Redhawk Caldera Picture if you will

And now, after poking around there's like 5 wolves trying to join?  Have fun figuring out who gets in. :P I know wasn't the first two to post an actual joining thread, AND Tit's returning, so if it's 2late4Qui, I'm ok with that (but he's not, rip).

He'd wanted to go fishing.  The water of the lake had been icy but not yet totally frozen.  The few places where crust had formed it would barely carry a bird.  Speaking of birds, there had been one that had really driven Quixote up the wall the past few days.  The occasional snow seemed to make the geese more ornery too, and as Quixote failed a fishing trip yet again, they'd even charged him once he reached shore.  Too dumbfounded to properly take advantage of this, the acid-eyed wolf actually retreated from the overstuffed puffball.  What had transpired since had mostly been a lot of watching and waiting for the perfect moment.  That encounter had put the bird on Quixote's hit list, and since winter wasn't arriving any slower, if that stupid featherbrain could serve a dual purpose, he was all for it.

Patience had been rewarded.  He'd then have to drag the awkward, wingy beast through the spiked trails, its primaries grabbing everything it could on the way.  It would have been a lot easier had he gone to the lake to the west, but the one to the north was the one he was familiar with.  His internal dialog was a colorful selection of swears, occasionally interspersed with the word "goose," which continued long after he unhooked a giant webbed foot from the last grabby bush that would stand in his way.  One thing was for sure, if he wasn't granted entry, this stupid bird had his name on it... He'd just have to make sure to word himself well enough that it wasn't promised until it was clear.  Screw this stupid bird and its big wings and its feathers and everything.  For a Canada goose, it was a fairly large bird, still nice and plump from the feasts of the greener months.  Hopefully it would appease.  After the trouble he was having with a bird, he imagined how awful dragging along anything larger would be -- especially a deer from Neverwinter Forest, where he'd been staying...  He'd spend at least three days just hauling the damn thing.  Fresh meat seemed like a better gift.

He went over everything Towhee had said to him as he paused at the borders, unceremoniously dropping the bird at his feet.  It sprawled everywhere.  Appearances.  He nudged the bird over onto its side, tucking its wings in a bit so it perhaps didn't visually reek of the hatred he had for it.  He shook out his fur, looking for any debris.  Seemed presentable.  At last he raised his head and howled, requesting @Elwood and/or @Finley at the particular patch of border he'd chosen to appear in front of this day.  Someone else could always appear first, but eh.  He'd find out who heard him soon enough.  Upon lowering his head he also made a note...  Was that Colt he smelled this time?  It had been long enough he wasn't entirely sure but it did seem rather like that was maybe him.  He'd have to ask, but for now all Quixote could do was take a seat and wait, ears pricked forward for the first sign of someone approaching.

I guess we'll see what happens! :P

Another day, another summons. Their borders had been hopping lately, which didn't exactly sit well with Elwood. He wanted to be flying under the radar, to keep his home and family secure in the wake of what had happened with Wildfire. But it seemed that the whole wilds had been knocking at his door, and while he was guarded, at his core he was just too friendly to chase everyone away with teeth bared. Unless they smelled like blood and feathers, of course.

This wolf was waiting with a dead goose at its feet. It was a good sign, Elwood assumed, although he remained skeptical. The male was young and healthy, and seemed attentive as the Alpha approached. His body language conveyed his wariness with an inclined chin and tail, and his ears pressed forward with interest. He couldn't help the saliva that began to pool in his mouth as he eyed the bird. "What's this?" he asked, pausing at a safe distance that still allowed his voice to carry properly.

As he was mentally working his way through not promising the goose to anyone until he was safely a member, he did realize something.  The whole gift thing was a bribe wasn't it?  He wouldn't put it past the ones he grew up with.  "Hey, lemme in to the pack and I'll give you this tasty food."  And they'd let them in, just about every time.  Soon enough, the approach of another willed the black wolf to his feet.  He stretched, yawning to dispel some of the stress that was already starting to build up within him.  Quixote was not good at social things, and though he kept himself politely low, his ears folded slightly back.  The other stopped far enough away that at least the guy wouldn't be able to do the scummy thing and just steal the goose and run (thankfully).

His answer was quite amused, I hadn't thought about it before now, but I suppose it's a bit of a bribe.  Where I was from, tradition was to bring a gift for the leadership if they accepted you as a member. It wasn't quite accurate.  They usually brought a more modest gift that they didn't care as much about giving away but for all that was good in the world, Quixote was not giving up the goose without a promise of a pack's security.  Are you.. Uh.  Elwood then?  If I made the wrong assumption, I apologize, they're one of the two Towhee said to ask for.  Both names sounded fairly ambiguous to him, but Elwood sounded like it'd have a slightly higher chance of being masculine.   I am Quixote.  I was told that someone with some tactical experience might be useful to you?  Doing this all in two parts was, well, weird.  He had no idea if Towhee had said anything to anyone about their earlier meeting.  A few days had passed since then, so there was a fair chance, but...

