We go where no one goes

Jinx had roused the pale tawny Iota at the break of dawn and taken him from the mountain to the Spine. It would be the older male's first glimpse of Ouroboros Spine, their soon-to-be home. Itsuki had come without complaint, following her dutifully through the deep Neverwinter Forest and scaling the short mountains of the Spine without complaint. Though she couldn't place it, something about the male intrigued her, perhaps because of their subtle similarities.

“What is it you aspire to?” Jinx asked, tossing her head back over her shoulder to ensure the grey-saddled male was still following. He was there, meeting her gaze for one moment with a glint of pine green, but then dropping it when her hackles prickled uncertainly. Itsuki knew his place, that much Jinx was certain of. He seemed to come from a culture that was different, but instinct spoke to him as strongly as it did herself.

Tranquility washed over Itsuki as they delved into a forest that smelled and felt as old as time itself. The trees were larger than any he had ever seen, the understory developed into an incredible tangle of herbs, short shrubs, and grass alike. It was a maze of fallen trees and new ones: spruce, fir, lodgepole pine, and the impressive ponderosa pines standing above all the others. It was magnificent, and he knew he wanted to pay homage to the kami here and make it known he would honour them always.

But, presently, he was accompanying the Alpha female on one of her final marking expeditions. The sun burned high in the sky, hot and heavy, but they felt none of its effects as deep in the woods as they were. It was soothing, like slipping into the cool embrace of a river without worrying about being wet.

His ears swivelled forward when she spoke to him, and he met her gaze reverently for only a moment before glancing down at the ground. “I am unsure,” he admitted, his tail swaying behind him as he fell in behind her, “but I have always been a keeper of stories. Perhaps I could keep our history as a story.” Itsuki had other talents and aspirations, namely being a swift hunter, but all wolves could hunt. He didn't think that broadcasting it was terribly necessary.

As she waited for Itsuki's answer, she lowered her nose to the soil and inhaled deeply. The scent of deer and marten entered her nose, triggering the light closing of her eyes as her stomach rumbled with hunger. She was about to turn around and suggest they rustle up some breakfast when Itsuki answered, quietly and eloquently as always.

A keeper of stories, thought the Alpha. Though she had always thought the finer trades, including Chronicler, were somewhat useless, she supposed there was some value in having a record of their history. The brawny Kesuk wasn't the fondest of having them in story form, though, for it would muddle the truth of events... Not to mention she would find it difficult to remember the stories.

“Maybe just as is,” she suggested gruffly, rolling her shoulders and indicating with her forward march that he should continue to follow. He did. “There are deer in these woods. We should catch one.” As if on cue, the pair emerged into a clearing in which stood three does and one half-grown fawn. A buck was nowhere to be seen.

His penchant for stories was gracelessly shot down, but Itsuki didn't mind. Aside from a brief twinge of regret that this wolf couldn't appreciate the creativity of stories, the Keizo didn't take it personally. It was all up to a particular wolf to define their own tastes, and already he had the sense that Jinx was all about business. Nonsense seemed to be an entity all its own to her, and one she was unfriendly with to boot.

She paused, and Itsuki drew up just short of bumping into her rear. He craned his head to look around her, but the Alpha had already explained the reason for stopping abruptly and was already walking away again. He quickly followed on willowy legs, silently agreeing with her decision to hunt. They needed to christen this new land, and the only way to do it was in blood. It was the way of the wolf.

Itsuki, of course, had certain beliefs to go with death, but his Shintoism was suspended when it came to prey. Prey were mindless to him, and so long as he was thankful for the animal's sacrifice, its kami would not hold a grudge.

They found a few gathered deer in short order. He came to stand alongside his Alpha now, though his head hung lower than hers. No doubt she was looking for the strongest of the herd to ensure they would be in no serious danger, which left Itsuki to pinpoint the weakest, which he did quickly. One of the does seemed to have a slight limp and favoured her left hind leg over her right one, something he only noticed when she took a hobbled step forward to graze on newer grass.

“That one,” he quietly decided, looking back to the Alpha for his orders.