Gyrfalcon's Keep Dangerous Temptation

(16 million years later, I had chutz enough to remake this thread, forgive me. xD) @Ragnar



Adair, after many encounters with wolves who had passed into this land, he had known many who had no come back out to respeak of their tales and adventures. From the ones who did, it was a warning. A warning filled with regret for comming, and gratitude for leaving. All because of a "he who shall not be named", but oh, did they name him. "The Wolf of the Ancient Ones." "The Jaws of No Return". "Man of No Mercy". "Death Bringer". "Hackle Harvester". He could go on for years. But Adair didn't, because he had to cherish the rest of the years he had left. It would seem like he didn't in the eyes of the wolves he had passed, because he was going to go meet the ruler of the lands who they had escaped from.
But he had come the night before, prepared.

Adair remembered the fellow lupines who spoke of the leader being particularly angry due to their tresspassing on his land. He got it lodged in his massive head that he wouldn't do that. Hence him not tipping on the borders. Also, he had brought a gift. Its nothing special, or magical...something easy,..well for him..to get. Something that could save their pack trouble, just a bit.

Trotting alongside the border of Glyrfalcon's Keep, but still remaining outside of it, the almost 4 ft high hessian took a sniff of the surrounding, all while keeping an invisible marker on the border, ever so careful to no pass it.
No one had been here. Other than marking the borders, no wolf had stayed here long enough to notice his present for the leader of the pack. Good.
A small smile slipped to his maw, and Adair felt a bit more at ease, causing him to slip back into his calm and collected mentality. He would hope that it kept him in a decent spot.
This is a learning experience. Hopefully I can walk away from it, in one piece.
Regally lifting his dark crown, Adair sent a howl for the leader of the Stavanger Bay pack.

The days were becoming cooler, proving Thistle's prediction that the Harvest months were upon the Teekon Wilds. Stavanger Bay had begun preparing for the winter that was to come; Ragnar did not put much stock in the Naturalist trade but he would turn to his Priestess Wife to see what she thought. Would Fimbulvetr be upon them — the harshest of winters — or was it just like any other winter? What defined winter for these Southern wolves? Each winter at Odinn Cove was harsh, unforgiving, merciless ...much like the Nordic wolves, born of her blood. Ragnar did not fear winter, having endured many harsh ones in his three years of life. His coat had already began to thicken, the tendrils of platinum silver becoming coarser in anticipation. They were wolves and Ragnar was faithful. They would adapt and survive. Their weekly hunt had not been a success, their prey slipping from the grasp of Death's jaws like smoke. They felt the loss of the elk, and it had been like a slap in their faces, but he was determined to try harder the next hunt. It was not the first time prey had eluded them and it would, surely, not be the last. As long as they avoided taking from the caches and made sure that they were filled then Ragnar did not worry so much. Thistle, he knew, was nervous about Verrine and Julooke's children, and the to-be children of Nerian and Ragnar himself, but Ragnar knew that he would die before he let a single child die of hunger or freeze to death. Be it Julooke's or his own. The fact that his children with Thistle were old enough to begin contributing to the pack was a bonus. A great bonus.

He had been wondering around Ravensblood Forest, enjoying the presence of the ravens, those of Odinn. Odinn's life force was felt within the ground, the trees, his voice resounding upon the wind within Stavanger Bay but his ravens housed in the Forest of Ravensblood and sometimes, Ragnar enjoyed the presence of the avian(s). He had been on the borders, watching Huginn and Muninn circle one another, their cries a soothing sound to the scarred Scandinavian when a howl went up for him. It sounded closer, within the Gryfalcon Keep territory — a little too far from Stavanger Bay. Brow furrowed with caution and for a second Ragnar considered not seeking out whatever beast had called for him, the sound of the song unfamiliar to him. Curiosity won out, as it always did and Ragnar found himself heading in the direction of the call, pace slowing when he came upon the ebon colored male, eyes of caribbean ice narrowing as he took him in. Who are you? Ragnar demanded in his soft, accented voice. Why have you summoned me? He smelled of the pack that Silvertip had became — the name escaped him currently because he had no real reason to remember it.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN

Who are you? Why have you summoned me?

Adair lowered his hazel highlighted head and tail into a respectful bow.

"Greetings, I am Adair. Adair Erïksőn. I had heard word of you and your packs existence, so I wished to give a pleasant visit to the leader of Stavanger Bay. Along with a friendly little gift for you and your pack. Nothing spectacular, just a little gift. It is yours. "

Adair padded gracefully over to a thick and flourishing oak that been close to that location and after a quick breath, Adair leapt a few feet up its bark, gripping the thick trunk with his black nails, and made his way up, until he disappeared into the bushes. Within a heartbeat later, a larged package dropped infront of the paws of the pale wolf. Visually, the package was wrapped in broad jungle leaves he had picked specificly for their incredible strength and wrapping ability. About 3 more packages fell, and then Adair managed to make his way down the trunk, rather gracefully, for a 4 year old. Leaping the rest of the way down the trunk, he stood infront of the wolf who led the coast pack.