The mention of a bribe at first put Elwood on his guard. Who was to say that this wasn't a wolf from Blackfeather, here to poison him with tainted meat? While he stiffened slightly, he kept his thoughts to himself as the wolf continued to explain himself. And things soon began to slide into place: he introduced himself as Quixote, and also name-dropped Towhee. Immediately, Elwood relaxed slightly. It may have seemed silly to some for him to trust such a young wolf so implicitly, but he knew that Towhee's vetting was rigorous and that she was hard to impress.

"Ah," he said, inclining his chin slightly in understanding. "Towhee told you that we are in need of tactical assistance?" he asked. It wasn't far from the truth; with war possibly brewing on the horizon, they needed all the help they could get. Redhawk Caldera was a pack of guardians, not warriors. "Tell me more about yourself, Quixote," he encouraged, his body language indicating that he was attentive and ready to listen.

Well that was like 2 weeks of immense chaos but I SURVIVED and here I am posting. :P Sorry for the delay! --  And though Qui is supposed to be a wolf of few words.. uh.  Well.  Apparently he's also bad at shutting up.

They did seem a little tightly-wound in this pack.  More so than the others he met in the region at least, but at the same time, not nearly as hostile as he'd expect, either.  Quixote didn't know the specifics, but suspected he'd end up being a lot more vicious at the borders if it was his pack.

He frowned thoughtfully, running through his mental cliffnotes of the Towhee encounter.  Yeah she said that one of the neighbors has pissed off... Three packs I think it was?  I'd imagine that if any of you move for revenge if it's needed, wrangling that many wolves would need a little more expertise if you aren't just relying on sheer numbers and the resulting chaos.  He hoped it was in a tone that expressed the fact it was an offer -- an option -- rather than a know-it-all statement of what they had to do.  If they wanted to go rampaging on in with no direction, by all means, have at it -- he'd go find somewhere else to put his feet up.

He was never sure what was the proper way to explain things.  He thought many of those he grew up around were fools in  one way or another, frequently questioning the choices of leadership mentally as it wasn't proper to do so mentally.  The area I was from wasn't exactly peace-loving.  I think packs were being bred to squabble with each other for generations, so at least as far as that goes, I am familiar.  There was a tacticians group in my birth pack. I did my best to learn from them.  And by that, he meant eavesdrop as much as possible since he wasn't the required billion years old yet. Even from just my wandering around here, I have the sense that this place is a lot.. Different is too vague a term.  Things there that were merely traditions there seem a bit more morally ambiguous here just based on the wolves I've met.  He was rough around the edges, and there was no saying he'd polish out to polite any time in his lifespan.  All I wish is to be somewhere where wolves act on reason, and I can be useful.  And if it didn't happen soon, things were gonna get a bit more risky.

I don't know if there's something more specific you'd want to know. Uh.  I mean, yeah sure, I've got the usual hunting, tracking, little bit of first aid, blah blah normal skills but I'd hope that'd be expected of most lone wolves that aren't skeletons.  Being verbally suave was not his thing.  He looked to Elwood for some sort of direction on what next.

He listened, taking mental notes as Quixote spoke. It did sound like he had some experience with altercations between packs, which was in itself a good thing as well as a bad thing. He hoped that Quixote's history of squabbling packs didn't indicate that he was a troublemaker himself, although his reasonable way of talking and casual nature indicated otherwise.

In the wake of the realizations of Blackfeather's danger, Elwood was forced to be much pickier than usual. His new mindset urged him to turn Quixote away simply because he was unfamiliar, much as he had to Wylla. But the fact that Quixote had already met and made a presumably positive intention on Towhee was what kept him from reacting on his base instincts.

"Interesting," he said thoughtfully. "Without going into too much detail, you're right -- there is trouble brewing with another pack in the area. If you're able to pull your own weight and contribute to the pack in the normal ways, I can't deny that we could use your expertise. What else did you discuss with Towhee?" he asked, hoping to vet him a bit further before making a commitment.

Again came the thoughtful frown.  Oh how he sometimes wished he was the charismatic type who could actually have interesting conversations this side of snarkville.  Uh.  Not too much else really.  Was kind of a weird meeting.  Started off with some hawk or eagle or something flapping around on the ground.  Spent much of it thinking I'd eaten some bad carrion or berries or something -- the bird and then her not reacting at first, and then her voice.. Had thought the most likely solution was something was wrong with me.  Think admitting that killed the conversation.  It wasn't one of his prouder moments, and he still kinda felt bad for being such a dunce and that showed faintly on his face.

He canted his head, gaze drifting as he tried to remember what else was mentioned.  It wasn't anything important, was it?  The black wolf went on to list a few things, Think I rambled a bit about some of the guys from my old pack who looked like creepy ghost-story freaks.  She mentioned the other packs -- I'd run into mostly just lone wolves and those making new packs at that point... Blackfeather's the problem, right?  And Moonspear, which he remembered, courtesy of Hydra, and.. Something like 'Dragon' -- those as the ones who might be interested in helping you guys out. He paused for potential affirmation from Elwood, before continuing.  

