Blackfoot Forest Aislingean

Where the forest kissed the mountain, Kinloch found a place to rest.

The sun had fallen to make room for darkness. Stars glittered overhead, through the trees, and where the foliage had opened up to reveal the sky. As the silver-furred man padded onward, he found himself drawn to the territory and its surroundings. If this was the first he would see of new land, he could not wait for what rested beyond the mountains.

Kinloch carried a small rabbit in his teeth. As he settled onto his belly to eat, his eyes shifted to watch the dancing leaves in the trees.

Far from the view of the fading stones and rolling green upland, the forest proliferates with a tantalizing prick of blood, clogging the air and her nose with its sweetness. She should be wary in this wood and take the kill as a warning that nearby is it’s master. She maneuvers anyway between the firs, lapping at driveling jowls, expecting to see a fox or coyote or black bear, even.

But it’s a wolf unknown to her, shades of mountain granite and big as one too, a hare settled between his paws. She’d had half a mind to turn back and hunt elsewhere, but decided to push out between the trees with her nose anyway, and make a cautious approach.

“That’s quite a smell,” she comments with a low swing of tail and an amiable show of teeth.

An earthy woman appeared from the brush. Her voice sounded for him, unfamiliar and alluring. Kinloch was surprised with himself. He did not think that he could be approached by sneaking paws. The stranger's scent and her steps had gone unnoticed.

I'd be willing to share for a bit of company, the silver-furred man offered in response.

Kinloch lifted his head, prouder than he had been when he believed he was alone. The man inhaled to fill his chest. Imposing, yes, but the man wore a warm smile and his eyes were welcoming.

She blinks, perplexed at her own words. It was an insane way to initiate conversation with a stranger. But somehow it managed to work and she’d even landed a meal, so she makes a mental note to store that away for future use.

“Then I shall try to be the good kind,” she pledges with a grin and joins him in the shade, endeavoring to be a polite guest and not slabber over his kill- though little seemed to sate her appetite these days, and there was even less she could keep down. She hoped it wouldn’t be the case here.

He must be a new recruit, or a lone wolf. She’s never seen him before and he lacks a scent from the valley’s packs. “I’m Tauris,” she introduces with a tip of her muzzle. “You are new around here?”

She accepted with a grin and drew closer to join him in the shade.

Kinloch, ever the gentleman, nudged the rabbit toward her. She could have all she wanted from the thing. If she finished it off, he could hunt again. It felt proper and he held no resentment toward her for taking advantage of a free meal.

Tauris, she introduced herself as. The silver man smiled and bowed his head. The moniker suited her. There was something about the wet-earth brown of her face and the watchful light of her stare that seemed to fit the name she offered. Strange as it might seem, Kinloch wondered if a name was something one grew into or if they were born into it, fitting it with their first breath.

I'm Kinloch. It's a pleasure. Something about his voice suggested that he meant this.

And you have a good eye, miss Tauris. I'm as new as a fledgling to these lands.

They were infinitely beautiful, he wished to say. Instead, his tail wavered and he regarded his company with warmth in his bronze gaze.

Kinloch. It’s a name that evokes the rugged North and an ache for the cold as summer casts its heat upon the valley. Strong and elegant, suiting well the silver stranger as he slides his kill towards her.

Dangerous, she thinks. Her mewling stomach threatens to devour the meat just as urgently as she desires. But she refrains, if only because he’s called her ‘miss’ and she suspects a feral display might horrify the well-mannered man. She takes a dainty bite instead.

“It’s your scent, actually,” she reveals between chews before pausing, an embarrassed flush sprawling over her cheeks. She needs to stop talking about smells. “You do not have any of the valley packs on your…musk.” She grins, she can feel there’s sinew stuck in her teeth. Charming.

She swipes her mouth with a tongue and offers the remaining rabbit to him before she finishes it off herself.

“Planning to stay long? I could introduce you to the packs, if you like,” she offers, concluding it’s the least she can do after he’d been so kind as to share his catch, and tolerate her awkward company.

Aha, a good nose then! My apologies.

Kinloch chuckled.

He liked that she was straight forward. Small efforts to clean herself up, but Tauris was a woman of the earth and she carried a capable air about her. It was something to be admired, he felt. She did not seem the type of woman to be taken advantage of.

You know, I would appreciate that very much. Are you familiar with many of them? The nearby packs.

Kinloch's interest had been piqued. He wanted to know more about the wolves who occupied the new ground on which he traveled. The few he had come across in his travels had been strange and unheard of to a man of his background. He had taken an active interest in all that they would share with him. The packs of these lands would be no different, he hoped.

Spirits, he’s sweet. Why is he apologizing? She stretches out to finish grooming her toes and the pads of her feet before returning his look.

