King Elk Forest the descent to hell is easy

@Mato :)

Trajan figures if he's going after the Mercenary trade, he might as well start now. The fledgling pack is small, with only Mato, Seabreeze and himself as members, and although worry stirs in the pit of the Roman's stomach, he has faith that they will find enough wolves eventually and the pack will exist. The only question is: if they did manage to claim the forest, how long would they be able to remain? It nags Trajan everyday — nothing ever stays, nothing ever remains. He wonders why everything has to change, why time even exists — there are moments in this universe which are too perfect and he hates the fact that when time flows, he cannot stay in those moments. He can only return to them in his memory, and even that fades eventually.
The philosopher sighs and shakes his head. It is too early in the morning for these thoughts, the sky is still dark, the only hint of morning was the bluish gray tint of the sky. It is also early to begin border patrols, he thinks, but a brief scent mark is good. It warns others that someone wishes to settle in this land, and to be cautious of where they put their paws. 
Trajan licks his lips, slinking through the shadows of the trees with careless ease. Sometimes, he pauses to lift his leg, or rub his paw absentmindedly into the bushes and the ground. Border duty is something he enjoys perhaps a little too much — it allows him time alone with his innermost thoughts and to gather energy for the day to come. It also gives him, on some occasions, the opportunity to test his skills against a lone wolf. Of course, the Roman welcomes company; he admits that sometimes, patrols get boring without a friend to do it with you.
But Mato and Seabreeze were probably asleep, or somewhere else, and he has no friends in these Wilds. A shiver runs down his spine and he tosses his head, pace increasing into a light jog. He does not wish to dwell to deeply in his thoughts, even though somehow, they are always inevitable.

Mato, earlier in the morning, had awoken and careful not to wake her detached himself from Seabreeze’s side to stargaze; but untraditionally the druid did not linger among the stars for long. There is much that needs his attention, after all. The stars can wait. They have been there since the dawning of time and they will remain there long after Mato is little more than dust and ash. So far: a scrawny red fox he’d found digging into the roots of a tree had ended up being the first catch to grace Tindómë’s first food cache — which only served to remind Mato that at some point Aerlinn and him would need to make a trip back to Northstar Vale to explain, to inform so that they are not branded traitors as he has every intention of keeping their departure amicable. Once the borders have been effectively, marked, he thinks and with Trajan’s help it should not be too cumbersome of a task.

It is as Mato makes his way to the would-be borders that he catches the Roman’s scent, already marking them that Mato adjusts his course and quickly catches up with the older male. The empyrean lets out a soft chuff to announce his presence as he lopes to join the man’s side. “Good morning, Trajan.” Morwinyon greets the soldier in a lofty, buoyant tone. The druid pauses to lift his leg and mark, before he moves forward a few paces to weave himself around the trunk of a tree that rests directly upon the borders like a cat would rub itself around it’s human’s leg.

Surprisingly, Trajan is soon joined by company. He casts Mato a brief glance and a nod of simple acknowledgement. "'Morning, Mato," he says, scrubbing a paw against the dirt. The aspiring King is up early, the Roman thinks, absentmindedly watching the younger wolf weave around the tree in front of them. Trajan wonders if early waking is simply a habit of the druid, or it just so happens that today, he woke up a bit earlier than usual. Either ways, the soldier does not mind a little company, he figures that he might as well get to know his future king a bit more.
The wraith pads forward silently, subconsciously travelling through the dancing charcoal shadows. They were moving like licks of fire and flame on the slowly lightening forest floor as a breeze blows gently, ruffling the leaves and branches of the canopy above, creating a soft rustling noise. He lifts a leg and marks, head tilting upwards to spare a glance at the sky. It was brightening now, a gentle myriad of soft pastel colours sweeping the length of the heavens. 
Trajan licks his lip and continues forward. He marks another tree before glancing at the gray druid through bi-coloured eyes. "So, where are you from, Mato?" he asks quietly, gaze sharply inquisitive like that of a bird's. Distantly, he wonders if his question comes off a bit rude, though he is only, in reality, trying at small talk to get to know the younger male better. He spares Mato another glance, trying to gauge his reaction of the soldier's somewhat straightforward questioning. He means no harm, really, but his words tend to bite, rather than heal and mend, and in the presence of a stranger and future leader, he is unsure of the levels of sarcasm he is allowed to use without losing Mato's good graces.
Trajan has fallen out with too many leaders in he past to make mistakes now.

