lands before them. “Because we have a lot of younger wolves in our ranks right now – and I need wolves that not only can do but are smart enough to follow pack law.”

There was a simple honesty in physical action (and in the primal sounds that were not made into words) that the black wolf appreciated. There was no concealing and no disguising the energy behind those movements and expressions. So it was with comfortable ease that he accepted Constantine's teeth around his snout, sliding his ears back and averting his gaze. They were pack now; the dark wolf his leader made.

"Hmm?" He fell into place behind the shoulder of the creek's alpha, ears lifted with interest as his eyes searched the side of Constantine's face, and noted the thoughtful focus there. "Trouble I should know about?"

The swarthy wolf fell in step alongside him. The motion was simple in its intention, and Constantine appreciated the feeling of camaraderie it elicited. He considered his words at the question – his gaze flicking back to study his companion before giving a light shrug.
 
He was not one to gossip, but the words that came from him now were nothing less than what he would say to the face of the individual himself: “There was an illegitimate breeding in our ranks this year. It would seem the male took advantage of the youth and naivety of the female.” He paused then, feeling his lips curl back in a disapproving smile – one of bitterness. Perhaps it was his soft spot for the youthful generation as he considered his younger siblings – if they had been taken advantage of, there would have been instant justice delivered.
 
“Needless to say, we’re a new pack, and are sorting out our laws and expectations.”

The black wolf grunted and tipped his snout down in a single agreeing nod.

"Fair enough," he said as the pair moved into the territory.