She mentioned Redhawk is familial.. Tightly-knit.  I suppose the only thing that really concerns me is that I'm used to a pack that felt more often like a strange collection of dysfunctional misfits.  Quixote assumed that going from dysfunction to "normal" would be the easier direction to go in general, the big hurdle would be to learn to trust people at their word again.  He kind of wanted to ask more about pack life there but it seemed kind of presumptive to do so at this point.

Thanks for your patience with my slowness! I'm going to go ahead and add Quixote to the ranks. :)

A small smile twitched at the corner of Elwood's lips at the mention of Towhee's hawk. Quixote wasn't the only one to think that her avian companion was strange, but he didn't seem to have as averse a reaction as Wylla had. As far as he was concerned, the bird wasn't a problem -- yet, anyway. It was just a bit peculiar.

Quixote continued, naming off the involved parties that Towhee had mentioned. Drageda, Moonspear, and, of course, Blackfeather. His last statement was on the tightly-knit quality of the caldera. It had been a family-based pack for quite some time, but there had always been room for those who proved their mettle.

"We have our own dysfunction here," he quipped with what was almost a chuckle. "Honestly, it sounds like we could really benefit from your experience. I can offer you a place in our ranks as long as you are up to the challenge of helping us deal with Blackfeather -- and it sounds like you are." Once Quixote accepted the proposition, he would allow him to cross the borders; he waited patiently for that moment.

No prob!  It's the time of the year for tons of random interruptions and/or slowness! :D

At the very least he was thankful that it didn't seem like Quixote had gone and screwed up his meeting here with Elwood.  There was always that nagging feeling that he, as the not most amiable sort of wolf, was going to end up majorly messing up things.  Somehow.  Most likely by saying something that was just rough and tumble sarcasm to him but might be interpreted as an insult to others.  To a certain point he was just waiting until that happened. It had to at some point.

But no, not this time.  Quixote bowed his head in return, It'd be my honor.  I will begin my work immediately to ensure the pack's safety. There was also the matter of the goose. And of course, this is yours or the pack's -- whichever is more appropriate.  He dipped his head down, gently taking the bird's neck as he got to his feet and tentatively taking a couple of steps forward -- form and tail low, ears flicked back -- so that he might deposit it at Elwood's feet.  Doing so would be the thing that brought him across the border, so needless to say there was some hesitation in his action.  Any sign of aggression would likely send Quixote pinwheeling backwards. Trust issues. The knot in his chest didn't feel like it was going to unwind itself immediately -- here he was, offering his loyalty and taking a chance, which perhaps made that twinge of nervousness warranted as his mind tenaciously explored every way this could go wrong.  There were always liars and false prophets and he had to hope that he was heading down the right track.  Time would tell.

Assuming the bird is safely deposited, he'd take a couple of quick steps to the side so he could speak again, To save me a bit of initial exploring, is there some covered spot with a rock or dirt floor I could use for planning?  Snow's great for quickly explaining stuff, but it does have a tendency to self-erase...  Quixote wasn't exactly sure what other options there would be if there wasn't something that would match his needs.  He'd have to work something out, or just gain some sort of savant-like photographic memory.  Regardless, there were other supplies he'd need, too, but they were much more minor in comparison to the equivalent of a worktable. He quickly remembered, And isn't gonna get repeatedly stomped across in a single day.  The entrance of a den might be snow-free but walkways also muddled things quite well.

We can continue or wrap up if you want!

"Thank you," Elwood said as Quixote mentioned the goose. He bent to pick it up, then, realizing that it would be difficult to speak around its feathers, left it on the ground for a moment longer. This afforded him the opportunity to reply to Quixote's next question, as to the location of a place where he could do some planning.

"Maybe one of the tunnels under the caldera itself might be a good place for you to work," he mused out loud. "You should be able to scratch in the floor or the walls." With a nod indicating that Quixote should follow him, he grabbed the goose in his mouth and turned to point his paws towards the mountain's slope in the heart of their territory.

As the holidays have hit and I've had a huge delay on my end (eek!) probably best to wrap it up!

So he really was in.  It seemed kind of unreal to Quixote, but he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting in the first place.  Probably not this world that felt so different from the one he left, though.  It showed more similarities now, but it was an entirely different lens to look at things through, and it would likely take a while for him to get used to it -- to be able to make sure that he wasn't mucking things up spectacularly as he otherwise might be apt to.

Sounds about like what I'm looking for, yeah.  Let's see if it'll work!  He perhaps sounded a little more enthusiastic than he actually was, but he was looking forward to being useful -- and all the studying involved.  It was just the sort of thing that one should do in the future ill-weather ahead, he thought.  Ah yes, the winter weather -- he'd have to make sure that was properly covered in his calculations.  It sounded like a good way to add additional casualties, and not exactly in a good way.  If only time slowed down for a bit so they could have a proper fight without practically swimming in snow.

There was much to do.