Tuktu Weir Wearing a warning sign

Célnes was diligant in patrolling, she felt the scent all around must be kept firm, especially by the lake. It was so large and cut through the forest, that she felt some stray wolf would wander around and cross within- a huge reason they marked the large body of water. Some may laugh as they claim so, but it only felt natural as it loomed too closely to their homeland.

Two bodies of water hung closely to the forest, the weir and the creek, splitting inside of their homeland. Even the elk would visit the water sources, and thankfully so she knew Kingslend would not have to worry about a drought. It was even laughable to think of one when months ago the rain never seemed to end...

Escaping from a fire only to enter a flash flood, as Célnes vaguely remembered Whitebark Stream's demise, and she picked up the pieces that were. Sadly though not all were, as the Alpha's disappeared outside, and Taikon's trail simply dispersed. At least she gained a guard, and a few children along the way. The thought brought but a smile to her face, as the King patrolled.

As his father had taught him, Lovecraft traveled always along the water. His path sometimes strayed for the sake of exploration, but never far, and he maintained a keen awareness of where the water was located so that he could return to it when he needed to. The stream he had been following for the last several days emptied into a lake. The change of scenery surprised him but it was welcome in its eerie beauty: a light, cold mist hovered above the water's surface, framed by  dense evergreen foliage. Lovecraft abandoned the stream and started around the perimeter of the lake, becomming aware of the scent of elk that lingered everywhere.  

Another scent came to his attention, too; a wolf nearby. The pale canine lowered his posture, ears erect and his wide eyes fixed ahead of him. There was movement, and then he beheld the she wolf whose path would soon cross his. She was a striking creature, with fur the color of earth and tree bark, and eyes a warm shade that he could only correlate with the sunrise. Lovecraft lifted his head and swung his tail steadily, attempting to make himself more visible to her, and emitted a soft chuff.

welcome to wolf! just a simple note some packs 'unofficially' claim some areas though technically by site only can claim one.
kingslend unofficially claims silvercreek and the weir; adding for any confusion that may be in this post!

"You are awfully close to a packs land." The intruder greeted her lightly and didn't seem to expel any hostility, but she still had a narrowed eye look with a smile to her face. She didn't hide her eyes looming over to the white man, looking to his eyes, to his nose, his and to tail. He was all white.

She truly wondered if this was some sort of sign that High Elk was trying to give her, but Célnes was not one to know prophecies and seer-topics like her cousin Calhoun. She was tired of such tricks and riddles, and usually strung her own version of the sign to benefit her so, but of course, not too many believed as so. Her lies can only take so far, and does not seem to crack the holy wall that the followers have.

Everytime a loner was met, they were white. 

"I am Célnes Déorwine, King to Kingslend that claims this land." All said, with but a warm smile and the posture of a noble man.

thank you for the info! :D

The she-wolf's warning did not come as a surprise to him. His plan was to pivot directions again should he come to the borders of the pack whose scent lingered in the foliage, but sIhe had found him before that point. Although she introduced herself as King and held an air of elegance and superiority, Lovecraft couldn't know her rank within this pack, but she nevertheless held the upper hand simply because she was a pack wolf, and he a loner; the pallid wolf acknowledged the difference by lowering his ears and his head. 

My name is Lovecraft, he spoke in a voice deep yet soft. I apologize if I came too close, I... I meant no disrespect. the ghost of a smile materialized on his lips.

"That is alright." She wasn't the type to be too aggressive on the matter, most tended to leave after some conversation, and usually stayed away. There wasn't too many times did Célnes find an intruder re-visit so, especially if they managed to meet anyone else besides the Kings. It was fortunate Calhoun or Odessa was not joining her on this patrol or walk, or else they would not enjoy the light-colored wolf being so close.

"You have an interesting name, where do you come from?" The name sounded something like a heavenly day of romance, but he was firstly a male and a loner, surely a past to share. The King was growing interested in cultures outside her own, for Kingslend was a religious devoted group, but none seemed to share the same devotion to another Deity. The land seemed untouched by holiness itself, and she wondered much about them.

