But Ptarmigan knew no such thing. The Endore female only knew that she was on the edge of some pack's territory, walking brazenly along their border. She had met wolves from this pack, it was true, but she hadn't really spared their allegiances much thought. Even if one of those wolves emerged from within the territory, she likely wouldn't regret her actions. Few things afforded Ptarmigan more amusement when she was between families than pissing off pack wolves did.
So when she bounded down the mountain at top speed and nearly barreled right into Ptarmigan, her adventuring partner from a while ago, she almost didn’t stop in time. Still, friend or not, the black-furred she-wolf was trespassing, and trespassers were to be dealt with the same way, no matter who they were.
Red crouched into a fighting stance, growling at the female. Her warning was obvious: “Get back, or I will move you myself.”
She was broken out of her thoughts when a red-furred wolf descended from the pack's interior. Spurred by years of skirting pack lands, Ptarmigan hastily sidestepped away from the border proper, though she stayed in close vicinity. It wasn't until her hybrid friend drew nearer that she was recognized and greeted with a jovial wave of Ptarmigan's tail.
Something was different, though. Where Red had been so amiable before, even inviting the Endore to join her at the lake in the centre of the aspen forest, she was now stand-offish. It was almost as though Ptarmigan was doing something wrong (she was). “Chill,” she said as soothingly as she could, but it still came out sounding judgemental, even though judgement wasn't aimed at Red at all. “I'm not hurting anyone.”
Red watched with some innate sense of satisfaction as Ptarmigan stepped away from the borderline, though it made her edgy when the she-wolf insisted on remaining extremely close by. The other’s words about chilling, and that she wasn’t hurting anyone didn’t mean much to Red. She was still trespassing. Well, she had been, at least. As long as the black wolf didn’t take another step forward, there was really nothing her lesser-bred cousin could do about it. Well, there was, but what was the point of getting into a fight with a wolf who was so obviously non-threatening? So, instead of worrying and snarling at her for no reason like an idiot, she decided to at least see what her pseudo-friend wanted.
Red decided to make herself comfortable first, and took a bit of time to find a sitting position that wouldn’t make her lean awkwardly forward on the uneven terrain. Then she turned her attention to Ptarmigan once again. Her ears went forward, her eyes widened a bit, and she gave a light chuff. which were all signals that meant, What are you doing here? What do you want?
To be perfectly honest, Red might not have been nearly as uptight had the Sunspire pack not had a recent run-in with Fox and a few of her wolves. But, of course, Ptarmigan didn’t know that, and it wasn’t the coywolf’s place to tell her. That was the Sunspire’s business. So, wordlessly — as usual — Red waited for the Endore’s response.
“I'm just wandering,” she responded to the Sunspire subordinate's unspoken question. It certainly didn't answer what she was doing lingering so dangerously close to a pack's borders, but that in and of itself was apparent. She was being a pain in the ass, plain and simple. She had been born a pain in the ass and her whole youth had been a pain in the ass, first for her parents and then for herself. She had had more than a few pains in her ass, and a few other places, if she was to acknowledge her single litter of (probably dead) children. It was time for her to be the pain again.
Wandering… The word made Red smile despite herself. So Ptarmigan was a wolf after her own heart. They were both wanderers. This made Red wonder why her friend was wandering in the first place. Sometimes those who wandered were looking for something. Sometimes they wandered simply to do it. Either way, the coywolf was curious. She herself was a wanderer by blood. Being half-Coyote meant being half-nomadic. Coyotes never truly settled in one place if they didn’t have to. Oftentimes they were constantly on the move, going from one place to the next, settling down only due to illness, starvation, or because there were pups in the family that were too young to wander yet.
So Red knew this urge well. It was why she made such a good Outrider. She could never stay in the Sunspire for long without feeling that familiar itch. Though recently, her wanderings had led her more and more to the same place: Emberwood. She wondered where she would wander to when she had her pack there. Her pack… That dream was still aways away. A pack… Perhaps that was what Ptarmigan wanted? A pack? Red had never smelled other wolves on her pelt, so she must have been a loner.
Taking a breath to steady herself — for she was about to speak — Red asked, Looking for a pack? We have room here.
Here she stood now, just as much a coward as she had been that day, though in different ways. She, like many of her species, had a strong aversion to allowing harm to come to her. Conflict avoidance was branded in their blood as a species, for it allowed the stability of a pack and the success of a hunting party. Despite her constant trouble seeking on the borders of other packs, she never stuck around when things got heated. Even if she was a pack member, it was unlikely she would throw herself into a pack's conflict without a good reason to do it.
She preened her ears forward when Red suddenly spoke. “So you do have a voice,” she said, awed that the other could exist in silence without feeling alienated. Then again, Magpie must have had the same philosophy, for Ptarmigan clearly remembered being told the yearling didn't speak to those who weren't worth it. “No, not yet, friend. I have more miles to cover. But soon I will seek one. Maybe then, it will be yours I seek.”
”So you do have a voice,” Ptarmigan said, and Red smiled. She knew she did not speak very often, and that that might cause others to have some confusion about why. There a pause after this, one which the coywolf did not break with more words, or even body language. It looked like her friend was thinking, and she wouldn’t be the one to interrupt her. Then the black she-wolf finally told her that she was not, in fact, looking for a pack. At least not yet. Red allowed a small smile to grace her lips once more when her friend suggested that perhaps they would be of the same pack in the distant future. The coywolf liked that idea.
After this one-sided conversation was exchanged, Red was content to sit and feel the breeze and say nothing. As previously established, Ptarmigan presented no threat, and so Red need not have worried. However, she could not in good conscience leave the border unprotected while there was another wolf so close-by. And because she didn’t speak, the two were going to be left in a lull, unless the Endore had anything more to say. Either way, Red didn’t mind. She had gotten used to her own silence, and the silence of others. She had also gotten used to those who wished to talk because the silence made them uncomfortable. It was not the coywolf’s place to tell someone else not to speak — nor would she want to tell them this. If they wanted to talk, then so be it, as long as they didn’t drag Red into it.
Should the coywolf make a move toward her, or depart, then Ptarmigan would leave the borders of the Sunspire. Her trouble making could wait until another time when she wasn't toying with the possibility of losing a friend in the midst of her ridiculousness.
Had Red been able to hear Ptarmigan’s thoughts, she would have corrected the wolf. She was not, in fact, bothering the hybrid at all. It was hot today, and as long as her friend was here, Red could not simply walk away from the border. But she didn’t care, as it gave her an excuse to relax a little. As long as the she-wolf stayed exactly as far away from the border as she was in that moment, there was nothing to care about. She wasn’t one Fox’s dogs and she wasn’t being hostile. So Red did the only logical thing: she laid down across from her.
This reminded the coywolf of their adventure together in Emberwood. That had been fun. Red allowed her tongue to loll out of her mouth and pant to keep her temperature down on this hot summer day. She longed for the lake at the aspen forest. As she let her mind wander, she scratched aimlessly at an itch on her side and sneezed as dust entered her nose. Other than that, nothing much happened. Mainly, she was just waiting for the other to make her leave, but didn’t really care enough to actually tell her to get lost.
“Welp,” she yawned as last, standing and stretching exaggeratedly to give Red ample time to say something if she wished to, “best be hittin' the road. Watch yourself, packs can be dirty.” Though the specifics of Ptarmigan's reference to her forced dispersal in her youth were hazy due to omission of said past, it was one of the better pieces of advice she had ever given. If nothing else, the Endore could speak for watching one's back in a pack, even one composed of family. With that last warning, she turned and began to lope away, thankfully not in the direction of Swiftcurrent Creek.
Red watched her friend leave, wondering what her warning might meant. Of course, she was having trouble. With Ferdie, specifically. She shook her head. She needed to get back to patrolling. She stayed long enough to watch Ptarmigan walk out of sight and then continued on her way. She wondered if she’d ever see the Endore again. Ptarmigan seemed like someone who didn’t really keep friends, probably because she forgot about you after meeting you. Of course, Red was just speculating. She had no idea how her black-furred friend thought.
No matter. If they met later on, then they met later on. If not, then oh well. Red had plenty of other things to worry about. With a last glance behind her, she began climbing the Sunspire once more.