Phoenix Maplewood chapter three.

set to 1-22-2020

An injury would not delete in a singular day; alas, Uriel had come back after the defeat. She was a determined wolf, given that she would not easily retreat away from these woods just yet. There was other options to be explored, but her mind had set on this particular forest. Stubborn, she was, because she felt so desperate to find something of her own, it was an unwilling feeling to give in to her first stake.

Pained as she was, the golden wolf retreated back with guard. A glaring silver, watching the trees for familiar signs, or for another to come forth. Weakened, she would still fight with a hopeful victory.

Yesterday's attempt to better understand and get to know Dawn had taken a few solemn turns for both of them, as each shared snippets of their pasts and ideals for a bright future. Truthfully, Artyom felt a little guilty for his honesty, and as he trailed through the frosted trees of the neighbouring maplewood, he considered how he might apologise for any grim thoughts he was sure to have roused from their burial place in her mind.

His own had turned to Ana more often in a few hours than had in months, and he remembered with solemn fondness of all the memories they'd made together. She would've been his Queen, had all gone to plan; perhaps they'd be welcoming a litter in the Springtime, having had no desire to rush and reproduce the previous season. It was something they'd both discussed at length and, although she was lost to him, her last wish was for him to be happy.

An unfamiliar wolfess drew him from pondering, and Artyom lifted his chocolate gaze to better look upon her through the foliage. He paused to observe, curious, quietly wondering if she too had pledged to support the Whitebark pack, and chuffed softly to alert her to his location.

"Who are you?" Uriel was on edge since the attack- she would count herself a normally friendly wolf, however with recent events, she felt tilted to more rigid form. It could be clear she was on a more guarded note, but unlike the white dragon before, he did not show the same hostility. Nontheless, the word may of gotten out, and she dare not to let up just yet before his intentions are known. 

Who are you, and where are you from, stranger? She thought quietly, while waiting for his actions.

He noted an anxiety that hovered over the stranger and as he strode a few steps closer to better look upon her, he was certain that the nervous electricity intensified. A pair of sharp silver eyes turned on him and he halted again, unwilling to venture further into her space. He was curious about her, but held no desire to test or provoke her. 

"Artyom," he answered smoothly, canting a gilded ear, "of Whitebark Stream to the North of these woods. Who are you?"

She had greatly eased as the other respected boundries, telling her that Artyom meant no harm. A thankful nod toward the other, as she offered a small, but warm smile, "I am Uriel," said the golden wolf, "of Sunward." Unofficial as it was, with no wolves to call her own, she was still determined to call herself the Alpha of Sunward, and to make others known she would be about to stake her claim. Perhaps one day the dream could be reality.

When at last a smile came, the tension of his muscles slackened. He'd been prepared to back away should she decide his presence was unwanted and turned teeth on him, so to see her loosen her stress meant he could so likewise.

"Sunward," he repeated, curious to her pack's whereabouts considering how close she'd come to Whitebark territory. A claim to the North where he was unfamiliar, along the rugged coastline? "I have not heard this name. Do you make your home nearby?"

"I desire to," he was not someone she could recruit to become her people, for he had pledged to his own sanctuary, "here, is what I would like, though others are not keen on that thought." She said without hesitance, curious on what his reaction would be when she made her statement on trying to make this area her home. Scent was strong when Uriel first arrived, but dimished due to the need to flee from a dragon. 

She would try again, but she isn't sure anymore.

A prickle of guard hairs at his shoulders, when Uriel answered that she wished to make her claim within the maplewood. It wasn't suitable, he felt - it could be seen as a challenge to Dawn, having strangers set up camp on her border. Artyom at once didn't like the idea, though he held his tongue as she carried on to include that someone else had made that clear to her already.

He wondered who that might've been, more specifically if it'd been one of Whitebark's wolves who bested her. "This territory shares a border with ours," he informed her, though his tone was void of hostility, "we do not wish to compete with our neighbours for land or hunting ground." But we will, if we have to.

The change of behavior did not go unnoticed; she knew he was a pack wolf who would not enjoy rivarly around. Just as she was warned before by another, but this was not Legion, but of Whitebark Stream. The woods had neighbors, no matter where she would go, Uriel would be surrounded in it. Her own body bristled to a more guarded, matching his own. Intimidation wasn't a tactic used against the phoenix. 