"I prepared the meat week ago, but wrapped them freshly. ", Adair began, giving a minor little perk of word of the cured meat he had made for them as a gift. Adair remembered him ripping massive chunks of the buck off, and saturating it in blackberry and strawberry juice, and having it sit in an airy sunlight perforated rock den, and dry out. He also recalled wrapping up his delectable little specialties, in the wide and fresh leaves that gave them a light coating of oil to prevent rot, keeping the dried meat fresh and tangy.

Adair stepped back, with a humble smile and voice. Taking another look at the 4 massive packages before the wolf, he chuckled.

"Those are quite a treat. I do sincerely hope you enjoy them."

The respectful bow was noted by the scarred Scandinavian but the Northerner made no moves to return it. Instead he stared, fixing the ebon male in a glacier cold stare, waiting for his questions to be answered. Scarred ear flicked as the male began to speak, introducing himself and then prattling on that he had heard about Stavanger Bay. He spoke of a friendly visit, and further about gifts. Gifts. Ragnar did not bother to hide his perplexity, instead sniffing at the air. The man himself smelled like a stranger but the scent of the pack he carried rung a bell of familiarity in the Jarl's nose. It wasn't until the other man clawed his way up the three — a feat that likely would have perplexed Ragnar if he had not watched Floki do it more times than he could count in their youths — that the familiarity of the scent slammed into Ragnar. Viciously. A low growl ripped from the Viking's chest as he stepped back when the objects began to drop from the tree. He recognized the pack scent because it had been the scent of Julooke's attacker. It had lingered there, on the scene of the crime, when Ragnar had went to investigate it.

Ragnar's distrust rose like bile in his throat and as the man descended from the tree, the Jarl's eyes were sharp as they touched upon him, the gifts lain ignored on the ground, the words about the meats they supposedly contained went in one of Ragnar's ears and straight out the other. I do not want your gifts, The Jarl spoke in a low, threatening murmur. I want to know why you are really here. One of your pack mates attacked mine a while ago and until he is dealt with I have nothing to say to you or the pack whose scent you carry, And he sure as hell wasn't accepting gifts. The only thing that spared Adair was the fact that he did not have white eyes. Do you know where I can find a white eyed man? Was all Ragnar further asked. He would find the man responsible for nearly ending Julooke's life and Ragnar would make sure that that he paid in full for what he had done to her.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN

Adair heard silence snatched away from the environment, as a growl surfaced to his ears as he had been up the tree. Such a shame. So uneasy, this male was.

After looking back at the pale hessian, Adair noticed he did not touch the gifts. His next words following, proved that.
" I do not want your, gifts"
Called it.
Distrusted, Adair knew he was. But looking at the stare of the one before his had shown that it was not of a formal reason. Something more was going on.

I want to know why you are really here. One of your pack mates attacked mine a while ago and until he is dealt with I have nothing to say to you or the pack whose scent you carry,"

Adair shook his head, disappointedly. Yet his patience stayed, and along with it, the calm that he needed to deal with this matter. A matter he didnt even know about.
He caught himself before he chuckled at a thought that flew through him, like lightning, wondering how the hell was he supposed to know about this incident when he had just recently joined. But, he remained focused on the white fellow before him.

"I am here on my own incentives, friend. I, believe me if you wish, know nothing of any members whatsoever in this pack I reside in. I have literally just joined, officially, yesterday. I have met no one of the pack. "
Adair continued in his humble, deep tones.
"Along with this encounter you speak of, I know nothing of it, either. This may have happened a while before I joined this pack. And I can understand why you look upon me as an enemy, through that experience. I do not hold it against you. Yet, I will not wven reside in this pack very long. I am helping another with the founding of a pack. Far out, into the regions of mountains, and valleys, I will soon be there. So this pack is not one that binds me. "

Adair answered both statements in a respectful manner, yet his mind wandered, as he awaited the pale leader's verdict.

You are not my friend, Ragnar spoke simply, coldly when the male known as Adair called him my friend. What wolf joins a pack and doesn't know any of it's members? To Ragnar it sounded like he was one of those wolves that joined a pack, used up their resources while it suited them and then left. He'd had quite a few of those in Stavanger Bay and every time it crawled under his skin. It was an itch he could not scratch and he found the more it happened the more he was beginning to hate wolves like that. He almost hated them as much as he hated trespassers. Almost, but not quite. Packs were not there for convenience or charity. At least, Stavanger Bay wasn't. They were a family and it disgusted him that this male, obviously, had no intentions of staying with the Spine pack as he stated when he spoke in the next breath about helping another. So, he had just joined the Spine two days ago but during that time decided he was going to abandon them by helping another?

