Dragoncrest Cliffs Bonfire heart

@Xan or @Kendra? Anyone's welcome, though. :)

Ever since her second heat (her second chance, Wildfire considered it), the pack's Bandrona had been in a fine mood. But she had also become a little withdrawn from the rest of the pack, save for her wife, the Wocha and his wife. It was like her focus became laser sharp for one thing and one thing only: her children. After the weather improved and the pack dispersed from the caves, the red she-wolf spent most of her time hunting and exploring on her own.

Over the past few days, she had definitely begun feeling a compulsion to find a proper whelping den. That's what she was doing now: roaming the redwoods, sticking her smudged snout in every nook and cranny in search of the perfect space. She couldn't stop thinking of the felled tree near the sound. Wildfire wanted something like that. Thuringwethil might prefer she give birth elsewhere and she would definitely consult with the commander before choosing, yet in the end, Wildfire's maternal instincts would likely rule.

She struck gold around mid-morning, when she discovered a dead sequoia with a hollowed trunk full of brush. There was a small crack in its base which she had to widen with her teeth and claws. It took almost an hour to clear out the debris and the interior smelled of damp earth and wet, rotted leaves. The Bandrona slipped inside, her small paws patting down the rich, earthy soil. Despite the dampness, she flopped down with her head angled toward the misshapen doorway, which afforded her a view of the woods sprawling to the east. It was well shaded here, yet this den would get the morning sun.

Wildfire stretched out her legs and let her chin sink to perch atop them, a smile on her lips.

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Ever since having stumbled upon the pack, he’d stayed for but one reason: Kendra. When the storm had hit, she’d been far too weak for them to continue onward by themselves. The support that a proper pack could provide had been a necessity at the time, though he started to wonder as of late whether or not the same could still be said. The weather was mild, at best, and he felt his spirits rise with the hope of spring’s arrival in the weeks to come. Alexander believed he could survive well enough on his own, but his inability to leave behind a familiar face had prevented him from testing that out. For as long as his companion needed to remain as one with the pack—or wanted to—he’d stay, too, as was a realization he’d been quick to make. It’d prompted him to set out and better acquaint himself with the others, which he’d tried (and failed) to do. Within the amount of time that it took for him to blink, he’d veered away from all paths that might take him to several other wolves and chose to head in the opposite direction instead.

Normally, the albino would have waited until the night had fallen to wander, but he’d made an exception that morning after noticing just how early he’d awoken. The sun had yet to reach a high point in the sky, and so its rays weren’t nearly as harsh as they could have been. Without a hindrance on his eyesight, he’d felt more comfortable further exploring the territory, though his mind was elsewhere whilst doing so. Unaware of the scents surrounding him—all he could smell were the fragrances of his memories and previous homes—Xan hadn’t realized just where he was going. Even after having walked right passed the hollowed trunk his state of oblivion remained, neither his eyes nor his nose having been able to make him stop and look her way.

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She lay there, daydreaming, until footfalls announced someone's arrival. Wildfire swiftly lifted her head and straightened somewhat without yet climbing to her feet. Her ears pricked and she tipped her smudged muzzle to scent the air. She recognized the wolf, though only vaguely. He was a relatively new arrival and Wildfire hadn't gotten to acquaint with him properly yet, having been sequestered a lot lately.

"Hey!" she called out when he meandered past the tree without noticing her. She pushed herself onto all fours, gave her pelt a shake, then stepped out of the tree. "You're... Xan, right?" she guessed, approaching him with a little wiggle of her black tail. "I'm Wildfire, the pack's Bandrona," she introduced herself with a smile and dip of her head, her cheery mood quite evident in her cordiality.

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Although neither his nose nor his eyes had been willing to alert him, his ears had, and upon hearing a sudden hey he stopped. At first, he wondered if he might have been hearing things, until a slow turn of his body left him staring at a vibrant female. Despite the goal that he’d set for himself earlier that morning, Alexander couldn’t help but sneak a glance to either of his sides, searching for a way out of the encounter. Hearing his name spoken had lured his attention back to her, after which he’d nodded, confirming his identity. By then, she’d already approached, thus closing his window of escape. Frowning, the yearling did his best to prepare mentally for a conversation, having to fight against every rude, crude, and ignorant remark that threatened to make their way out of his mouth. It wasn’t Blackfeather, he couldn’t just say anything and then hide behind his father’s image—his days of doing so were over and, as much as it frustrated him to admit it, he was on his own.

Wildfire’s cheeriness was not mirrored, the Inuk’s features having instead become stoic. Perhaps there was a slight twitch of his ear, but the boy was still besides that, his earlier frown turned straight. A quick, internal reminder had him dipping his head shortly after, but the mundane pleasantries of nice to meet you and nice weather today never followed. Instead, he asked, “What’s a Bandrona?” The title wasn’t one that he could recall having heard back in the woods, which left him feeling lost.

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Something about his features closed off to her, Wildfire noticed fairly quickly. Another day, it might have bothered her or prompted her to excuse herself. Today, however, her spirits were so high that they were out of reach; she could not be brought down by something as trivial as someone else's lack of a smile.

