Mount Apikuni go among the lost

the chill of winter clung to the mountain like a predator, its icy breath seeping into every crack and crevice of the sheer northwestern slopes. lucifer moved with practiced ease along the treacherous terrain, his dark coat stark against the endless expanse of snow. the air was sharp, each inhalation tinged with the faint tang of pine and the distant whisper of history—a story written in stone and ash.  

this place reeked of death.  

lucifer's lips curled into a faint smirk, though it lacked its usual sharpness. a tragedy fit for legends, he murmured to the wind, his voice a low rumble swallowed by the vast silence.  

the snow crunched beneath his paws as he moved forward again, his steps deliberate yet unhurried. the trail was faint, buried under layers of frost and time, but it was there—a reminder of those who had walked this path before him. he followed it with a predator’s patience, his breath curling in the air like smoke.  

above him, the skeletal branches of the sparse trees swayed under the weight of snow, their groans a mournful song that echoed through the quiet. he stopped again, this time at the edge of a steep drop, and let his gaze fall to the valley below. the scars of the mountain were subtle but visible to the keen eye: jagged lines in the rock, darker patches where the forest had refused to regrow.  

lucifer tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. the solitude of this place suited him, its silence a stark contrast to the chaos that so often surrounded him. yet, beneath the stillness, there was an energy—an ancient tension that set his fur on edge.  

haunting, isn’t it? he said to no one in particular, his voice softer now, as though speaking louder might wake something sleeping beneath the snow.

Instincts of a predator carry him through the snow, his gait light and arid.

Maman brought home a new man. Chaudry sees reason to learn about him, to test if he is a threat to his position or the pack. He trails him now, far enough behind to keep his large figure relatively concealed.

It was a strange sight, the wolf muttering and murmuring to himself. The hulking figure stills for a moment, eyes of his mother's likeness narrowing, analysing, calculating.

Ears catching the final sentence, he steps from the shadows now. Haunting? He repeats without further question. Though he can speak when necessary, Chaudry is not one to share more than a few words with a stranger.

lucifer’s ears flicked back at the sound of approaching steps, but he did not turn immediately. instead, he stood motionless, ashen gold eyes fixed on the jagged horizon, his breath curling in ghostly wisps against the winter air.  

at the single word—haunting—spoken by the newcomer, a smirk ghosted across lucifer’s lips. slowly, he turned his head, his gaze settling on the large wolf who had emerged from the shadows. there was no fear in his stance, only a quiet curiosity mingled with the faintest glint of amusement.  

ah, sì, haunting, he echoed, his voice a low purr that carried easily through the cold. this mountain wears its scars like a crown. a reminder of all it has endured. his tone was smooth, almost conversational, though there was an edge to his words that hinted at something deeper.  

lucifer’s eyes roved over the stranger with a deliberate slowness, taking in the similarities to viskani—the sharp features, the imposing stature, the intensity in his gaze. sei suo figlio, he said, tilting his head slightly, his expression unreadable. you are her son. the resemblance is unmistakable.

his smirk widened as he took a step closer, his movements calculated but unthreatening. tell me, ragazzo, what is your name?

The man recognizes him as his mother's son; it would be hard not to. In appearance he is her carefully crafted palette coating his father's titan shape. It is personality where they differ, his maman charismatic and maternal while Chaudry is stoic and unpredictable — though they both have a rather intimidating presence, it is for different reasons entirely.

There is a sense of clear confidence in the other as he steps towards the giant, but Chaudry's gaze does not falter. Chaudry. Grand Gurrier. He responds to the question with his name and title, though he is unsure if 'Grand Gurrier' means much of anything to this wolf yet.

His tail lifts now, straight and still rather than his mother's over-the-head flag of pure confidence, and yet the message is the same. You come to the mountain, you join maman. He pauses, raising an eyebrow. Why?

It is the season to be suspicious. He knows from the stories of his grandmere; men are stupid. Our women expect children. The viable one's, at least. If a chance to court was what this man wanted he would not find it in Viskani, and the idea that Pala could be his goal was enough for Chaudry to nearly crack a smile of pure amusement. You do not want them. You come to work, yes?

lucifer’s raised an eyebrow as the larger wolf introduced himself, voice steady and deliberate. chaudry. grand gurrier. the title rolled off his tongue with an air of amused approval. ah, un guerriero grande, he said smoothly, his italian accent lacing the words with a certain melodic charm. a name that carries weight, like the wolf who bears it.

lucifer’s smirk grew sharper, the playful glint in his eyes now laced with something darker, more deliberate. he let the silence stretch for a beat, golden gaze flickering briefly toward the distant heart of the vale before returning to chaudry with a calculated intensity.  

