Moonspear Everyone sees what you appear to be

After a tryst here and there, some unfinished businesses, affairs and adventures (for the lack of a better term), the lady, clad in ash and silver, had returned to the wilds again. Though brief her stay may have been here, Norah had decided that throughout winter months, spring, perhaps, she needed some entertainment. Otherwise facing the dark barren times with cold and hunger appeared neither appealing, nor interesting. And if there was one thing she hated most in the world - it was boredom. 

Moonspear had not been her first choice to settle, but the distinct scent of the mountain pack reminded her of a certain dark she-wolf she had met half a year ago. If this was, where she lived (and after sniffing around the borders, Norah was sure she was), then without doubt she would have a good time, even if the rest of the pack would turn out to be hopelessly dull. So, without much hesitation, she called for an audience, then sat down and waited patiently.

He was near the border when the call rose.

Their borders, at least part of them, had gone quiet with the departure of Osiris and a handful of his (now former) subordinates, though Moonspear itself had been relatively quiet. With their forces divided into thirds—part to find Mira, part to stay there, and part claiming the glen—he had opted to linger closer to home on the off chance that Mira did in fact turn up. The days had stretched out and though contained, his worry had grown with each evening.

Dirge hoped that perhaps the caller along the borders would have been one of the various faces he had met in recent past, but as he arrived there he found it was neither Henryk or Zsuzsa. She bore a striking resemblance of notable interest to others he had seen, though one particular face crossed his mind—the father of Nyx’s daughters, Mahler. But it was there and gone in an instant; he played it off on a weary mind instead.

Leaving the advantageous crop of cover he had descended into, he made himself known. Mute interest played in his gaze but his features kept their relative stoicism save the raise of a brow to do his speaking for him. It was not a difficult feat to slip into the unspoken language of a leader, and it exuded from his stature and the lock of his gilded, unwavering gaze.

She had called for an audience and well, she had one now.

A call for audience was heard, and Desdemona followed down to the mountains. She saw a gray figure, but alongst with her Alpha Dirge to the meeting. He was quick already, most likely closer, and so the guard dipped a greeting toward him, before slinking behind in the shadows watching the figure.

Now that Moonspear had dropped a few toward Firefly Glen, she wondered if that now meant there was more room in the mountain. Of course the spider had no rejection over the thought, the more warriors, the more strength to Moonspear. So she sat in silence, giving a small nod to the stranger, as she watched in the back.

Norah had met plenty of leader figures in her short life to recognize one, when it presented itself to her. Unlike other species, wolves rarely downplayed their true importance. Quite the contrary, they carried themselves proud and arrogant, the only difference being that some made a show out of it, while others - like this specimen - knew their true value and did not need cheers and applause from outside.

This man she could respect. Maybe. 

Norah let out a small sigh, raised to her feet and approached the man and stopped on the verge of what distance was considered polite. She kept her pose a tad bit tuned down than that of the leader's, but there was no fear in her eyes, when they traced the facial features of him, collecting as much information as she could in that brief moment before she had to speak. "Greetings, king of the mountains," she told him levelly and dipped her muzzle out of courtesy, and for the rest of the conversation kept her gaze averted.

"May I know, who do I have the honor to talk with?" she asked and with the corner of her eyes she registered a shadow join the man.

From the shadows behind, he heard the footfalls of Desdemona as she joined him; he offered her a sideways glance in lieu of a proper greeting before his gaze returned to the wayfarer before him. She exuded a confidence not too dissimilar to his own, but at least she relented respectfully. Deference was always a boon, certainly one of many ways to appease him gently. Such was the natural law of their kind, though there would always be those who tested it.

It also narrowed down the list of reasons why she may have been there, though it was with some skepticism lurking in the forefront of his thoughts that stopped him from receiving her too warmly. With all that lurked beyond their borders and his daughter missing, Dirge could not help but embody some of the iciness that would have been reserved for Hydra. Her attitude towards the borders had rubbed off onto him, somewhere along the way, but the words off his lips did not follow through with the intensity of his gaze.

“A king though I may be, it would be impolite of me to lead an introduction ahead of a lady such as yourself,” he offered gently instead. “I suspect you’ve come with a request, so if you’d be so kind as to begin we’ll see where it takes us.” He was a knave long before a king, ever seeking information to satisfy his own wonders. There was duality to be had as well—he felt it wise to be guarded with strangers beckoning at his front door.

skippable!

 
A nod back, and continuance of a guarding shadow.

Eyes glued onto the visitor. They were polite- something to be enjoyed from Desdemona. She met quite a few wolves at the borders, and only very few proved to be aggressive, or fake in nature. As a lowly wolf, a simple guard, she would expect others to mistreat her well- but it also gave quite a look at how 'future packmates' or 'allies' would be for Moonspear. Most however, were thankfully polite, the only one not shown of this behavior was Valour. His however, was particular in the way he did not stick to his rude nature, and flipped like a coin when the Queen of the mountain appeared.

Being more wary, she hoped that this wolf would not be the same.

Norah did not expect to be welcomed with open hands - nuclear family and few distant relations always were preferred instead of strangers - but still, despite the politeness in the man's voice, she thought she sensed a warning. Subtle, almost invisible to those, who were not listening for it keenly, but it was there. Which meant that just because the first round of greetings had been finished, did not mean that she would not get skinned alive during the second.

She had to play it carefully and give her best. "You are kind, sir," she remarked and gave a small smile. "My name is Norah, I have been a lone wolf for the better part of the year and I seek a home for winter and if you like me enough,  forever is in the prospects too," she explained, looking the king briefly in the eyes, then letting her gaze shift to the quiet observer next to him.

