Emberwood I put the pedal to the floor

AW, tagging @Cyrena for interest!

The sun had begun to set, sending the mountain's shadow over the forest bit by bit. The air began to cool as inch by inch the shadow grew longer and longer. Bronco was patrolling along the Eastern borders, and could see that it would be the gloaming soo- for now, he could simply exist, roving along the borders in the waxing, golden hour.

This time of day wasn't often wasted by travel. Though, for those who had no place, the body needed to be kept afloat. 

Scents in the air came anew. Packs and coalitions alike had grown in number. It was known that many had begun to change within this wilderness. If to stay in one place, there would be no easy time escaping those with the mind to chase away strangers. 

White fur flew from every angle. Such thickness would not lay still, for the evening breeze would not allow it. Each nip tensed the muscles. Why did it loathe her so?

Just a few more steps, then... soon shelter could be found and feet could be let to rest.

He hoped that Spring's warmth would come soon. To be rid of the cool wind, and the snow underfoot would be a blessing. He promised himself this year that he would not take the summer months for granted; they'd create caches where prey could be stored, and fatten themselves up as much as possible for winter. 

He still had a bit of weight left to put back on, but had begun to look significantly more like himself now than he had a few months ago. And now, when he saw a stranger wandering in the distance, he did not immediately cower or try to slip away. He tested the air; she smelled free of disease, and as though she was on her own- so he told himself this wasn't a threat. This was potentially someone who could help make the pack stronger. He had to have that mindset if he wanted Arcana to grow, and he really didn't want to let Fennec down. 

They had yet to establish what their border protocol was but Bronco was an innately kind wolf, and uttered a quiet chuff to get her attention, hopefully without surprising her, and kept his expression calm but friendly as he approached.

There had been silence, and nothing but.

Had..

A gust of air blew; this from vocals, rather nature.

Someone had called. No longer alone was the white one who walked.

Haste was made as the figure jerked, snout swinging around the shoulder before the rest of the body could follow in turn. Out of instinct, a lip curled; ears pointed; muscles stiffened; shoulders fell into a defensive stance.

This stranger was careful upon approach, but that would not turn away regard for caution.

Nothing would be spoken. They had come first, so it is only right they speak first.

The stranger was wary, immediately defensive. The mien of a guardian, he thought; he was reminded of Desdemona, who had had the same, steely gaze. He bobbed his head in a greeting and flicked his ears forward, licking his chops to show there was no tension in his jaw. He stopped when he figured he was close enough to speak without crowding her space. Some wolves needed that space. 

"Hey there," He called out. I'm Bronco. This is, uh, well," He said, with a guilty shrug. "It's not strictly claimed yet, but this forest here is where me and my family call home. I'm just out, y'know, doin' a border patrol here. You, uh...Just passin' by? Or lookin' for somewhere to live?" Maybe too much information, but at least he wasn't beating around the bush.

Not a threat. Such information was inferred quickly.

This man held a lame posture, with muscles at ease. He spoke quickly as to not keep hold of an eerie silence. Much was said; but all information was carefully taken into note.

The white one lifted her crown, leveling the same, stern gaze.

My paws ache from hours upon them. The mist thins an eased line of sight. There was hope that a quiet place could be found to rest. Do you know of such place? Now there was more of a plead within the given expression. Exhaustion was visible, as was a lack of nutrition. While the skill to hunt never ceased, the season made the sport far more difficult.

He'd initially thought her coldness was indicative of a need for self-preservation. But in her voice there was a flatness that made her words seem all the more poignant. She was exhausted- long days spent travelling had worn her down. His first instinct was to welcome her in, find her a meal, snd a safe place to sleep. 

But could she be trusted? Was she a spy? Was there a chance she might have been sent to breach their borders so that others might follow and take over the Emberwood? His nose twitched; she smelled like she'd been alone for some time. He considered that he shouldn't be so kind to every stranger that passed by- but he was a sympathetic guy. 

He nodded. "C'mon. We can find you a place to rest. There's kind of a nice spot near the river this way," He had plans for creating a pack resting place deep within the heart of the pack in the lee of the mountain- but reserved for packmates. The place he thought of now was one of his many napping spots. "It's not far," He reassured her, kindly.

Unsure, he was. This could be understood. A stranger wandering upon a land one intends to claim as their own? Most would be hostile, but this man was a bit more understanding and sympathetic towards her needs and desires.