"That's just a fancy way of saying I'm the pack's lead ambassador," she replied with a swish of her tail. Although she saw no difference between wolves familiar with Drageda's cultures and those who weren't, she usually found less of a blockade with the latter. With that said, Xan here still looked a little as if he wanted to make a quick escape. But Wildfire grinned a little, refusing to let him off the hook.

"It's nice to meet you, Xan. What trades are you pursuing?" she wondered, getting straight to the point but maintaining an entirely conversational tone.

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With the title’s meaning revealed, he couldn’t help but wonder back to Blackfeather. Did they have a rank equivalent to Bandrona? The lack of a memory made him assume not but, then again, that aspect of pack life had never interested him, so he very well could have just missed out on hearing about it. Either way, he left it at that, the thoughts of his past home dropped so that he might better focus on the present. The topic of her role wasn’t yet abandoned, though, his curiosity having gotten the better of him. “If you’re the lead ambassador, does that mean you have complete control over the other ambassadors?” he asked, having yet to fully grasp the inner-workings of Drageda. If there was a lead anything, did that automatically grant said individual undivided power over all others that fell beneath them, or did the leaders work together as a group? Another question, but for another time.

As the topic was changed his interest was somewhat piqued, knowing more about trades and what they meant than he did about the pack. A beat later and he’d answered with, “Mercenary,” never having needed much time to think when questioned about his trade goals. Since day one, he’d known that he wanted to become a warrior, and had since worked to pursue his dream of becoming the best one in existence. As for what else he wanted to accomplish… “I’m not sure what other trade I want,” he admitted. The thought of becoming a Chronicler someday—a weaver of tales—had seemed appealing to him in the past, but he’d never actually settled on whether or not to pursue it.

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His question caused her to cock her head, eyebrow arching a little and lips tugging into a faint smirk. "I don't have control over anyone, complete or otherwise," Wildfire answered. "It mostly just means I'm the highest-ranked ambassador in the pack, serving as a leader alongside the Heda and Wocha." She rolled a shoulder in a half-shrug, wondering if he was familiar with the terms for her fellow Hedonakru. If he didn't know them, she would be happy to explain.

The conversation moved onto trades and she bobbed her head in acknowledgement. "Who says you have to have two?" she asked automatically, then blinked as she wondered whether that was something Thuringwethil required. She didn't know and that might reflect poorly on her, especially as a leader. Blinking, she added, "You could be a mercenary and pursue more than one specialty in the field. You could be both a warrior and a guardian, for instance."

"Would you like to walk?" she added in the next breath, making a motion before taking a few steps forward. "And maybe tell me where you came from before you joined Drageda?"

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With furrowed brows, he listened to her explanation. It made sense, sort of, though he still didn’t get the whole lead bit if control didn’t come along with it. No matter, he didn't question it any further and instead focused on the other titles mentioned. The words were strange, just as Bandrona was, leaving him without any chance at linking them to words that he did understand the meanings of. Thinking back, he was pretty sure he had at least heard the former rank before; Thuringwethil had introduced herself with it preceding her given name. Still, despite having heard it spoken, the meaning behind it eluded him. “What are those?” he asked, curious whilst also wondering if it was important for him to know. If he could get away with not learning something, then he likely would, but he didn’t want to make a fool out of himself by not recognizing an important leader’s title when he should.

Questioned, he responded first with a shrug. “I just assumed,” he then said. To be in possession of two trades had always seemed better in his mind, like those individuals knew more, but he didn’t know his exact reasoning for thinking that way. It was a thought that had formed at random and then stuck, disinterested in abandoning his memory. “I think I’d still like to have two someday, specialties or not,” was his final decision. Even if it took years for him to figure out what else he might be interested in, he’d pursue the trade once it hit him. The idea alone of doing so seemed to settle nicely within him, though the idea of waiting… not so much.

Alexander watched as she took several steps before nodding, then proceeded to begin walking in the direction she’d moved. The suggested topic had caught him off guard, but he’d responded anyways by saying, “I came from Blackfeather Woods.” Well, he hadn’t actually been a member of the woods for quite some time prior to finding the coastal pack, but it was still the place he’d come from. “Unless if you mean where I was born?” he asked, tossing a glance her way. “Then I’d have to say Bearclaw Valley.” Again, he left out the bit about his travels in between Blackfeather and Drageda, as they seemed unimportant.

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She didn't bother arguing with him when he insisted he wanted to pursue two trades; beyond his ability to contribute to the pack, it was none of her business. Wildfire did take the time to explain, "Well, your title here will depend on your trade. That's where the leadership's titles comes from. Thuringwethil is the Heda, which is essentially the same as an Alpha. There's an open rank for a Fleimkepa, which is basically a Beta and advisor. Dio, the Wocha, is the lead mercenary." And she had already explained her own title, so she didn't bother repeating herself.

Of the two former packs he named, one struck her as vaguely familiar. "Blackfeather Woods—is that down south?" Wildfire asked. "Near Redhawk Caldera?" she added in case he was familiar with her own birthplace. Her tail twirled lazily as she glanced sideways at his face to gauge his expression.

