Twisted Slough how neatly spreads his claws

Following this thread.

For a long while after being "escorted" from the Redhawks premises, Svalinn took up an irascible pace and forged forward in confident lead of the banished Eyjolfur troupe. Born of his natural, and recently sharpening intuition, he began towards the coast like a homing pigeon, bearing with him little to no understanding of what had just transpired in his former pack. He could conclude nothing of the situation for himself except that every fang shown to his mother had been unjust. And it was this bias— perhaps the same breed of bias that had found them ousted— that gave him the indignant prance he proceeded with now; for in his mind was seeded a thick root of assurance that @Caiaphas could do no wrong.

Raleska's presence only solidified the boy's guard-march, as he needed both her support and the task of protecting her to feel useful, and knowing that both she-wolves were behind him compelled the golden child to progress onward without thought. The sky was darkening, and the terrain ahead had continued to grow thick and more perilous before he remembered their densite on the plateau, and the particularly cushy life they were leaving behind...

He slowed until he came shoulder-to-shoulder with the hooded ursula, and he huffed. "What happened back there anyway?" he bellyached. "Why'd we have to leave instead of them?"

ahead svalinn plowed forth, the dark form of raleska sullenly giving heel. caiaphas was left to her own inward thoughts for some time, carefully reflecting back on the unhappy circumstance that prompted their abrupt exodus.

she had been wrong, of course, to approach the redhawks so brashly. they were a thickly knit and obstinate bunch, united by blood as well as bullheadedness. her method of extraction could have been smoother - maybe she would have won them over if she had not been so bold. she was not sorry to leave, though she did not favor the season in which they made their untimely departure. it would be saltwinter all over again, she thought bemusedly.

she was extracted from her sulky examination by the presence of svalinn's golden hide alongside her. drawing her attention to him in a spidery gaze, she blinked and considered how best to answer. "we had to leave because we don't belong." she started, knowing she was perhaps oversimplifying it -- he deserved the whole truth. "we may look like them and talk like them, but we are not the same.

"raven was gone and the alpha position was vacant. but before raven was gone, things were not that different either. it was almost like her absence left an opening. strong wolves take that opening. weak ones titter and fret by it." she ran her tongue across the mottled surface of her gnarled muzzle, discontent with the day's unraveling but not the journey before them. "i aimed to challenge raven because we needed a real leader -- a strong one -- but she had too strong a backing. if you cannot fight one-on-one, you will never win..  a dumb wolf will press those odds, and a dumb wolf will die. smart ones run.

we are fortunate we are not dead, but that is because they are weak. their weakness will be their unraveling, eventually."

Says AW so thought I'd throw him in but let me know if you want me to pull him out :)

He didn't know where he was but that didn't matter too much. The cooled air warned him of the oncoming season and every prey and predator knew what it meant. The time for most things to wither was on their doorstep. It was a hard life for someone but he was well into his life and knew what to do. It was just the matter of actually doing it.

It was a voice and the scent of multiple that dragged him forth. Words spoken with such power hidden in them. The words sent a shiver down his spine and a lazy grin on his face.

"their weakness will be their unraveling, eventually."

Oi. He called softly as he pulled ever closer. It's all of our unraveling in the end but I suppose it must be closer for them. He commented without introduction, feeling no need to be invited into the conversation.

When prompted by Svalinn to explain the trials of those wolves beholden to strength and progression over tender bonds like blood or marriage, the Eyjolfur matriarch did not disappoint. The boy became  learned on several lasting lessons at once— chiefly that dumb wolves died dumb and that he never wanted to be like the Redhawks, who were too afraid (or too offended) to treat non-familial members with any fairness— but he hadn't even a second to process a response to any of this when an unfamiliar voice barked out to the trio.

The aurelian boy went rigid, whipping his wiry frame towards the unidentified source of virile energy and meeting the would-be challenger with a stiff brawler's glare. Stay back, his inept stance demanded, while a long, wavering thread of a growl tacked on the wishfully assertive lie that his balls had dropped.

you're more than welcome! just sorry about the not-so-welcome wagon <3

a soft voice punctuated the air, followed by the dark-backed slithering of a storm-battered guardian. caiaphas' gaze raked brazenly across his withered form, no amount of approval in her unsettlingly pinched face.

alongside her svalinn's posture flushed, climbing to an assertive height with a quiet growl simmering between his white teeth. she drew herself between svalinn and raleska, as if a ward against the wizened patriarch's presence. "or for you - most wolves know better than to approach a trio of strangers." she tacked on a rather pointed stare; the recent events had all but eviscerated her already thinning patience, and she was in little mood to entertain visitors.

The stranger seemed to take the hint, sauntering around them and beyond until he was out of sight. Svalinn didn't see fit to relax until the brawler was gone, and even then his hackles were hard pressed to lie completely flat. He was aware of something innate in him that wanted to turn tail and run back to the plateau - back to his den - where everything was familiar and safe and warm. Grief pierced him as he swallowed this fearful desire and experienced, for the first time with understanding, the fetid taste of packlessness.

It was only this - just the three of them.

It would be harder than he had ever known, and also the most rewarding. He would learn his limits, and increase them; he would go hungrier than he ever had, and find no greater victory than catching prey on a desperate stomach. Svalinn would be weakened by this journey, and then irrevocably steeled by it: the long, arduous re-forging of the Eyjolfur kingdom. A daunting, though necessary build that would take up as much of his life as it had his mother's.