Mato supposes it is only natural that Trajan would inquire as to where he is from — even if he thinks that it likely does not matter. A glimpse is spared to the roman whose gaze is sharp and inquisitive before Mato refocuses his gaze back to the border path before them after a few seconds, giving pause to scrape his paw against the ground, utilizing the scent pads in paws. “I was born here, in the Teekon Wilds,” The druid reminisces. “in a territory called Broken Antler Fen.” And all events of Mato’s birth and early childhood are, while fond, rather unexciting and thus he does not go into them. Umbra dipped ears twitch as a songbird lets out a low trill overhead and for a moment the druid's gaze is drawn to the branches over head before he returns his attention back to Trajan. “What about you?” Mato returns the question and while knowing where his pack mates are from isn’t necessarily important he asks out of courtesy and because Trajan asked first and it seems like a fair trade of information, if nothing else.

A flicker of interest passes Trajan's eyes, before vanishing into nothingness. It is interesting, he thinks, that Mato comes from these Wilds, but then he supposes that it really wasn't that surprising. He, himself, was born here, and that was two, nearly three years ago. Of course, in his absence, other wolves would give birth to new pups - this happened everywhere. Trajan thinks, slightly amused, that right now, there were probably a dozen, if not more wolves giving births to their pups. It is interesting, but the Roman does not dwell on it much longer, padding quietly forward.
He lifts a leg, spraying the ground, before tossing his head and exhaling lightly. "I was born here as well," Trajan says, scrubbing the ground lightly with his paws before continuing forwards. "In Swiftcurrent Creek. Then moved to Noctisardor Bypass as a pup. Then, I left Teekon entirely." He does not offer any details, figuring that Mato would not wish to hear the story of his relatively tragic and boring childhood. He doesn't mind sharing, however, if the druid does for some reason inquire on the reasons of his departure from Teekon Wilds.

For the briefest of moment Mato thinks he sees interest flicker across Trajan’s face before it vanishes, and Mato tucks it away. “You’ve had quite a journey then,” Mato surmises in a contemplative tone, winding himself around another tree. He winces slightly as the bark tugs out a small tuft of his fur but he keeps going. A small price to pay for ensuring the King Elk Forest is not stolen out from underneath Tindómë. It is theirs and he would bleed for it, for them if that was what was required of him. As Mato has never been a fighter and until recently shown no real interest in it, this knowledge surprises him a bit; but the truth behind the feels are not diminished by his surprise. “What is it like? The world outside of the Teekons?” Mato will never leave them. He was born here, he will grow old here, and it is here he will die one day. He knows this. Knows this in the very marrow of his bones; so his curiosity is only that: he seeks to sate his muted curiosity for that which he knows he will never see. He pauses along their path to sniff at the ground before he lifts his leg to mark it, afterwords turning bright, apple green gaze to the soldier as he patiently waits for his words.

Trajan inclines his head in a nod. It had been a journey, losing his mother and sister young, then leaving his brothers and first home to go with his unknown father to his unknown pack. It was a rash decision, probably the first of many to come, but it brought good outcomes which was more than he could say for the other rash decisions he'd made further on in his life. He rarely does that anymore, though, nowadays, he thinks his actions through before acting on them and it saved his life more than once. "I suppose so," he replies with a lick of his lips and a faraway look.
"It's a lot like Teekon," Trajan tells, bright mismatched eyes meeting Mato's green ones truthfully and shifts his weight between his paws. "I haven't been around much, just up North to where my father's pack is. It's a lot colder up there, and there are many packs, some traditional, much like Teekon, others strange and unique, with different cultures and histories. I come from a pack of Rome, for example." He lifts a broad shoulder in a shrug. "It's a larger Teekon, you could say."

you get my 100th post! :0

Trajan has a faraway look about his eyes, a look that the druid recognizes if only because he is sure that same look has been on his face many times. The look that says you are physically there but not necessarily mentally. Caught up in memories or lost in the stars (in Mato’s case). Mato was content to let him lost to his memories, not daring to break the spell. His umbra dipped ears fluttered forward, left ear twitching towards Trajan when the male spoke once more, this time answering the druid’s question. “You’ll have to forgive me but what is Rome?” Mato feels a small rise of humility that he has to ask, that he does not know but the word is foreign to the empyrean’s ears and he is afraid he has no idea what Trajan speaks of. Is it a pack? Is it a collection of territories like Teekon? It strikes Mato that hearing that the world outside of the Teekons is just like the Teekons only larger is…anticlimatic. It shatters the illusions the druid had held of it. “I see.” He is unimpressed and does not make attempts to hide it from his tone. “I do not intend to ever leave the Teekons but it's nice to know that I am not missing anything with that decision.” Mato speaks with an lofty shrug. He was born here, his energies are here. He has a desire to explore the Teekons but no further (aided by Trajan’s disappointing explanation that it is more or less the same) and he is content with the knowledge that he will never know the outside world.

yayy congrats! :)

