Redhawk Caldera journey

@Towhee and/or @Killdeer ?

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— he had fashioned himself quite the roamer. from open plain to shimmering lake, and now this piece of territory within the ever sprawling mental map he created.
ridgeback ignored the grumble of his belly and instead focused on the drifting of scents. the smell of wolves lingered here; thick and undeniable. his bright eyes peer around what he might as he approaches the entrance of the caldera.
rather awkwardly. tail swaying quietly amongst his hind legs, and his head turning to investigate what his eyes could see. then; a bark, not timid, but perhaps unsure. squaring himself should some beast come hauling into him from the growth.

Killdeer was a friendly fellow, and as he sought to expand his fledgling pack's ranks, the sight of an unfamiliar face should have brought him a sense of hope, albeit tinged with wariness.

In the midst of Amalia's heat, however? Not so much.

The man was tall and broad-shouldered, and he answered the call with a bark of his own, then eased down the slope with his brow slightly furrowed. His stare was gimlet, chin lifted in appraisal of the stranger before him.

What can I do for you? Killer asked, polite but firm.

---

— ridgeback’s paranoia goes unfounded. though this man wasn’t the most friendly feller he’d encountered so far, he wasn’t baring teeth and bristling tail. ridgeback’s ears perk upwards atop a red-emblazoned head, candle eyes briefly pausing in observation.
a well-built man, darker-furred, and furrowed brows. ridgeback shuffles his paws, giving a shake of his shoulder and letting flop down a wrapped hide of his collectibles. bones, a few sprigs of yarrow, and dried cuts of meat from a hare and squirrel.
then a smile. hello! it is his best friendly greeting he can muster, before clearing his throat stiffly, tilting his head to peer around the man curiously. this is your settlement? i’m a traveler, or, was. i’m looking to… stop being a traveler.
he cringes at his bad explanation.

It is, he replied, relaxing a bit as the other man proved friendly, at least on the surface. This is Redhawk Caldera, and my name is Killdeer.

He gave the traveler a brief once-over, assessing his size and scope. We could use some brawn, if you're looking to settle down, Killdeer told him, voice frank. Even better if you're able to scout out new recruits.

But perhaps he was getting ahead of himself.

Where're you from, originally? he asked, finally allowing a smile to touch his muzzle. He did not plan to rule this place with an iron fist, after all. Strength was important, but so was diplomacy in equal measure.

---

— ridgeback watches the other wolf speak, tail giving a quiet flick behind him, a conversational smile pasted upon pale mouth. the man didn’t posture or preach, and that was good enough for ridgeback to listen without bracing for insult.
nice to meet you, killdeer. my mother named me ridgeback.
tail swaying at hocks, he shrugs once, a lazy, one-shouldered gesture, giving his nose a swipe of his tongue. i've come a long ways. i'm not from anywhere around here, a basin called redmire bastion. it was a small pack, mostly family. ridgeback admits with a furrow of brows.
he pauses, then adds, a bit dryly, but i left. turns out some wolves don’t like sarcasm. but! got a good nose, strong legs, and i know how to shut up when it counts. i bet i could rustle you up some recruits.
and that was mostly half-true.

Nothing in Ridgeback's introduction rang any bells; he was, truly, a wanderer. He continued to smile along with his words, and broke into a grin at that last bit.

Sarcasm, huh? Killdeer remarked, chuckling. My Gramma would love you.

Again, he looked the man over, examining his scope, his strength. Not that he was calculating things on that level—any body would do, at this point. He had found no darkness nor sour notes in the stranger, after all.

Could we persuade you to stay? he asked Ridgeback, cocking his head. We'll take recruits, too—but you'd be more than welcome.

— ridgeback laughs, low and genuine, rolling easy from his chest. granny’s got good taste, he quips, tail giving a lazy flick behind him.

his grin softens then, mouth pulling into something quieter. more grounded. persuade me? he echoes, tone thoughtful. then a shrug. you already did. i ain’t looking to drift anymore. wind’s nice, but it doesn’t keep you warm at night.

he glances sidelong, candlelit eyes warm with the flicker of a smile. so long as no one minds the bad jokes and worse singing, i’m in.

Killdeer exhaled in relieved laughter, shaking his head. Welcome home, then, he told the man, his nod accompanied by a smile. I'll show you up to the rendezvous.

Normally, he'd let the man explore his new home on his own. With Amalia still in heat, though, he felt all the more protective and guarded.

He nodded up toward the path. Up there, he remarked, and began to trot that way. 

Killdeer was not an overly jealous man; he could bear this man living here while Amalia dealt with her season. He had already lain with her, after all. And he trusted his mate to use discretion.

He glanced over his shoulder. You hungry? Killdeer asked.

ridgeback’s ears flick as he follows, a low chuckle humming in his throat. always, he replies easily, falling into step behind killdeer with practiced ease. the path winds upward, but he moves light despite his build, used to uneven ground and long hauls.

got some dried meat in my stash, he adds, more conversational now, eyes scanning the ridge as they climb. but if you’re offering fresh, i won’t say no.

Dried meat? Killdeer asked, grinning. You get better and better, Ridgeback.

The two meandered up the paths toward the caldera's heights, chatting along the way. He would steer Amalia away from the man during her heat—just in case—but remained grateful for the new presence.

Things were progressing. This was good.