A smirk graced the scarred Scandinavian's lips but it was far from being one of mirth. It was a dangerous thing — his smirk. It hid his disgust well not that Ragnar did not intend to be straight forward with him. It was rare that the Jarl ever held anything back. He was cruel, merciless, heartless even but at least Ragnar wasn't two faced.

Then why did you join them? Why are you carrying around their scent? Using their resources when you don't even intend to stay. Two days you said since you joined and already you have betrayed them. What is the point of being so two faced? Whatever Adair's plans had been Ragnar hoped that he was ruining them. The Viking was not a friendly individual and the words that spewed from the other man's lips did nothing to improve his image in Ragnar's eyes. Keep your gifts svikari. Take it to the pack you have betrayed. Perhaps they will accept it instead of tearing out your entrails. Ragnar's smirk deepened as his nostrils flared with the idea. It was what Ragnar would have done. He was going back to his hardened roots — how he had been in Odinn's Cove. The Wilds had made him softer but his heart was turning to ice once more, the savagery taking over.

If you have nothing useful to offer me I suggest you leave me. It was already obvious that Adair did not have anything to offer him in the terms of the male that Ragnar hunted and thus Ragnar did not feel the need to be conversational.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN

Adair simply gazed at the hessian before him, curious as to why he was so quick to hurt than to understood. To harm, than to help. The 4 year old was not impatient. Anything this male could, and probably would see in his eyes of the old brute, Adair didnt hold him against it.

"The kind of wolf who was unfamiliar with the others. One who had no other choice but to be alone. One who occasionally likes solitude."

Adair tilted his head, looking at the cold lupine before him.

"And I did not use their rescourses for that gift. Or anything. Everything I make, everything I do, is on free soil. Not pack lands. So your assumption is wrong. As well as the one of me being two faced. You would be quite surprised, how loyalty is placed in my own heart, friend."

Adair stood, turning, and gestured to the lined up bundles of meat left untouched on the ground, placing a paw on them, and gently rolled them to the white wolfs own pads.

"Your opinion is your own. If you do not want free signs of a potential ally, then that be your own choice. And as for something to offer you...advice, seeing how a peace offering has not worked. I offer you words. And those words, again, you dont have to take with you. Let them sit on the ground, with the meat. But unlike the meat, those words will not rot. Whether you return for them or not, lies in your paws. "

Adair turned his wood hued crown, contemplating making his way to the other side of the woods, and out of the clearing, but before doing such, he murmured to the Viking, whos heart was made of the coldest of ices.

"Do not do unto others, what you would not have done unto your own self. Equality is key to the locks of liberty, freedom, and respect to that of a leader. To give an inch, is to give a chance to prove loyalty."

Ragnar had no regard, no feeling for lives that were not his own, that did not belong to the wolves of Stavanger Bay. The lives of the others meant nothing to him — just flames to snuff. It was how it had always been to him and it was how it would always be. No mercy. No regrets. Only death. Even though death wasn't something that he feared. It was a goal, something that he aimed for. To be enough to end up in Valhalla when his time came. Excuses, Ragnar hissed through bared teeth. He didn't care because it wasn't like Stavanger Bay was the one being effected by this male's treachery. He could try to explain himself until he was gasping for a proper breath but he would never convince Ragnar of anything different. It was treachery to him and lower than low to put up the pretense of being interested in a pack only to abandon them for something better after they had been generous enough to allow Adair into their fold. Into their family. Too many times had this happened to Ragnar and if he knew a way to make wolves either stay or walk away at the borders if they intended to leave he would. It was a waste of time and resources to keep accepting wolves like that into a pack over and over.

I did not claim that you used their resources to make those, Ragnar's lip curled as he gestured to them sharply with his muzzle. Snapping his teeth together in a clear warning when the other male neared to roll the bundles towards Ragnar. It had been a long time since Ragnar had had a decent fight and the Berserker within him was begging and pleading to be left loose. To embrace the high of battle. Ragnar resisted though it was with a lazy effort that he did so. You may twist my words to make yourself look like a martyr but you are betraying them. If it was Stavanger Bay you'd have done it too I would have killed you, At least Ragnar was honest. Brutally honest, sure, but honest all the same. Keep your words, traitor. I have no regard for your life and care not if you have regard for mine. I care for my pack but their lives are all that matter to me. Not some strangers. With those words Ragnar turned and walked off leaving the Spine traitor's bundles and supposed advice behind him with no intention of returning to either, ever.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN

( We're at 9, youre 10. :3 )



Was the snow cloaked alpha mad? Had he forgotten his own words, so soon after he had said them?
Adair knew he was going on 5 years old, yet his hearing was still pristine.
Watching the hessian walk away as if he was too meager to talk to. As if he was not a fellow wolf, but scum. Adair was not angry, just disappointed.