A ridge of shaggy fur stiffened along his shoulders, coaxed by fear. The woman held power over him, and should she regard him as a threat to her pack, he was in trouble. Lovecraft knew this in his very bones. But the moment of dread passed, alleviated when she expressed that she was not offended by his presence. He would have to keep his guard up, but as of now the level of threat was low.

She seemed more curious about him than anything else. Yet her question had the quiet wolf stymeid. To talk about his name with honesty was to divulge a darkness that he never wanted to speak of. Fortunately, she asked specifically about where he had come from, and not about his name, giving him a way to actively ignore the thoughts of the past threatening to surface themselves. The woman spoke in a way that made him believe she might think his name connected to where he came from; he was eager to change the course of her inquiry.

East of here, he murmured finally, just as the pause had begun to become uncomfortable. Beyond the great mountain range, where it's dryer, and colder. In his mind's eye he saw the mountains, jutting from the earth like a the jagged spine of a fossil. It was a year ago that he had begun his lone wandering, and during the summer he had found the mountain pass that had ferried him west, towards the sea.

Can you tell me about your pack? Kingslend, yea? he asked in his soft, mild manner.

She watched the man tense up, but offered no words of comfort and only a devil-like smile to her face as she calmly watched him so. The factor that he was more stiffened and guarded then he was hostile gave no worry to fret, and a more sense of tranquility and calmness to her thoughts. Not to mention she always knew that her guard @Germanicus would appear around the corner in some way if she were to be in trouble, and while at the moment he was not near, he was at the back of Célnes's mind.

She hummed slightly at this location, and was curious. Though most likely she would not visit so, "why did you come here?" Instead the King inquired about his appearance near her own land.

"We are a family pack, mostly of the Déorwine, but alongst others as well, we accept regardless of ties." She dare not to mention the factor of their more racist terms, as he was a man of whites then browns, and would not be accepted. Instead but a smile of assurance he was of no harm, despite being the most unholy to their culture,

"we worship a deity called the High Elk, we care closely to our culture." The less she shared of certain topics, the more well-liked Kingslend could be, and more wells-spread as she so preferred.. To be perfect as her goal.

I wanted to see the ocean, he replied simply but bluntly. His mother had told him about the ocean, vaguely, when he was a child. He remembered her deep velvetty voice speaking of water so vast that one could see nothing beyond it but the sky. just keep going west, he had told himself, when the winter brought hunger and then when the summer grew cruel with the heat, and he had wanted to simply lay down and die. 

No, he had to see the ocean.

He listened intently as she described her pack, ears cupped forward politely. His tail waved at his heels. "regardless of ties?" he repeated, seeking clarification. Ties to whom, he wondered. Perhaps there was some drama going on amongst the packs of the wilds; it was the only thing he could think of. He did, however, like what she had said about Kingslend being a family pack, one which "accepted others," as the pretty she-wolf had put it.

"If you head further north, I believe it may be near there." Though it was but a simple guess and assumption, based on her own travels. Going further East was only endless forest and mountains, and as far as she could tell, the west was the same. All but endless terrian, even toward the south could they only see the endless hinterlands.. There was no sight to where this ocean could be, and Célnes too was curious on the look of the ocean.

"Some carry pasts they do not want to speak of, no? We care little to such as long as you are worthy." Refraining from mentioning what was worthy for the Deorwine wolves.. Surely he was not to their standards, but the King in her own opinion found he was suitable enough for a worthy pack wolf. She could only inwardly sigh at the struggles it was to truly recruit for subjects to the crown, as those who would be accepted were truly limited.

Though all covered with her perfectionist smile.

He canted his head to her advice. He would not have thought to go north, but it was worth a try. though he was naturally wary to listen to anyone's advice other than his mother's, the words she had spoken to him were long ago, and far away.  Lovecraft nodded.

It was strange how her next statement touched him, reminding him of how, moments before, he had labored to keep his past locked up tight and out of her reach. She spoke of the worthiness she sought in those she recruited, and for a moment the snowy wolf was unsure what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, but he hesitated, opening his maw, and closing it again.

Finally, he decided just to ask the question that threatened the tip of his tongue. "Would I be worthy?" He wore a crooked smile. If he was rejected, it would make little difference in his day other than brief disappointment. He would go on as he had before this encounter with this strange and beautiful she-wolf.