the mountain, sì, it has its dangers, he began, voice smooth as the snow beneath his paws. but its beauty... ah, le donne qui, they are something else entirely. he spoke slowly, his words dripping with a velvety ease that was almost too casual to be sincere. your maman, of course, commands attention like the sun commands the sky. but the others? they are... occhi accattivanti, to say the least.

he paused, letting the weight of his statement hang in the frigid air. there was no overt challenge in his tone, only the subtle coil of a snake testing the tension in its prey. i will say the one with scars has una bellezza inespressa. perhaps you can introduce me.

the statement was pointed, though spoken with a disarming smile. lucifer’s posture remained relaxed, his tail swaying lazily behind him, yet his eyes never left chaudry’s face, watching for even the smallest flicker of a reaction.

but then his expression shifted, the teasing edge giving way to something more earnest, if still tinged with his characteristic charm. but you’re right, grand guerrier. i’m not here to cower. i'm here to offer what i can—a strong back, sharp teeth, and a mind that can match any storm. his gaze met chaudry’s, unwavering and calm.

many apologies for this massive a-hole XD

The accented, occasionally unfamiliar words hit a particular itch in Chaudry's ears. He can respect his attitude, particularly if he is willing to work.

As he speaks of one with scars, his first thought is of his brother - but that would make little sense with Chesley hiding away so often, and he was not so sure that this wolf swung that way. He cocks a brow upon the realisation of who he is more likely referring to. Pala? Poor man, if his words are more than teasing. You can have her after she has my children, if she takes a liking. Chaudry saw her as little more than the mother of his children; she could do as she pleased. But damn, this guy had to have horrible taste.

If you are here to offer, what is it you plan to do? He asks now, the question earnest. You are.. how do the say here, He pauses, clicking his tongue. Bottom of the pecking order, yes? It was the nature of things. He was the new man.

Eyes grazing over the other, he looks to gain some idea of what he may be good for. You must be eager for a proper ranking. A hunter? Scout? Healer? Another guard? There were plenty of options.

I think it's lovely LMAO don't worry, they're assholes together

lucifer tilted his head, his smirk faltering into something more neutral—almost innocent, though the flicker of disappointment in his eyes betrayed him. so, the stoic giant wasn’t so easily provoked. peccato, he thought, hiding his frustration beneath a shrug of his shoulders.  

ah, ma no, he replied, feigning surprise at the notion that his earlier comments were anything more than idle musings. i am not here to complicate... familial arrangements. it seems your mountain already thrives with strong bloodlines. his tone was smooth, measured, but the sparkle of mischief in his golden gaze hadn’t entirely disappeared.  

at the question of his usefulness, lucifer straightened slightly, allowing a more earnest expression to settle on his face. i am here to serve, he said, his voice softening as if to drive the point home. my skills as a hunter are proven. i can track prey across impossible terrain, find their dens even in the dead of winter. i bring meat to the caches, ensure the pups and mothers are well-fed.

he paused, lowering his gaze momentarily as if humbled by the thought. that is all i seek. a pack where i can put my skills to use, repay the hospitality of a roof over my head— his gaze lifted again, sharp as a blade, —and perhaps earn my way out of this... bottom of the pecking order you speak of. 

his tail flicked lazily behind him, his demeanor shifting back to something lighter, though there was still a subtle challenge in his smile. but tell me, grand guerrier, does a wolf rise here only through bloodshed? or is there another way to prove oneself?

A hunter. How lucky — a proper hunter was something they had been lacking for some time. If this man was as talented as he claimed, then it would be easy enough to rise from his low position.

He snickers at the mention of bloodshed, the smallest break of positivity into his neutral demeanor. No bloodshed, mon ami. He says, Chasseur — the role of a hunter, is taken through a task. Only to prove your skill.

The titan clicks his tongue as he recalls the process. It had been quite a while since he was ranked, and since he had been born in the pack and mentored it was not so difficult. Usually the Grande of the role would give it to you or a Conseillere when there is none, but since there is neither you should speak to my maman. She would be pleased to provide a task, to her the concept had always been rather entertaining.

lucifer’s ears perked at chaudry’s explanation, a flicker of interest crossing his features. a task? how quaint. the prospect of proving himself, though mildly tedious, did carry a certain appeal—especially if it granted him a chance to interact further with this maman chaudry spoke of with such authority.  

ah, un compito, he murmured, letting the Italian roll off his tongue before switching smoothly back to the common tongue. a task is fair. i would expect no less from a pack with such... strong traditions. he inclined his head slightly, though the smile tugging at his lips suggested amusement more than reverence.  

the mention of speaking with viskani lit a spark of intrigue in his ashen gold eyes. then it seems i must make my case to the matriarche herself. perhaps she will find me worthy of her entertainment. his tone was light, playful, but there was a subtle weight to his words—a quiet confidence that he would rise to whatever challenge was presented.