"I see," she said, "Legion is near too?" Though while they changed, she needed the question. His undertoning threat was understood, but she chose to pretend it was not heard. Desirable as the area was, was it worth the risk of two neighbors, this close? Uriel couldn't deny holding a bit of resentment, a grudge toward herself for being so keen to the forest.

The tension was clear in her posture, likely contagious from his own. Artyom supposed it was appropriate for them both to be on edge: his pack was already well established, aiming to fully assert their claim in days to come; hers, unknown to him in numbers, could potentially be large or strong enough to invade.

He would wait for a time thought, aim to fish as much information Uriel would be willing to provide, and deliver it to Dawn for her consideration. With this in mind, Artyom made a mental note to mind what he shared with the gilded stranger for fear of placing Whitebark under threat.

"I have never heard of Legion," he blinked, wondering if this name belonged to one of the Southern claims he'd sniffed on the wind as a loner, after he had found his former Lost Creek comrades to have vanished. He knew they were there but had not investigated, choosing instead to veer around them in favour of the Teekon's Northern territories. "Were they the ones to warn you away from this place?"

Perhaps they were far enough that they didn't need to fight- but Uriel assumed, they would clash one day with the shared hunting ground. It was a far too pleasant place to give up to another, for even she held that reluctance as well, but came without a powerful aid to chip into that fight.

"They were. A white dragon fought and defeated me, and warned of my doing."

His suspicion confirmed, Artyom regarded the golden she-wolf with a contemplative frown. Perhaps he would've clashed with her too, in defence of Whitebark, had she made attempt to assert dominance over him so close to his home. He was glad, however, to maintain a neutrality for as long as she would. The ranger found no great thrill in a fight.

"What made you come back?" She'd been bested once, and Artyom was curious to know if she thought herself capable of winning a second round should she cross the path of a pallid champion.

"I want a home, my home." She still had an injury with a scabbed shoulder, shown by the recent defeat, but so desperate to place her land, she came back regardless of damage. There wasn't confidence, only sheer determination if a fight were to begin, Uriel would fight. However like she shown no signs, he did not show signs of trying to warn her off away. For now, they would remain happily neutral.

"Do you think I am a fool for this?" The golden wolf was called one by the other, but did he think the same?

He could understand her reason, to an extent. It was the way of many wolves, to disperse their home land and seek somewhere new where they might find their purpose. But to have been easily beaten by someone clearly stronger over territory and return for more? He supposed she could be considered foolish.

"It is not my place to say," he answered simply, rolling a shoulder. She was not one of his own, instead a loner with ambition, and if she wished to knowingly provoke the locals in attempt to claim the maplewood then Artyom would not put himself in harm's way to protect her. "I would suggest looking elsewhere before making a final decision, though."

"I see," she didn't know what to expect from him. A compliment? An agreement? Internally she was hoping for more, but didn't pressure further from a stranger. There wasn't a point, when this was may be the last time she saw of him, and didn't fish for more.

"Perhaps." More then unwilling, but she couldn't deny the suggestion would be a more reasonable solution to a fiasco, "you are north?" Very close, they too are unwilling to give it up.

She appeared a little deflated, and Artyom wondered if perhaps she'd been fishing for a reaction from him. Hostility? Surely not, considering her run-in with the "white dragon". He blinked, unleashed, unwilling to make attempt at asserting dominance in a repeat of her last encounter in the maplewood.

"We are," he answered simply, certain she'd have sniffed them out by now if she had taken the time to map territory that she desired to claim. It was then that he considered presenting an opportunity to seek audience with Dawn, but decided against it; Uriel clearly wished for something to call her own. Artyom couldn't risk upsetting the balance he'd found in Whitebark with a potential challenger. 

"I see." Truly was surrounded.. A constant fight for what could be, competition with established packs while she had no one upon her side. Uriel met a few, but sadly none came to her ward, and she respected their decision. Couldn't grab them all, but at least she would continue trying.

"I will be on my way. It was nice to meet you." Uriel wished to be left in thought, alone somewhere.

Uriel announced her departure, to which Artyom dipped his muzzle politely. "Likewise," the gilded ranger responded to her pleasant regard of their meeting, and offered a thin smile. "Good luck to you."

He lingered for a moment, stealing one last look of the rogue wolfess to gather a clear description to provide his leader, before turning away to carry on with his wanderings.