Gyrfalcon's Keep who we are

for @Kore

the rain does not come as a surprise to wintersbane, who seeks shelter from the cold of it that seeps thru thick, and coarse winter pelage he's grown. the cold doesn't bother him but the damp drives a chill into his bones that even the tundrian in him could not entirely ward off. he left stavanger bay in the early tresses of the morning on a recruitment drive but now is left to dwell in the shadow of the gyrfalcon's stony keep that rises like a titan's little tooth out of the earth; and beneath the stare of their beady eyes.

for once, the birds are quiet; no doubt riding out the worst of the rain same as he. still, he keeps his ears, eyes and nose alert all the same as he pushes thru the woodland that sprouts 'round the stony rise.

word count: 143

The sea-bound weather was not kind to the two-legged beast who abducted her and others from the court, though it was the ultimate price to pay for stealing away warriors chosen by the gods to fulfill their own selfish needs;

The wrath of Poseidon himself

Said landing was not without a few scrapes and injuries of course, and the deep gnash present on Kore's shoulder still bled actively, but it was better than suffering the brunt of this disastrous wreckage in the first place. For all the amazonian knew, her fellow warriors were probably drowned out by the waves as the ocean's punishment for not swimming to safety. Unfortunate since she had to walk these sandy shores alone, but Kore would not sit around to mourn those who threw away their will to live.

Now there was rain slicking down her feathery pelt and spreading the blood from her wound like a watercolor painting on its canvas. It's scent might be soon to attract unwarranted company, so it was best to scout out a place of rest before things got out of hand.

Kore's sights were soon to land on a shadowed area near the small mountain, but just as she began making her way towards it, the sound of grassy footsteps made it's presence clear. The femora froze and turned her attention towards whatever was approaching from the shadows -- whatever predator assumed to have smelled her wounds that she'll either need to fight or escape from...

having spent a fair share of time around wolfdogs, wintersbane knows that familiar scent that is wolf but is not; polar gaze only serves to reaffirm that her pelage, long and wispy was not a wolven in it’s nature. the second thing he notes, as his steps pause and he observes her in the distance between, is the poignant scent of blood. it rises even above the musky scent of damp, loamy earth.

wintersbane lets out a low chuff to announce his presence; all the while trying to remember if ironclan recruited a healer or if any of their numbers had knowledge. there had been one but he hasn’t seen the boy in some time and does not linger upon him as an option.

word count: 124

This "Predator" in question was not a predator at all, but an individual that came from the same race as Kore's. Well, half of her race. Not she nor anyone else could mistake the blood of human-raised hybrids that imbeded itself in both her scent and appearance. And while these genetics always seemed to stir up controversy and discrimination back in the court, it didn't bother Kore one bit. The she-wolf was perfectly capable of everything else a wolf could do, if not better and more efficiently.

The amazon took a moment to visually size her company up -- both his pelt and eyes were the embodiment of winter's unforgiving storm and he bore the body of a well-seasoned warrior. If this was back home, the army surely would've tried recruiting him based on his physical build alone. And Kore wouldn't have blamed them either -- it would be a waste not to when presented with so much potential.

She returned his chuff and briefly tipped her chin upwards in short greeting, though her hardened eyes still observed his movements with caution. Whatever he wanted with her was beyond the woman's knowledge as of now...

his chuff is returned by her, but she offers no words. he is used to his initial invitation bringing about conversation but perhaps she is weary of him ( rightfully so, if she were ). he is unsure what caused her wound and for all he knows it could’ve been another wolf. it strikes him as a bit selfish to attempt to recruit her while she is injured but at the same time, wintersbane wasn’t the type to waste opportunities when he finds them. with that in mind, he stays still but opts to break the silence previously broken only by their chuffs.

i’m wintersbane, he introduces ( sure to do it first lest he just go thru the whole conversation without offering it ) saltking of ironclan. we claim the bay just west of here. he supplies with a small gesture of his muzzle in stavanger bay’s direction. we had a healer lurking about, wintersbane says sheepishly. was it true? he wasn’t sure. but when he apprehended the boy he was stealing plants from the bay and that was good enough for wintersbane. i haven’t seen him in a while but i know a few basic things. i could take a look at that wound, if you’d let me.

he’s careful not to push. they are strangers, her temperament unknown. the choice, for the hidden promise of potential recruitment and for him to look at her wound, remains her own.

word count: 237