He offers a nod, head turning back towards the vale now. Should we go then? He poses his invitation, lifting a paw as he prepares to take his leave. Unless you came out here for something.

He thought the interest in his mother to be rather strange, but chose to dismiss it. A subordinate was bound to carry some interest in their leader; it was a matter of respect, survival.

What mattered now was that this man could hunt, and he claimed that he could hunt well. Small prey was what they had relied on for their caches, for there was nobody who had the time to take out larger hunting parties alongside their other jobs. But pregnant mother's would require more food, and if the pack could not provide then it would risk the health of their children.

lucifer chuckled, a low, rich sound that curled in the cold air like smoke. ah, niente di importante, he dismissed with a slow shake of his head. nothing that cannot wait.

he stepped forward with ease, falling in stride with chaudry, though his movements remained unhurried, deliberate. besides, i would hate to keep your maman waiting, he added, the barest trace of mischief threading his tone.  

his golden gaze drifted over the vale ahead, already assessing, calculating. if they were relying on small prey, then their caches were likely sufficient for now—but not for long. he could see where his skills would be needed. bene, this meant his place here would be secured sooner rather than later.  

tell me, he mused, his voice laced with casual curiosity, does the matriarche have high expectations? or does she simply enjoy the thrill of watching a man prove himself? his smirk returned, subtle, unreadable. not that it matters—i always deliver.

apologies on the delay! life got in the way for a cool min

It's no worry, I'm happy to see you back! Missed ya!

Chaudry nods, beginning to move back towards the vale.

The question the man asks now is strange. Chaudry raises a brow. I am her son - that is not the question to ask me. I fill her expectations with ease, and my brother's are loved despite their failures. He stares back at Lucifer for a moment, his eyes narrowing. Let me ask a question of my own now, mon ami.

He let's a silence settle, tension lifting over them like a discomforting hot air breaking through the winter breeze. What do you want with my maman? There was little Chaudry cared for, but his family was the exception. If this was more than simple curiosity in leadership and instead was growing into something more, Chaudry would not tolerate it. This man had not proved himself.

But of course, it was inappropriate to jump to conclusions. His temper would remain perfectly intact until he was sure.

lucifer met chaudry’s narrowed gaze with a slow, knowing smile, unfazed by the weight behind the question.  

ah, un figlio devoto, he murmured, a touch amused. a devoted son.

he let the silence linger between them, allowing the tension to settle like frost on their fur before offering a response.  

what do i want? he echoed, his tone smooth, deliberate. a place. a purpose. a pause, his smirk deepening. and, mon ami, i assure you—your maman is merely an interesting woman, a powerful leader. molto impressionante. he inclined his head as if in genuine respect. but my loyalty is to the pack, not to her alone.

his eyes gleamed, sharp with something unreadable. surely you do not believe i am foolish enough to overstep where i ave yet to earn my place? a small chuckle followed, dark and edged with amusement. that would be quite the mistake, no?

He grunts, momentarily looking as though he is pondering the man's words. You would not be the first to overstep, and you would not be the last. There had been plenty back home - though Chaudry had nothing to do with preventing it. His grandmother was particularly cruel to men who approached her daughters; now it felt right to keep an eye on things in her place.

Maybe it was just the way this one spoke, the look on his face. Do you aim to sound like that? He asks a question, one he should likely elaborate on, but he does not give the other time to answer; given that it may not matter too much.

Staring for a moment longer, he soon picks up his pace. He has made his point; it is time to return. There are borders to be guarded.

Chaudry out! Feel free to tag Viskani somewhere when you want your ranking task <3

lucifer merely hummed, the sound deep and thoughtful, as he watched chaudry’s back begin to retreat.  

attento, grand guerrier, he murmured just loud enough to carry, his tone almost playful. careful, grand warrior.

he did not follow. not yet. instead, he lingered in the cold hush of the mountain air, exhaling slowly as he turned his gaze to the vale below. the world stretched before him, draped in white, hiding the secrets buried beneath. a kingdom built on tradition, on expectation.  

he smiled to himself—slow, knowing.  

chaudry had made his point, but so had he.  

and so, lucifer remained, if only for a moment longer, before the shadows pulled him forward once more.