"You have no respect. You are not a wolf those who howl, should sing praise to. How do you run apack? How do you keep honor? You can not even forbid yourself to not make aassumptions on a wolf who came bearing gifts. How do you lead them, your followers? Why do you rely on hostility, to make ends meet? Do you not realize this creates frayed ends?", Adair called out to him, only emmiting his voice up a decibel.

"I called you friend, not because I consider you a friend. You are no where near such a title. You are a leader. Stop acting like an infant, and take your leadership with the courage and humility that a true Alpha does. Maturity is the most major factor of such an act. "

Adair sat, knowing he was in the process of such a dangerous temptation, but he wanted the leader to feel his words, and whether they be met with anger, bloodshed, or both, the dark hessian would have the pale wolf before him hear his words.

"And yes, you did say I used their supplies."

I already had him walk away because realistically he wouldn't have stayed any longer but I'll try to work it out.

The ebony elder kept speaking even as Ragnar turned his back and walked away. Ragnar was not a child and Adair was not Eitri. Ragnar didn't need to be patronized for his thoughts. It was how he had felt and how he would always feel and, frankly, he didn't recall asking for the opinion of the other man. It was not illogical for Ragnar to distrust a man whom he did not know, and entirely reasonable to spurn the gifts of a wolf who regardless was not only a traitor in Ragnar's eyes but also a part of the Spine pack. Especially given the fact that it was a Spine wolf that attacked and nearly killed Julooke. Julooke...who was like a daughter to him despite that he suspected that they were about the same age. I do not respect wolves who have no honor. Do not be a bigot because my thoughts are not the same as yours, because I spurn you and your gifts. I do not know you and your life means nothing to me. I expect nothing less from you or any stranger, Ragnar's steps paused so that he could speak to the elder over his shoulder, a trademark smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. Adair was only shoving his paw in his mouth, spewing off about how Ragnar assumed and yet he was doing the same thing. Assuming. That he had had any idea why Stavanger Bay followed Ragnar, or how Ragnar led his pack. You talk to me of assumptions like you are high and mighty and yet, you do the same thing. Just because I have no regard for your life and no respect for strangers that I do not know, that have not earned it, and no need for allies does not mean anything. I respect and love my subordinates. They are my family; but I owe you no explanation. You are more than free to try to tell my pack why they should not follow me. See how far you get. Ragnar was a different wolf with his pack, but he didn't care what Adair did with the information.

Alliances are false, just as allies are. It is a false peace filled with lies. If a war were to break out tomorrow between two opposing packs and they called upon the packs in which they had an alliance with those wolves would not come. A smart leader looks out for his pack and sacrificing their lives pointlessly in a false and fickle friendship does not make a good leader. Odinn's Cove only had one ally but that was because they were a sister pack — created only because the Cove had swelled to too big of a size. Freyja's Moors was a branch off of the Cove, an extension rather than an actual pack. The Jarl played by a whole different set of rules. He wasn't like other men, or the posh Southern wolves. He was an epitome of his upbringing, his culture and the environment in which he had been born into and endured. The words of the old man were an annoyance at most. An old man who thought that his way was the right way and that Ragnar was wrong and unworthy of leading because he was not the same. Because he did not make friends with outside packs — though there were the odd exceptions, his mind going to Blacktail Deer Plateau those that friendship was born purely out of coincidence. Ragnar had traveled a bit with Blue Willow and had earned Peregrine's respect by taking in his daughter when she had washed up upon the shores of Ravensblood Forest. It wasn't like Ragnar had done that for the sake of earning the DiSarinno's respect. It had just happened.

This meeting has nothing to do with how I lead my wolves. You are not my subordinate and you know nothing about me or my pack. I have been leading for a very long time, before I came here, before I had even reached my sexual maturity, Leading the Berserkers wasn't quite the same as leading a pack but it was similar in many ways and Ragnar had been the youngest to be chosen as the Head Berserker, beating out his older brother by a milestone. If I was a terrible leader as you assume that I am they would have risen against me long ago — they would have killed me, Ragnar's smirk widened keeping a sharp, fierce and cold eye upon the ignorant fool who dared to tell him that he was leading wrong. Do yourself a favor, old man. Realize that you do not know everything and stop pretending to know about wolves when you understand nothing. You do not know me or Stavanger Bay no more than you know anything about the Spine wolves whom you are betraying. I would keep my jaw shut if I were you, before you get yourself killed. With those words Ragnar departed for good, eager to be back in Stavanger Bay, putting the Spine fool out of his mind with the intent to, instead, to check on Julooke and see if she could tell him anything more about her attacker.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN