Ocean's Breath Plateau until his feet bleed and

wintersbane never cared much for the coast. more specifically beaches. the sea holds no real draw to him and sand is like a parasite that takes at least a week to fully wash his coat of. he's vain enough to mind the grating little particles and the sticky feeling he's left with as he departs any territory that is close enough to the sea to be slapped in the face with the salty brine that constantly wafts of of it. he's built for tundras and harsh mountains ...and those are the territories he naturally gravitates to. still, he's free of time constraints, free of having to answer to anyone and he takes liberties with his explorations. even if that means exploring territories he would, otherwise, steer clear of.

the plateau, however, isn't too bad. the salty sting of sea brine does whip through his fur like the ungentle draw of a child's fingers through the fur of his frosted silvery-blue mane being too rough with the petting action. the height of the plateau buffers the worst of it and the view ...well, he can't exactly deny that the view of the vast ocean and the territories nearby is breathtaking; yet when he descends into the shelter the plateau offers: tall grasses and stout conifers and shrubs it further filters the air. he can still taste salt on the air, of course. it's an unpleasant thing that lingers on all territories upon the coast but stronger than that the tundrian can scent that this territory does not lack on food sources and considers lingering and exploring it further for a few days as opposed to the simple day trip he'd originally planned upon.

Speedy had risked a venture into the ocean, ignoring her fears of its terrifying vastness. Her risk had unexpectedly pad off, though, because she had actualy been successful in catching a fish. She clasped the fish between her jaws tightly as she made her way from the sandy beach to the soft grass of the plateau. 

She enjoyed being on the coast, the smell of the sea air always drawing her for a visit every time she wandered close enough to pick up even the slightest hint of brine. She didn't, however, enjoy lying in the sand to eat, especially with wet fur. She already couldn't stand the feeling of her coat being wet, so adding sand to the mix sounded very uncomfortable. She knew the plateau was close, so when she had walked from the water dripping and with a fish between her teeth, she knew exactly where she wanted to enjoy her meal. 

The wind direction didn't seem to be in her favor today, because she was surprised to find that the area already held another visitor. Not that she ever minded meeting new wolves, that was actually her favorite way to spend her time, she just didn't like to be surprised nor to surprise a stranger. At this point, she was sure he had to be aware of her presence, so she dropped the fish from her mouth to offer him a friendly smile and added in a tail wag for good measure. Sorry for the intrusion, she added softly. The territory wasn't claimed or anything, but she hadn't exactly announced herself before coming close enough to be noticed. Also, not super smart when you were a lone wanderer. How many times must she repeat this mistake before she remembered to be better aware of her surroundings?

wintersbane supposed if he had little other choice — though thankfully he does not — he could live on the coast. the sand is like an annoying parasite that refuses to go away ...even in the shelter of the conifers and shrubs the tundrian notes that he sees a dusting of sand here and there as his gaze lowers to inspect the forest floor for a brief moment. that was the beauty of not claiming loyalty to anyone or anything: he had the unique freedom to pick and choose where he wanted to go ...and when. he's not a beast that tolerates being fettered. the chains will be broken, sooner or later as wintersbane decides upon a course of action that largely benefits him, leaving anger and sorrow in his wake. he wants freedom with all the benefits of belonging to a pack, he does not want to be controlled nor have to answer to anyone but he knows that he is not responsible enough to wield the power of an alpha. he hungers for that unparalleled power and suspects that, that is a fairly good indication that he shouldn't have it. he wants the impossible.

he's broken out of his thoughts, steps pausing as he winds his way casually and leisurely through the forested part of the plateau at the sound of approaching footfalls broken by speech. glacial blue gaze takes his sudden companion in — though she wouldn't have been sudden would he have been focusing on his surroundings and not his own thoughts. she is small, lean and draped in a pelage of brown of varying shades and a creamy-white with markings of black and golden yellow eyes. she's dropped the fish she'd carried in her mouth at her paws and wintersbane's lip curls ever-so-slighly at the stench that lasts for only a few seconds. he abruptly corrects himself that he detests the coast and the stinky animals that live upon it and within the sea. ...so perhaps living on the coast wasn't an option at all.