He made an appraising note in his throat—this was going exactly how he thought it would. Far from a messenger bring some word of one thing or another, only a prospect that wanted to join their ranks for the lengthy winter season ahead. With the division of wolves between the mountain and the glen, he didn’t entirely reject the idea of them taking in another. They had added to their ranks as much as they had taken away, and bolstering those numbers would only help them in the long run.

“Well then Norah,” he went on, “tell me what you can do to aid us and perhaps you’ll find your permanency here. Though I admit there’s plenty I can learn just from what you’ve offered me.” If she had been on her own most of the year, she was evidently very capable of fending for herself as a hunter and as a scout at the bare minimum. Both required a certain aptitude and proficiency; they required precision above all else. She was not a fool, this he could tell.

"Depends on, what is that you need," Norah replied, smiling and looking the leader up and down again, as if the rough sketch she had painted in her mind, needed finishing. Well, in a way it did. If this was the man she was going to call her king and ruler for quite some time, his profile had to be neat and precise. 

"You are too kind, sir," she shook her head lightly, when he indirectly praised her for her ability to survive. The term "lone wolf" had a broad range of definitions. Yes, Norah had not been affiliated with any packs, since she had left the one she had been born and raised in. But at the same time she had had temporary connections and arrangements with either other loners or some vagabond groups with a loose hierarchy. 

"I am a decent hunter and can sustain myself very well," that was not a lie, otherwise she would not be standing here. "And I take great interest in studying people - you may call me an advisor and a diplomat," she said. "I prefer honest discussions over brutal fighting, but I am not above violence, if it's, what required of me," she finished.

They would always have a need of hunters, that he could not deny, nor did he see the harm in having a surplus of them. The more of them there were, the better their odds of taking down the larger sets of prey with ease. But it was her remark of being a diplomat that intrigued him the most; Moonspear had always had a throng of warriors and while he did his best to avoid abject, rampant violence, even he had learned over time to better defend himself.

Of course that said, they had their moments of diplomacy too with mixed results. It was ever an ongoing process one direction or another, and like all wolves, they were forced to adapt to survive or die. So far, they had managed the survival part with relative ease even in the wake of loss however temporary or permanent.

“There is always purpose in being sharp-tongued and of sharp tooth,” he commented, “and as it were we often require both here. Being able to hunt well is only a bonus.” A thin wisp of a smile broke his features, akin to a smirk. “Tell me then, how would you handle a constant, overbearing threat to your pack and neighbors? There are a number of those out there who seek to harm others, some even as close as our ranging allows. As it stands the word on the wind is that one may be open to diplomacy and the other cares not for it and seeks to tear the unaware asunder.” The Saints, Ursus; for all he knew they could have both wildly swung between the two points from all he heard.

But of course, their information was largely hearsay, pieced together off the lips of their neighbors and wayfarers alike. Ursus had once been the larger threat in his eyes, but they were distant now, perhaps too far away to fall entirely under his purview of care. But the Saints? Dirge hadn’t quite pinpointed where they were, at least yet, and the murmurings of their doings were by far more common to fall to his ears.

Norah took a moment to think through, what Dirge proposed and what she considered as a test for herself. She already liked the man and knew that it would not be boring for her here, even if the queen turned out to be hoplessly dull. "In a grand scheme of things it is easier to view everyone as an enemy. With the difference being that some enemies are useful and some should be disposed of as fast as possible," she explained. 

"Diplomacy is not about making peace with everyone. It is a game, where you and your pack are at the centre and you have to know, how to play those, who surround you well, to get the best results for yourself," she went on, perhaps, revealing more about her true character than she had intended to. But weren't they all selfish? She wished for full belly and protection during winter, the pack on the other hand wanted to use her. 

"IF there are packs that are a nuisance to you - seek out allies among those, who this pack too has annoyed. Send in spies and partisans to destroy the pack from within," she offered. "It's always easier to push a bully in a submission, when you play from a position of strength," she said. "However, I would rather not waste energy and health to solve small, local conflicts with violence. And it is advisable not to cause unneccessary trouble, because you never know, which of your enemies might be your next ally."

“Wise answer,” he said as she finished, “there may be a place for you here after all.” She seemed flexible enough in wits and willing enough to draw assessments to reach her own conclusions swiftly and without prejudice; it appeased him that she saw value in knowing that things could change by chance or guiding hand, that there was almost something roguish beneath a guise of intellect that they capable of holding.

He reached a decision deftly, not wasting any further time.

“This is Moonspear, and my name is Dirge. The wandering shade behind me is one of our guardians, Desdemona,” he went on, gesturing to the silent purveyor behind him. “Let us show you in and get you acquainted.” With that out of the way, he turned to welcome Norah along, and waited for her to draw closer before moving along into the depths of the timber. Briefly, his gaze met that of Desdemona’s, leaving the decision for her to dismiss herself or join them.

"Dirge - my pleasure," Norah dipped her muzzle politely, acknowledging her new alpha. She shot an inquisitive look in Desdemona's direction, as she walked past her to keep up with the mountain king. Seemed quite young, but determined. For the perfunctory first assessment that was enough for her. 

She followed the man and listened to everything he told her carefully, containing her excitement for the new playing field she had got, with the professionalism of a natural rogue she was.

Last one from me. Thanks!

As the other was officially accepted into the Moonspear rank, Desdemona gave a nod to both of them. She wasn't told to show the other around, rather the Alpha decided himself to do so. As such, the guard only disappeared back into the patrolling shadows.