“All of them,” she’ll smile. “There’s three. I’ll give you the rundown:

“First there’s Swiftcurrent Creek. Warriors. Big. Strong. A little elusive. We think of them as the valley’s first line of defense should anything happen- though don’t worry. It’s mostly peaceful here,” she grins.

“Then Riverclan. They’re healers. Very wise. Very honorable. You know the type.”

“Last is Kvarsheim. Come to think of it, there’s not really an identifying trait about them… except they work hard and are sort of like a big family of misfits.” House hufflepuff, if such a thing existed in the realm of wolves. “That’s where I live.”

“So now Kinloch- where to?” Her tail flicks into a low wag.

The silver wolf was fixated on her, swallowing the information she shared about the packs in the valley. There were warriors of the creek. A clan of healers with honor. And the last pack she mentioned was the one where she made her home - misfits who had created a family. Truth be told, Kinloch thought they sounded as though they complimented each other.

When asked where they would go first, the man's brow creased thoughtfully. He hummed over the options, weighing the best choice. Of the three, he thought he might fit well in with the wolves of the creek. If they were the type to protect and defend, Kinloch wished to share in their knowledge.

Yet, he couldn't help but to think that there was only one right answer.

To Kvarsheim. After all, if they lured you into their ranks… it must be a pretty good place.

A dazzling twinkle found his bronze stare.

She felt a little heat rise to her cheeks beneath his eyes. Was this flirting? He is handsome- incredibly so, and she’d always enjoyed playful exchanges. But some part wonders if spending the day with this man might upset Fig. They were not explicitly eachother’s, even if she craved to be despite a flimsy ego that refused to ask for so bold a thing outright. She supposses if their roles were reversed she’d claw out the eyes of any woman who dares look his way.

Kinloch has such lovely, deep chestnut eyes. She resolves to tread a little more carefully, just in case.

“A wise choice,” she grins but quickly directs away to a parting through the trees. “I know all the best places.”

What kind of pack is it? Kvarsheim.

It seemed like a silly question after it had fallen from his lips. Kinloch wondered how he might elaborate on such a broad query.

See, I was born in a large family pack. It was a good place to grow up. I understand that not all homes are like this. Some are created with the intent to fill a need. Some are hostile even!

Kinloch did not believe that Tauris belonged to a pack of hostile wolves. She seemed charming and polite, in the short time he'd spent with her. There was a rough-edged honesty that she wore on her words. The pale man found that he liked that. Foreign as they were, there were things to admire about the woman.

“Oh- we’re exceedingly hostile,” a face turned dark cautions, “me especially. But don’t worry. You’re on my good side for now.” She flashes her teeth and trots beside him along the narrow footpath.

“I wouldn’t know how to compare it, to be honest. I don’t have much experience in packs. I dispersed at one and was on my own like you until a few months ago,” she admits. Now she’s a beta to a clan and has a kid and a Fig who’s children she’s carrying. It was a lot of change that has come quickly and that she’d spent no time processing yet.

"Our land itself is... unique. You'll see," The corners of her mouth tug up into a grin. To watch another marvel at the ancients is to experience seeing them again for the first time.

“Sounds like you are close with your family,” She peeks up into his silver profile, “why leave home?”

The pale man took her at face-value. His eyes shifted to her features with a blatant expression of surprise. Hostile? It must have been a joke. His lips curved into a crooked smile and his head shook. Kinloch could not help but chuckle. Tauris was unlike anyone he had met before. Her sense of humor was unfamiliar to him, but it was not unwelcome. If anything, he found her all the more interesting - each thing that she shared about herself was a new layer.

As they walked, she spoke a bit about her history. Their experiences did not seem too dissimilar.

When she mentioned that his family seemed close, Kinloch nodded his head.

I think it is part of becoming a man, if it must come down to one thing, his voice rumbled thoughtfully from his mouth. Something in me said that I must go and learn and become something greater. This would bring the most honor to my family and what they taught me.

What was your homeland like? Do you remember much of it?

He left home to become greater. It was such a foreign idea to her. Most young wolves she knew vacated to find a future elsewhere, obtain breeding rights and start their own families. She frisked a step ahead so she could look at him as they strolled.

“Then are you to return enlightened? After what- defeating a bear or something?” It was a tease, but also a question, too. How did one become great?

“You shared your kill with me today when you did not have to, I think that is great,” she shrugged. “I’m not sure how greatness can be pursued, maybe it just ensues, by doing great things.” In which case Kinloch already seemed great. She wondered what he felt he had to prove and gave a toss of her head.

“My home was very cold. The mountain, and the people,” she laughs. “Prey was scarce the year my litter dispersed. The north does not make living easy. Not like here, in the valley, where everything is peaceful.”