"it's neutral territory." the tundrian speaks in response to her apology with a lofty shrug of his shoulders to show that he's not perturbed by her sudden appearance. even if he was, there wasn't anything he could do about it regardless.

Fish forgotten on the ground, Speedy trotted closer to the shadow-faced male. Offering him a friendly smile, she said, I'm Speedy. Her lustrous yellow gaze met his polar  blue one. The color of his eyes was especially striking against the black fur that cloaked his face and crown. She had met many wolves during her time as a wanderer, and she was always intrigued by the mysterious ones. This male definitely matched that description.

Headed to the coast? she asked curiously, still wagging her tail a little as she spoke. This close to the beach, he was headed either to or from most likely. She had grown fond of the sea since first discovering its presence here and had made frequent visits when she had the chance. She wasn't crazy about the water, but she liked the view and the scents and the way the breeze moved through her fur.

it's easy to forget the fish as she draws nearer and easier when she offers her name in introduction. speedy. the maned tundrian meets her gaze, glacial blue boring into lustrous yellow. under normal circumstances the meeting of gazes could be mistaken as a challenge but wintersbane has no desire to fight — a far cry from his more hostile and aggressive youth. oh, he still craves the adrenaline, still craves the fight but he's much more smarter about it than he's been known to be in the past. wintersbane finally learned that he's not immortal nor is he invincible. it's a meeting of gazes, simple and non-hostile. nothing more, nothing less. still, instinct causes him to avert his and it rises to glimpse over her head. there is nothing but endless stretch of forest and beyond that beach, he assumes.

"heading away from it, actually." wintersbane admits with a sardonic quirk to his lips, glimpsing back down at her. "i hate the beach." he was born as far from the coast as he possibly could have in the wilds ...a fact which he is undoubtedly grateful for. not that he lived with his biological family for very long, mind. his kidnapping had been the catalyst for the disasters that followed his disappearance for the fearghal family. it's only after a long moment that he realized he'd yet to return her introduction. his weight shifts ever so slightly, ears cupping forth atop his skull before they flutter back to rest at half mast instead. "i'm wintersbane. by the way." he offers her simply.

Nice to meet you, Wintersbane, she answered amiably. A mysterious name to go with a mysterious man. She never put much thought into why she was so drawn to wolves that were so obviously the opposite of her. Maybe she felt the need to spread her light wherever she went, or maybe she saw it as an opportunity to challenge an aloof personality with her warm, affectionate one. Whatever the case, she often found herself in the presence of wolves like Wintersbane, and always tried to find different ways to crack their hard exteriors.

She had yet to meet someone who didn't like the beach, but to each their own. If you don't like the beach, then why did you go there? she asked with a slight tilt of her head. It might not be her place to ask, but she never really held back, especially when she was curious about something. Plus, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable question.

her tone is friendly as she speaks that it's nice to meet him and though he feels the press of social obligation to return the sentiment ( truly he doesn't mean to come off as an unsociable asshole ) the tundrian lets out a low grunt that is meant to communicate 'likewise'. she seems incredibly friendly to him and he has yet to chase her off ...though friends isn't something winterbane's ever been able to accumulate nor hold for very long, it's largely of his own doing. 'roots' are not something he seeks to plant. at least, not yet. he's young and he's wild and though he nears his second year and full maturity he remains a palkkasoturi. one failed attempt at settling down in an environment that hadn't been right for him makes him weary of settling down at all.

her question is a fair one, the tundrian admits to himself. "i wanted to see the view from the top of the plateau." wintersbane replies with a lofty roll of his broad shoulders. he doesn't have to explain himself but in lieu of understanding how his words do not match up with the evidence — windswept fur held in place by the sticky sea brine that clings to his fur, no doubt also giving him the scent of a seawolf. he can feel the seawater and sand cling to him despite that he hadn't actually made it down to the beach itself. "i'm scouting." wintersbane offers simply in explanation.