Mato asks what Rome is, and for a moment Trajan doesn't know how to answer. After all, how does one explain what Rome is in words? He thinks deeply for a moment and chooses his words with utmost care, "Rome is an Empire," he says at last, "a huge empire. Gigantic. Humongous. It has many branches spread out through the entire world, each branch is a pack and each pack carries out the ways of Rome, spreads its history, traditions and conquers more land, making it part of Rome. I come from a branch of Rome which my father rules. It is a place for soldiers and scholars, knowledge and war. They coexist in harmony, most of the time. Rome is an empire, a place, a people. It's what I am," Trajan lifts a shoulder in a shrug and glances at Mato. "I'm not particularly good at explaining things," he says, "and I'm not quite sure how to explain what Rome is without going into lengthy detail. But you get the idea."
Trajan isn't sure if Mato is impressed or not, and truthfully, couldn't care less. He is proud to be a man of Rome, and even if Mato thinks that it's stupid and rubbish, he will always be a man of Rome. Nothing can change that, especially not a boy's opinion. However, the soldier finds amusement in the druid's unimpressed thoughts in regards to the world outside of Teekon Wilds. He could argue that the world outside was more diverse and rich in different cultures, but the Roman doesn't do so, finding it more or less just a waste of breath. 
"You're pretty sure you aren't going to leave Teekon," Trajan says, "but you're still young, how are you so sure?" He isn't undermining Mato because of his age, but rather, he is curious as to why the boy is so sure he does not wish to leave. Does he not want to see what the big wide world is like? Teekon is nothing but a dot on the world's map, and the druid is as insignificant to the world as it gets, just like Trajan is. Doesn't he want to see what the world is like?

i realized while writing this how out of whack mato's timeline truly is, haha. oh well, i'm just going to go with it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The ethereal druid gives Trajan his rapt, undivided attention as the older male sets about explaining to him what is Rome, a twitch of his ear, lazy is the only sign of Mato’s annoyance at Trajan’s repetition in regards to the size of Rome and what it is. The empyrean understands well enough the first time, but does not speak further, instead offering a sage nod of his head to signify that he is, indeed, paying attention and that he understands.. Trajan’s answer more or less explains the surface of what Mato had wished to know; and in truth the druid’s inquisitiveness was focusing upon these “cultures” that Trajan spoke of but for what purpose? He is not chronicler and he does not seek to convert his own beliefs for anyone else’s. He is a guardian of the earth. “I have no reason to leave,” Mato speaks it simply, as he sees it. “besides, I am content to build here, in the Teekons. It is where I was born, it is where my energies are. I am closest to the earth here. Why would I want to leave?” Reason aside he had no desire to leave. The druid cannot begin to explain the way he feels the earth and her energies: the negative and the positive. He only knows that he does. It is the empyrean’s turn to offer a lofty shrug as he pauses to kick up a few clumps of dirt.

With all that out of the way, Mato moves onto the next topic. “There is another male, named Delight, whom has joined us. He should be in the King Elk Forest by now,” The druid broaches. “I would like you to speak with him, get to know him as you and I are getting to one another now. Aer — Seabreeze as well.” Mato catches himself as he almost calls her Aerlinn to someone other than herself. Morwinyon's request is an informal one, optional but one that he hopes Trajan decides to do if only because it wouldn’t take so long for the wolves of Tindómë to become acquainted.

Trajan thinks distantly that Mato's reasoning is flawed and small-minded. He is young and green and he does not truly know the dangers of the world just yet. But then again, the soldier thinks, it is not his place to judge the younger wolf. Mato has time to learn and make his mistakes, make the mistakes that Trajan had already made and learn from them. The soldier is here to offer his support, not to judge the younger male just because of his age. So, Trajan simply lifts a shoulder in a shrug and glances away, mismatched eyes staring into the far distance. Somehow, he misses home. Not here. Not Teekon Wilds. Home.
He shrugs that thought away, however, when Mato speaks and Trajan spares him a brief glance and an almost impercetible nod of his head. "Sure thing, boss," he says amiably, lifting his leg to mark yet another piece of land. He wants to comment on Mato's slip, but decides against it, guessing that if the younger wolf corrected himself so quickly, it probably meant that he had no wish to tell the others about that topic yet. Not that Trajan really cared, to be honest. Mato's sexual and romantic dealings were of no interest to the soldier.

this seemed like a good place to wrap this up; i hope it's ok i just wrote up a little conclusion post and had it archived. c:

Trajan responds favorably to the request and Mato gives the solider a sage nod of contentment. Coming from someone whom had not been overly sociable in Northstar Vale the words are almost contradicting but …he wants the wolves of Tindómë to know one another — it’s something he has promised himself he will work on. Besides, it has become a duty of his as Morwinyon. It is his job to know the wolves that lives beneath his rule ….beyond just their name, that is. The pair continue their border marking patrol and the druid is content to finish the task in companionable silence before they parted ways.