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Whilst his eyes watched the path ahead, he focused on the sound of her voice and the words that were being strung together. He wondered about the origin of the ranks, and probably would have asked had the Wocha title not been mentioned. It captured his attention, bringing him to glance her way and stare for a second or two before averting his gaze. “How’d he become the Wocha?” he asked. “Does that mean he fights better than the other mercenaries?” Since the moment he could properly formulate thoughts and develop opinions, Alexander had harboured something similar to an obsession with becoming the best. Learning that the pack might have singled out their most skilled warrior sparked his interest, as well as made him want to seek out Dio.

Xan nodded, then added, “Yeah, it’s in the south.” As for the location that she named, he thought about it, but could only shrug in response. “I don’t know, I never learned about the nearby packs. I was too busy.” In fact, he had been so focused on settling in, training, and various other things that he’d never really left the pack’s territory for the longest time. If there weren’t any packs or loners causing trouble or targeting the woods, then he had never heard about them.

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He didn't seem to recall the caldera, though Wildfire supposed it wasn't important. It was interesting that they'd both been born in the south only to wind up here, on the opposite side of the Teekon Wilds. She hoped his story wasn't filled with as much horror and heartache as hers, though at least most of that was so far in her rear view mirror that it rarely affected her anymore.

"He's a tried and true warrior, though I don't know how he measures up against every individual in the pack. He's the most trusted and experienced of them, though, handpicked by Heda for the position," Wildfire added, wondering if Xan was interested in trying to unseat Dio. Would he challenge him? Would Thuringwethil allow that? But he made no indication of any such intention, so the Bandrona didn't pursue that line of thought.

Picking up a different thread of conversation, Wildfire wended around a curve in their given path and asked, "You came here with Kendra, right? Is she also from Blackfeather Woods? How are you two related?"

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Although he didn’t receive the confirmation that he’d wanted, the answer was enough. Dio might not be the strongest warrior within the pack, but if truly was the most experienced, then he was still worth meeting. “Where can I find him? Where’s he usually at?” he asked, bothering not with trying to hide his curiosity. Anyone with a decent amount of experience was someone that he’d like to at least talk to, as well as possibly spar with. So long had passed since he’d last taken the time to properly train and condition himself, but he was ready to get back into it; perhaps, if he were to further develop his skills, he could visit his family without fear. The thought of being able to see his father, as well as Potema and Damien, made him all the more eager to meet the seasoned Wocha—he’d even considered ditching Wildfire after being given an answer, but quickly thought better of it and chose to stay no matter if he received a response or not.

As he walked along with her, his gaze trailed over his surroundings, committing the sights to memory whilst simultaneously ensuring that he wasn’t in any danger. His concentration was broken as he once again looked her way and hastily answered with: “We aren’t related.” The other questions, though spoken prior to the first one that he’d answered, had been slow to make their way through his ears and into his brain. “We did come here together, and she was born in Blackfeather, but we aren’t related,” he said, unconsciously repeating himself. “We’re just, uh… friends.” The word felt weird in his mouth, but he only kind of disliked it.

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"The borders," was Wildfire's immediate answer when questioned about Dio's usual whereabouts, "or by Portia's den." She took a moment to describe its location before adding, "You can always howl for him directly. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

But Xan's response about Kendra was much more interesting than where their Wocha might be lurking at any given moment. His quick, firm answer as well as his repetition caused her brows to raise a little, a smile teasing at the corners of her eyes and mouth. His next few words—particularly the hesitant way he stated that they were friends—only caused the Bandrona's curiosity to grow. She was so tempted to tease him, though her instincts told her he wouldn't take it well.

She had to give him some credit, though; he was keeping up with the conversation, even if their Q&A was decidedly one-sided. And he hadn't bailed yet. Because Wildfire was in such good spirits and a giving mood, she decided she would let him off the hook now. So he could get back to Kendra, his friend, or maybe go track down the pack's head warrior.

"Hey, it's been great talking to you but I'm going to go find Heda," Wildfire announced, slowing to a stop. Her black tail waved and she dipped her smudged snout to the pale Kru. "I'll see you around, Xan." With a parting woof, she then spun on a heel and departed. Despite what she'd told him, she did not go looking for Thuringwethil immediately. She would find the commander to tell her about the redwood but, for the moment, that was where she returned.

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The borders seemed like his best bet, as well as the option that he was most likely to select. It would take longer to find the male, perhaps, but at least then he wouldn’t be at risk of walking in on something that he had no interest in seeing, or having his call answered by someone he didn’t want to meet. He gave a stiff nod after making his decision, though made sure that the description of Portia’s—she was the healer, right?—den was committed to memory; whilst he would likely search the borders for Dio, having knowledge of where the healer—he was, like, pretty sure he was thinking about the right wolf—resided might come in handy someday.

Xan was relieved when no more questions were asked of him, and even more so when the Bandrona excused herself. He said nothing until she had turned to leave, her departing form having served as a reminder for him to speak. “Yeah, I’ll see you around, too,” he rushed out, wanting to make sure he was heard before she got too far away. Once she could no longer be seen, he glanced around before altering his direction, then headed off towards the borders to begin his search.

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