He certainly was a chatty one, Speedy thought sarcastically. It didn't matter, though; she wasn't deterred by such things. He told her that he came here to look at the ocean, and she was once again confused as to why he would care if he hated the beach, but then he went on to explain he was scouting. So, it seemed she had stumbled upon another scout, although the last one she had met was a bit more friendly. 

Interesting. He didn't smell like any pack wolf she had met, so what was his reason for scouting? Maybe that's just what he called exploring? Either way, she looked at him curiously and asked, Who are you scouting for? She realized the question seemed pretty nosy, so to clarify, she added, I mean, you just don't smell like a pack wolf, so I was just curious about your reasons for scouting. She certainly understood the draw to explore; she had spent most of her time lately doing the same thing and was dreading having to join a pack in the winter for survival, but she never called it scouting. To her, that implied gathering info for someone.

her question, though wintersbane suspects is merely asked to sate her own curiosity does come across as rather prying. it is met with a non-threatening lip curl and a twitch of an ear. the beautiful part of being on his own? he didn't have to answer to anyone. he set and upheld his own laws and he didn't owe anyone anything, which was exactly how the tundrian liked it. "i'm not a pack wolf." he tells her cooly, affirming what she already knows. "why do i have to be scouting for someone else, hm?" he inquires. his tone is light, teasing, but he dislikes the implication that he has to be doing it for someone else and it shows in the hard glint of his eyes. "i work for myself." he's never gotten along well with authority and perhaps there is more of arturo fearghal in him then he would ever ( like to ) admit.

he realizes he's likely being an ass, and there is enough of manners left in him to make him feel a bit guilty about it. "sorry," he apologizes. "i don't mean to sound like an ass." he doesn't apologize with the expectation to be forgiven. she is free to take offense and to walk away from him. he would not blame her. "authority and i don't mix well," he tells her with a sheepish grin and a casual roll of his shoulders. "so, for the time being, i've taken to a mercenary lifestyle." he's got plans but he's a long way from putting them into motion, longer yet from seeing them come to fruition.

for now, wintersbane lives by the simple whatever the hell i want rule of thumb.

Speedy's eyebrows lifted slightly at the curt tone of his answer. It seemed she had maybe struck a nerve, which had not been her intention, But it was something she had grown accustomed to. He was neither the first nor the last to get annoyed by her questions. She was curious and had always just said whatever she wanted, so she had ruffled more than few feathers, but luckily she didn't get offended easily. 

When he apologized for sounding like an ass, she shrugged and answered, You did sound like an ass, her tone deadpan. But, apology accepted, she added with a teasing smile. It would take a lot more than that to upset her. 

He went on to explain that he didn't get along with authority and had taken on the life of a mercenary. She looked at him curiously again. As a mercenary, what are you protecting if you don't have a pack or a claimed territory? she asked at the risk of irritating him further. Oh well, she wasn't in the habit of holding back, so why start now? Plus, she genuinely wanted to know what a lone mercenary did. Did others like hire him to take out wolves on the sly? Was he maybe a vigilante? Teekon Wild's own Batman? Oh, that was good nickname for him, she thought. Her mind continued to come up with potential jobs for a lone mercenary as she waited for his answer.

wintersbane isn't overly surprised to hear it confirmed that he had, indeed, sounded like an ass but he is surprised to find that she doesn't appear to be overly offended by it. "i'm not, nor was i ever, a guardian," the tundrian replies. "i'm a warrior." perhaps there wasn't a whole lot of difference in the inherent trades: both required fighting skills but the truth was there was plenty of difference to stress the distinction. wintersbane thought of guardians as the wolves who were more loyal and devoted than him: they had to have roots as their trade revolved around the protection of the pack itself and it's borders. they were the defense. but the warriors? they could afford to be more loose with their loyalties and their skills could benefit the highest bidder, in the end. they were the offense. they didn't need to plant roots.

"i protect nothing." he tells her in a voice that is almost hushed. he had no land, he had no pack. he'd like to have both of his own someday. he thirsts for the power of calling himself 'alpha' the way a dehydrated man thirsts for water under the searing heat of the desert. but as he'd thought previously and as he is inclined to remind himself: he recognizes that he's not ready for any position of actual leadership. not while he has no experience, not while the thought of planting roots and attempting to settle down so soon after the first failed attempt causes him to balk. "one day," wintersbane begins, pausing to draw his salmon pink tongue across his lips. "i will stake claim to a territory for myself. build my own pack." that was the ultimate goal: the endgame. to build and nurture and nourish a empire pack. for now, he is inclined to focus on more local goals, but that doesn't mean he can't do a little reconnaissance while he bids his time.

having a roughly drafted plan, even if it is premature never hurt, he thinks.

She looked at him inquisitively, studying him with her golden gaze. That seems kind of lonely. Even for a tough guy like yourself, She said softly, tentatively moving closer and sitting down a few feet from the handsome male. She understood having ambitions, but to have absolutely nothing that you feel protective over seemed kind of sad to her, and she was a lone wolf who loved her freedom. Even living without a pack, she had made connections with other wolves, and there were a few she would easily protect if she was able, and she was always willing to help anyone who needed it. She wondered what happened in his past to make him so proudly announce that he had no one he cared about enough to protect. 

Starting a pack seems like a big responsibility. You'd definitely have to be willing to protect your fellow pack members...at least, that's how I feel it should be, she answered with a small shrug. She knew there was a chance her words might irritate him once more, but again, oh well. It would be hard for her to put her loyalty and trust in an alpha who wouldn't protect her or her packmates, and she had feeling she wasn't the only wolf who would feel that way.

lonely. wintersbane chooses to focus upon the word, playing it over in his head as if it might take on a new meaning. was he lonely? he didn't think so. he didn't feel lonely. this vagabond life had been his own for most of the short span of his life so far. it is comfortable. it is freedom and without anything to deeply root him to the spot it seems unlikely he'll give it up anytime soon. he can for roots but they are weak and fragile and easily broken whenever he's felt he's had his fill of it. her lecturing caused a spike of annoyance beneath the tundrian's breath and he does not bother to mask it as he rolls his eyes and lets out a low snort. does he look like an ignorant cub?

"i am no ignorant cub," he voices his thought aloud to her, offering her the reminder in case she forgot. "i fully understand the responsibilities of it," wintersbane huffs. "but who says i will lead it? i'd rather be it's tienraivaaja," the tundrian rolls off of his tongue like a caress. "it's pathfinder. a temporary leader when there is none, an unbiased third party observer when there are leadership challenges. not leadership but not subordinate either." it all sounds a bit far-fetched ( even to his own ears ) but surely it could be done if the right wolves were recruited to it. or maybe it was all a distance fantasy. no doubt she'll have words to offer him about it as she offers all of her other unbridled opinions. wintersbane appreciates candor but she is, perhaps, far too brazenly opinionated for a stranger in his books. "one day is likely a long way off." he finishes on the subject.

"no one will follow a leader that does not care about his or her pack members." he speaks, as if from experience. he feels like he has experience in that vein ( whether it was all how he perceived things or not ) "and no one should have to." duty and loyalty be damned.

His huffy words were not a surprise and she couldn't help the teasing smile that slowly formed on her face. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you were a child, she said with an incline of her head. I was only trying to be helpful, she added with a small shrug. True she had never lead her own pack, but her parents were the beta pair of her natal pack, and they, along with the alphas, ran the pack with compassion and fairness; it set the precedent for how a pack should be run, at least in her eyes. 

Not leadership but not a subordinate seems kind of precarious, she offered with a inquisitive raise of her eyebrow. It seems like a difficult position to hold and like it would be very confusing to the actual subordinates, Speedy added. To her, his goal appeared a little unattainable, but to each their own. He didn't seem like the type to put any merit in the opinions of a stranger, so this was all probably pointless, aside from the fact that it was an interesting conversation. 

At least we agree on something, she replied playfully when he stated that no one would follow a leader that didn't care for them. The teasing smile returned to her face following her words.

she smiles him in a teasing manner that ultimately ends up vexing the tundrian further. he hates being talked down to in any aspect, and intentional or not that was exactly how he'd taken her words. the maned soturi bristles ever-so-slightly; a pin-prickle of annoyance that displays physically at the hackles along his spine. "i've had my fair share of different leaders to know what i look for and what i avoid like the plague." and in all honesty, there wasn't one that had won him over ...obviously, because he still roamed as a lone wolf. he always found himself back in this situation, in the end. ghosting and abandoning the pack to forge his own path, yet never quite able to break past the barrier that keeps him from making the steps necessary to get to that path. it left him frustrated, but ultimately with the consideration that perhaps it's the knowledge that he knows he's not ready to lead. what good is a leader without experience, after all? there's too many high stakes, too many chances that he'll slip and mess up. he wouldn't follow an inexperienced leader who was content to fumble his way through leading a pack, either.

it takes him a slow moment to realize his companion had started to speak once more, and, naturally, she criticizes his idea. it does not come unexpectedly to wintersbane. he'd already deduced she was highly opinionated and would have something to say about it. "maybe it's precarious, maybe it's not. won't know until it's put past the theory stage." he holds onto the belief that if it was tried and then failed ...at least it'd been tried. writing it off as an idealistic fantasy without even trying it was shortsighted, in wintersbane's general opinion.

"imagine that." the tundrian replies coyly, his lips tugging into a slow smirk. "the cat and the canary agreeing." he makes a soft 'huh' noise in his throat to teasingly enunciate the oddity of it given their disposition to disagree with one another despite that they were, essentially, still very much strangers despite that the banter comes easily ( at least, it feels like it comes easy to winterbane anyway ) as if they'd known one another their whole lives instead of a whole ...handful of minutes.

The slight raising of his hackles did not go unnoticed by Speedy, but she wasn't alarmed or surprised. It was not the first time he had bristled at her words, at least figuratively anyway, so to see him actually bristle now did not curb her curiosity even slightly. When he further discussed his leadership/not leadership idea, she shrugged and replied, Alright. I guess that's your trail to blaze. He seemed set on his plan, so who was she to discourage him; even if she thought it was a bad idea. 

His metaphor was...intriguing? Or, alarming maybe? Speedy quirked and eyebrow and said, And I suppose you think I'm the canary in this situation? She was pretty sure she knew the answer to that question. He was the dark mysterious one, and she was the young, somewhat naive girl. She didn't necessarily think him to be the canary either; obviously he would win a fight between them, but she didn't think of herself as the prey either. What she lacked in brute strength, she more than made up for in other areas.

wintersbane is silent for a long moment as she replies about his 'leadership/not-really-leadership' ideas being his trail to blaze. ultimately, yes, it was. one day. and there was always a chance that she was right and that it would never work. he offers a lofty shrug of his broad shoulders and a casual, "someone has to be bold enough to blaze a trail." yeah, the 'standard' worked efficiently and well enough, it was true. but where was the excitement in the same old, same old: pack after pack? eventually, leaders and packs that just went about their day to day with the same hierarchy and biased choosing for leadership all blurred together for the tundrian. none of them stood out from the other. he needed the draw of prospect, the draw of adventure.

she capitalizes upon his casual metaphor, a quirk of her eyebrow following. she takes it far more literally than he meant it, admittedly. the soturi debates on whether he should let her sweat it out for a bit, as she already placed herself into the role as canary. ...or rather she assumes that he meant for her to be the canary. there is a slight cant to his head, a brief swivel of his ears as he fixes her within his glacial gaze. "cats do not always win, you know," wintersbane drawls in a low rasp; not quite a purl something relatively close as he plays along. "they are arrogant creatures, after all. arrogance is costly and canaries have the advantage of being able to fly while the cat will always be grounded in some way or another."

and then the tundrian laughs. a low, chortle that escapes from him because he can't help it and can't hold it in anymore. "i assure you, i didn't mean that to be literal. i only meant that a cat and a canary couldn't be more opposite which is where we appear to fall with opposing opinions." which, admittedly, he thinks, isn't a bad thing. though wintersbane, naturally ( perhaps it is vanity or perhaps it is the fact that he's very much a mulish youth despite that he is almost two years of age ) doesn't like to be wrong, however; he understands that he will not always be right. and though he might be begrudging to admit it he likes the challenge of an opposing opinion no matter how contradicting that may be.

Speedy gave the male a small but genuine small. That they do, she replied with a dip of her head. If she understand anything well, it was being bold enough to do something no one else has done. She had struck out completely on her own as a yearling despite the comfort and safety of her natal pack. It was not something that hadn't been done before by any means, but it took a lot of bravery to leave your well-adjusted family and walk into an unknown future. So, she could respect his decision to blaze a trail and create his own way in life.

Instead of confirming or denying her suspicion, Wintersbane just pointed out that a cat did not always have the advantage over the canary, going on to point out that cats were arrogant and didn't have the ability to fly. His explanation made sense, but Speedy still searched his dark face for any signs that his metaphor was not just meant to be figurative. He hadn't seemed anything more than slightly annoyed with her, but maybe he was done entertaining her questions and wanted to scare her off or something.

She fixed him with a teasing glare, when he began to laugh and she realized he had been messing with her. Relaxing a little she said, We do appear to be quite opposite but that has kept things interesting. That's how she felt about it anyway. She wasn't so sure he felt the same way, but he did laugh, so there was hope. You seem so serious, I wasn't sure you knew how to laugh, she added with a playful smile, always glad to spark laughter in someone, even if at her own expense.

wintersbane's grin turns lopsided as he catches the teasing glare she sends his way. "indeed," he concurs in a quiet murmur. "i like being right as much as the next wolf but the world would be a boring place if everyone was like minded." the mesh of different personalities was interesting for wintersbane. sometimes they meshed well, and other times personalities didn't. he'd say that despite their opposing and vocal differences her personality and his meshed fairly well.

you seem so serious, she tells him. and for a moment he takes time to ponder those words. she offers him a playful smile but he observes them from a ( ha ) serious perspective. he'd never been one to play, even before the whole kidnapping incident had happened. he'd set his eyes on being a warrior with an unparalleled ferocity and all he'd wanted to do was earn it. and, of course, when he'd been taken away from the territory neighboring his birthplace wintersbane's childish naivety, the want to be a child had been ripped out from beneath him. he'd had to mature if he wanted to survive the turmoil that his writer the world had thrown him into. that'd always been his key. survive. survive at all and at every cost ...and more recently added continuing his fallen mother's legacy to the list.

"hm," the tundrian hums thoughtfully. "you're not wrong." he says with a casual, lofty rise and fall of his broad shoulders and a small, ghost of a playful smile.

Speedy agreed. She loved hearing opposing view points on various things and being able to add in her own thoughts. It made for some interesting and eye-opening conversations, as well as making friends with wolves she may not have otherwise had reason to interact with. She kind of liked being right, too, but not quite as much as she liked hearing why others thought differently about something. She grinned and lifted her chin a little before replying, Well, I can assure you that things are never boring when I'm around. She meant the words to be playful, but there was some truth there as well; she didn't like boring, so she always found ways to liven things up. Her most favorite way to do that was to be contrary.

She was glad she had been able to make him laugh, since, from his words, it seemed he didn't do a lot of it. Well, it looks good on you, she said with a dip of her head, a coy smile forming on her face. The laugh she had witnessed had only accentuated his already striking features, and she thought it was a shame he didn't do it more often.

a snort noise of amusement leaves the tundrian's throat as she mentions that it was never boring when she was around. "oh, i believe it." he assures her with a coy smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. if just for the fact that her ability to be vocal on her opinions alone. "yeah well," he draws in a deep breath, his chest rising ever-so-slightly with the action, ears slicking back to rest at half mast before he lets it out in a slow breath, shoulders. for a moment he considers saying something along the lines of life hasn't given me a whole lot to laugh about but that is a heavy subject and sounds too morbid for the light atmosphere that surrounds them now. "thanks." he accepts the compliment gruffly, surprisingly humble about it.

She watched his face as the compliment settled on him. She couldn't be sure, but with his slight pause and deep breath between his two short statements, it seemed like there was maybe more there, but she was never one to push. If someone wanted to talk about something, she wanted it to be their choice and not because they felt obligated to answer a prying question. So, she wagged the black tip of her tail a little and and nodded in response. 


I have a question, she said after a minute, moving her gaze from his dark face in a brief moment of shyness. Would you want to play a game? she asked, looking at him again, a warm smile on her face. She wasn't sure he would even agree, but she asked anyway because that was Speedy.

if wintersbane's pause draws her curiosity she does not pry and for that the tundrian is undoubtedly grateful. he doesn't particularly want to talk about his past ...not when his future deserves his energy and focus. he cannot reverse time and change what has happened, but he can control the course of his future. "ok," the tundrian accepts in response, his glacial gaze studying her face carefully, if not a bit wearily as she starts off with 'i have a question'. his weariness in his response created simply by the sudden shyness that appears to have overtaken her as she looks away, making him wonder the nature of her inquiry. admittedly, this only makes him more curious than it does anything else. the actual question itself comes as a slight surprise and he's a bit taken aback by it. whatever he was expecting, if anything at all, it hadn't been an invitation to play a game. "what kind of game did you have in mind?" he asks, unable to shake the slight weariness he's originally felt completely.

Her warm smile turned into a grin when he inquired about what kind of game she wanted to play. It wasn't necessarily a yes, but it wasn't a no either. It's nothing too crazy, she started, the tip of her tail wagging slightly as she spoke. One of us hides, and the other tries to find them, she explained. It wasn't just a game; it was also a way to practice tracking, and Speedy loved finding new participants to play with her; she always learned something new. You can even choose who gets to hide first, she added as she got to her feet. When she was done laying out all the details for him, she searched his face for any insight on his thoughts as she waited to see whether or not he would agree. She, of course, wouldn't be offended if he said no; not everyone enjoyed playing games, and so far, he seemed like a very serious wolf. So, even if she would be secretly a little disappointed, she would definitely understand.

piilosta. she wants to play hide and seek? he lets out a low chortle of a laugh that rumbles within the confines of his chest. not in a mocking manner, just a laugh and mostly at himself because he'd thought up a good comeback for it. "if you wanted to be rid of me all you had to do was say so." he teases her, hoping that the mirthful glint in his gaze and the playful smirk assures her that he's joking and that he knows she's not trying to get rid of him. weren't they a little old to be playing games? but, in truth, he was overly rusty when it came to games and piilosta was a game that he imagined cubs would enjoying playing immensely. his recently discovered soft spot for the young could mark this as an educational game. remind him of how it was done, while unknowingly thinking in a similar vein as she: it might be a useful way to help teach them how to track.

"alright." he agrees and glimpses around them with a slight puff of silver-blue maned chest, glacial eyes squinting for a moment as he contemplates. "you hide first." he decides, his gaze flickering back to her. "count to ten?" he inquires as he closes his eye at her, peeking one open for a brief moment as he waits for her confirmation. when wintersbane receives either confirmation or correction he closes his eyes.