Blackfeather Woods Tell me all that you've thrown away

@Étoillee :)

His stalking did not cease - not as the moon lay claim to the sky, not as the Woods became even darker than the shadows sweeping in between each tree. The Svartell was yet again patrolling, for it was among his duties, and it had become his favourite one. The silence of the blood-stained edges of the territory had become the area he was most familiar with, perhaps even more so than the den he took to resting in during the late afternoon.

His mind drifted to Cassiopeia as he walked - there had been little sign of his sister recently, though he could not quite decide whether this was a good or a bad thing. He had strongly disliked her sudden rise in the ranks, clearly having been favoured by the Dark Master (though for what reason this was he did not understand), yet he had developed an idea in his head wanting to make ammends with the girl. It seemed he might be too late. Shame, really, though the Svartell family had been broken a long time ago, and he was certain that even Sirius may have forgotten about them. What had become of that boy, the first born yet distant sibling? Who knew. Who knew, also, of the parents whereabouts - perhaps they were still in Moonspear. Perhaps not. Perhaps, even, they might be dead.... or gone. That would explain Cass' appearance at the Woods, though still he was unsure.

The thoughts were shaken from his mind as the ice blue eyes continued their search upon the borders and the horizon that lay beyond - for a patrol this was, after all, and dwindling on his family's ridiculous breaking apart was unneccessary.

It is more difficult to assess the forest than he'd hoped but it does not deter him. Their ranks are flush (he cannot tell the exact number) and they seem fairly prosperous. It is not in his nature to worry but he hopes Drageda is prepared; hopes they will have enough assistance from the others.

Argent's interest in the borders - specifically the trail of blood - had not been feigned but he is glad to have established it with Vaati. Gives him an excuse to be interested in exploring the perimeter of the pack, in addition for keeping his senses peeled for the impending arrival of their foes. "Patrolling" would be a stretch to say. He is more... examining the bits and bats of bodies. Curious who they were before they became a symbolic warning. 

There is another on patrol as well. The titan pauses, lifting his head as he spots the other - not Vaati, not someone he knows. He takes a step back, out of the other's way, and dips his head in greeting. "Hullo."

It was the unfamiliar scent that stood out from the thick blackfeather odour that caught his attention, grey muzzle lowering close to the ground to see if they had passed this way. No, but they were close. Instinctively his plume of a tail rose stiffly and remained high (though he was wary enough to make it not rise too high, for it was true he was not the highest of rank), as it was his duty to protect these borders and chase away those strangers. Unless, of course, they wished to join but that was another matter entirely and this wolf had not let out a call. 

There - he could see them now, and his eyes narrowed but the casual greeting let out from this stranger had his brow raise in solidarity. "What are you doing here?" He questioned, deep voice cold but curious. Aries is not one to attack without reason but having a wolf so close to their borders is unsettling to say the least, and his tail lashed behind him now.

He is a bit surprised by the youth's reaction - for a moment he thinks he must know, but instead the question is asked and a bit of understanding comes into Argent's eyes. Ah. "I am new to your ranks," he explains, his posture not quite deferential (he doesn't see a need for that, he is a part of Blackfeather at the moment) but lowered slightly, indicating a lack of threat. "Vaati accepted me. I am Argent," the titan adds, and waits for him to pass judgement -- he seems a tempermental sort, anyway.

Aries was not quite expecting the answer he recieved, but it did not show on his face - it was rare to see any emotion on the Svartell's face unless it was anger or amusement, though said amusement was usually only brought out if he was inflicting pain on another. It was a twisted way indeed that his mind worked, but he had come to accept it as his own. It was him. The boy blinked blankly at the stranger, but nodded slowly. Even if the words this wolf told turned out to be ones of truth, he would be sure to keep an icy eye on him. Perhaps it was simply his untrusting nature that willed him to do so, but he did not deny himself the opportunity to contribute to defending Blackfeather.

"Very well." But the Tyro did not give his name in return, for he felt no need to. They were not friends, and he assured himself that it was doubtful they ever would be. He would be civil and somewhat polite if this wolf truly was a newcomer, but he did not simply have friends for they only caused uneccessary difficulty. The only ones he would consider as such would be Nyx (he was her ward, after all), and perhaps Maegi (for he could not deny that he did feel somewhat protective over her). The others he knew, and maybe would one day grow closer to, but for now he could not care. They were packmates that he would defend, and of course he was mindful to respect the Dark Master, but they were not his friends as such.

"In that case, would you like to join me on my patrol? Or, perhaps a spar would be better?" An excuse to further watch this stranger, maybe, but the offer had been cast out and he would not pull it back. He did not offer the choice to say he particularly cared what this stranger wanted, but he did not mind what was picked. Either way, he was suspicious of this stranger (maybe unfairly so) and this gave him reason to be observant of the man and his actions.

 The boy accepts his answer but still seems dubious about him -- well enough. Argent doesn't mind. He knows he's done nothing wrong (that they would be aware of). He does quirk an eyebrow at the boy's question, considering. A patrol would satisfy his own curiosity and perhaps provide him with a strategic way to gain more information. Then again, a spar might offer a chance to... bond, as it were, with the boy. Perhaps curry some favor that might make it easier to extract information in the long run. 

Argent makes a thoughtful noise. "It has been some time since I sparred," he says (he has never sparred in his life, but that seems irrelevant), "perhaps it would be good to do that." He does not want to underestimate the boy but he also suspects it will not be so difficult that he will completely embarrass himself - and he doesn't mind losing in particular. It's just important to prove himself to his new packmates.

If he was looking to gain information that might fall from Aries' lips, he would certainly be disappointed. It was often rare to be able to strike a conversation with the boy in the first place, but when it came to information and secrets, he was like a stone cold rock. He was already slightly wary, but by this stranger's words it seemed he was a newcomer. Aries had reason to be wary, he supposed, and was sure to keep a watchful eye on him. Then again, he did that on all strangers, new wolves to the Woods were not excluded from this. 

The youngster simply gave a slight nod, then perked his ashen ears forward to catch the answer to his proposal of a patrol or a spar. A spar. That perhaps was the cause of the slight glint in his icy eyes - he never passed up the opportunity to improve his fighting ability, and it also meant he could see how strong this male was. "A spar it is, then."

He wasted little time, shifting into a fighting stance and fixating his sharp gaze onto the other's figure. Then the Svartell waited for him to be somewhat ready before leaping forward in an attempt to knock him.

flipped a coin to see if aries would hit: yep! i'm garbage at spars - want to use rolls or coin toss or whatever?

The boy seems to enjoy the idea of a spar and Argent moves into position. Although he gathers a bit of age separates them, the boy is large and healthy. He will not underestimate him - of course, he has never actually sparred before. Not that he thinks that will make a difference. (Eventually this latent arrogance will be his undoing.)

Argent is slightly slower than the other and does not move in time to avoid the other's form knocking into him, sending him off balance. He stumbles, just barely managing to keep himself from falling over completely, his normally calm movements undercut by an urgency to close his sides from open attack, feeling adrenaline course through his limbs. With a grunt he seeks to return the favor, launching toward the boy with intent to barrel into him.