His kindness would be welcomed, but a form of trust would be lain aside until they knew more of each other.

You have my thanks. The woman replied, giving as much softness to the vocals as possible.

Trotting closer, white fur flared as she moved to walk alongside him.

Having given your name, it would only be fair I give mine. Cyrena is my given birth name, but most simply call me Ren or Rena.. whichever suites your tongue better.

For my own curiosity- how do you pronounce Cyrena? My brain says see-RAY-na but I was wondering if it was sigh-REE-na, see-REE-na or the same as Serena or something else :)

She had every reason to be wary of him. They were both trying to put their trust in a complete stranger. After all, for all she knew, he could've been leading her into his fold of wicked wolves. They both had high stakes. But in trusting strangers, Bronco often felt the trust would be returned.

"Cyrena," He repeated, looking to see if he had pronounced it correctly. She offered abbreviations, but he thought her full name was too pretty to cut short. She was very graceful, as well. "How long've you been travelling for?" He asked.

It would be more like ser-ee-nah. A bit odd, given the spelling, but I find the pronunciation to be more suitable in sound.

The given name was repeated. Then he looked to the white woman, as if for confirmation. 

One syllable had been off. 

Cyrena. The correction was made promptly, but gently, as to not offend him. He had done no wrong by her, so why should he be scorned for it?

My travels have spanned for a majority of my life. I parted from my family at a young age... at the age of a year, or so.

I like it :) I just like to make sure my brain is pronouncing names right hehe.

He had an a-ha moment when she corrected his pronunciation, and he realized where his error had been. It felt important, to him, to pronounce a wolf's name right. Names were sentimental to many wolves, passed down from one generation to the next. They had meaning, associations. 

He was impressed to hear that she had been travelling for a year. She couldn't have been much more than two years old, he thought, if that. The only mark of time or experience that he could see was the faint blunting of one eartip. But a year, spent roving? Something to be admired, for sure, as it flexed her survival skills. But he found himself feeling sorry for her. "Woah. You must've seen a lot of different environments, then," He said. "What was your favourite?" He asked.

Just for the purpose of clarification "...nearly a year or so." was meant more as she left on her own at the age of a year. Sorry if that was unclear when written. I altered that bit in my last post so it would be a bit less confusing.

While though the time spent travelling had been extensive, it was never much considered in a revered way. Such was simply considered living and nothing more.

I never much stayed in one place for too long. There was nowhere to like.. or to grow comfortable. I suppose.. after a while, I grew used to always being kept on my feet.

To be realistic, it was a depressing tale.

Who ever just wandered the earth like they were trapped in a maze? For some, that was just how things were. Not all wolves had a pack to lean on — or even a family, for that matter.

Oh! It was clear to me :D Bronco just has no idea how to gauge age so he figures if she's two, she'd have spent a year travelling :3 Little does he know ;)

He'd hoped she might have a story about her travels- and describe a desert to him, or what it was like to see something he'd never seen. She didn't have much to say, though- and he realized he probably shouldn't be pestering her for stories when she was this tired. He hoped his question hadn't seemed inconsiderate.

Still, he was curious. She seemed to be travelling alone- but pointing that out seemed like it might be kind of rude. "I admire those who travel. I've never really been able to. I kind of stuck around either my own pack, or like...One of our allies, so I could help take care of my younger siblings." He admitted. And then time had stretched on; more siblings had been born, and then everything went off the rails. "My mate's a lot better about travelling than I am," He admitted, "But I think we're gonna make this forest our home. We're still figurin' out the details, but...It's been a kind place to live, so far." He said. "Of course, I'm a spoiled homebody. I like having caches to raid whenever I'm hungry an' a nice comfy place to sleep when I'm tired," He admitted.

It soon came to be that Cyrena understood the purpose of his query. They were years apart in age, leaving the thought of travel awed in his mind.

It is good that you stayed to help with family. Leading a pack is much like caring for a family.. in many more ways than one. Pale eyes studied the young man. They were soft, now; full of both admiration and sincerity. Much could be told about his personality from this alone.

Don't fret over details. If it is the will of our guidance above, it shall happen. All you need worry about is watching over your home and those who inhabit it.

The woman's words were starting to make her sound older than she was, but they were true nonetheless. Hopefully Bronco would heed them, rather than make the mistake of those who fell to paranoia and stress, later giving up on their goals and desires.