Boartusk Heights Corpus Craggus

The mountains here in BC have segments that look serrated, and they're almost impossible to climb. They're the inspiration for this area. Here is an example. They're caused by rock-slides most of the time.

The night fell quickly over the mountainside thanks to the blanket of winter that had come to the wilds; the cold didn't bother him at all, but by the time Tulimaq felt like leaving the area he knew he couldn't quite hack it. The trees were too dense and it had grown black as pitch by the time he'd tried to mosey back the way he'd come. He'd be spending the night on the mountain, apparently. There were worse places.

He couldn't see the sky for all the trees, but there was a bite to the air. As he marched and hunted for a place to hide away until the morning, he felt the first rush of a howling wind; the current of air pulsed through the forest and eddied pine needles, and he ducked against it until it eased. The air felt heavy. Tulimaq crept through the forest until he spied a small gap in the canopy over his head but even squinting up at that, he couldn't tell if the sky was clear and black or hidden from him.

Eventually the man gave up his search for a safe place. The hills took too much work to climb and with the darkness and the cold, Tulimaq was risking too much. So he settled by an abutment of exposed stone; had it been daylight he would've seen the thick moss growing across it like a diorama built in homage to the mountain he climbed: dark green bands representing an alpine layer, an exposed bald head for the rest of the mountain.

The beast pirouetted on the spot a few times but couldn't get comfortable with his hip wedged against stone, so he tried again, and again, but eventually gave up. If he was going to sleep then it would be from sheer exhaustion.

nighttime had fallen and draped the earth in a dark layer that folded across it without apology. without the sun, the world was left with a chilling winter wind that broke through the safety of the treeline and cut against the flesh. to keep himself from it, the wildcat's coat had stood rigidly along his rangy frame. tusk had hunkered himself downward and prowled forward with perfect intent until he had found a place where the cool touch of the wind did not touch him the way it had before. it was there that he paused in his trek to search the landscape with a cold yellow stare down the length of his dark muzzle.

tusk could taste the scent of another being carried on the air. he thought the territory to be a suitable one for searchers who planned on claiming land; it was wild and savage, just as it should have been. the wildcat made wolf scanned the nearby area with a thoughtful frown before he latched his sights to the form of a stranger's lean-muscled back. the other figure moved away from him and so tusk followed without second guessing his intentions.

it was not until the other beast attempted to make a home for himself between a stone and a difficult wedge. the savage hunter watched for a moment before he had grown bored. it was then that the rangy figure moved closer to the stranger and released a chuff to announce his presence. others were decidedly difficult when it came to a silent approach, and tusk was not interested in finding himself snapped at by some fool who had only sought to hunker down for the night. with the chilling air touching his frame once more, the wild-furred cur approached on a careful prowl.

It was one of those nights where his body was weary from activity, but his mind was alert. They did not happen often; Tulimaq was not a heavy sleeper but he rarely had issues with the event, and right now he needed a few hours of shut-eye but it just wasn't happening. He was restless. His mind played back the various moments in his travels that led him here - training Merrit; talking to the overbearing giant by the river; meeting and exchanging information with a stranger; the dark woods with the ornery youth, and beyond that there was the forest with its quick-to-rise horde.

None of these places had suited him. None held many warriors - ah, and here his mind went back to the Hollow and the guardian there, one of the rare moments where Tulimaq could test his mettle; he thinks of the red-coated woman as well, and wonders how she fares. If perhaps, he will find her some day and he can get back to work as a tutor.

Many events brought him this far, and yet here he was, alone in the dark. Frustration had plagued him since he came upon the central valley. Frustration and the zeal to do better. He knew wolves to be strong, independent, and wild things, and yet Tulimaq had not encountered many of them here. In this place calm prevailed. Nobody yearned for more than the status-quo, and this irked him greatly.

The beast was lost in thought; they were many thoughts, flickering from point to point, a conflagration of intellect he had not shown to the creatures of the wilds. His thoughts were broken by the sound of a call in the dark, and he pushed through the muddying mess within his mind and looked around with sharp, but tired, eyes.

A figure moved towards him; in the dark Tulimaq couldn't make out where they started or ended, and he got to his feet with a swift lurch, just in case they meant him ill.

the wildcat was met with weary eyes that latched to him with a tenacity that was not known by strangers. for a moment, tusk imagined that he had found his way back to the wolves of schugkill. when the wind reminded him of his place, he felt his interest rise to the peak. expressionless and savage in his approach, the cur closed much of the space between their two bodies in great prowling strides. the length of his frame rippled with muscle and intent until it did not, and he had pulled his pace back to a stop. it was there that the dull yellow of his eyes shot to the features of the stranger; he gathered what he could on sight alone, but found that it did not provide him with much.

another step closer, and tusk could almost scent the agouti brute. his nostrils flared to pull in the aroma that the unknown figure produced. when he exhaled, it was to release a great cloud that drifted away from him and disappeared into a grey sky.

“not a good place to sleep,” the wildcat spoke with a motion toward where the other male had been attempting to nestle down for the night. surely, he should have known that. his tone was gruff and seemed to carry the tone of an earthly growl behind it. when he spoke, it fell from his lips without hitching or breaking in any way. the words that were spoken were done so with absolute certainty, as though he had thought about them for years before uttering them. it was his way – he acted without second guessing, and he had prevailed.

The wolf had an inkling that he wouldn't encounter many beasts upon these dangerous slopes, and yet there was a stranger striding towards him. Tulimaq had not noticed any layering scents as he'd roamed. It was most likely a rogue that had crossed his path and he sized him up with a scrutinizing gaze; although he remained neutral in posture and shrewd in expression, Tulimaq couldn't help but be mildly impressed by the stranger. This place was not as hospitable as others from what Tulimaq had discovered, it was dangerous and it was wild, which made any venture up the mountain a struggle. Yet the two wolves were crossing paths as if it were commonplace.

Whatever positive view Tulimaq had of the stranger was vague at best and would take some time to take root, and it didn't help when their voice crooned over the exposed stones of the hillside. It seemed as if Tulimaq wasn't going to get any sleep at all tonight. His brow furrowed slightly as his passive expression became more of a frown, although whether the stranger could see it in the dark was anyone's guess. The boar-like man snorted derisively and decided not to entertain the comment with a reply, although one could argue a lack of response - and that dissipating cloud of breath - was the equivalent.

Not so good for hunting either, Tulimaq finally said. He hadn't tried to hunt upon the mountain but the stranger didn't know that. A part of him wanted to keep this wild gem to himself. Perhaps he could dissuade the stranger from spending his time here, but that brought up a different thought - why would he bother? Tulimaq held no land to his name, and there was no reason to fixate on a mountainside in the middle of nowhere.

the wildcat was met with a snort, and he could not help but to allow the dark line of his lips curl upward into a ghostly smile. it lingered there for a heartbeat before vanishing and returning his expression to that of a surly savage sort. one ear splayed to the side while leaving the other to remain cupped forward. after a few moments, the stranger remarked that the territory was not kind to hunters in the same regard that it did not look fondly on those attempting to find a peaceful sleep. tusk furrowed his brow over his lightless yellow gaze and latched them to the expression of the mountaineer. if he had been capable enough to have made it where they stood, surely he should have known that the alpine area had offered the promising scent of boar.

“hogs seem to like it,” tusk returned sharply. his tone remained evenly placed and confident in the lingering portions of it. after his comment, the wildcat turned his head to where he had last scented them and motioned with a short bobbing of his muzzle. the image of him cut a figure that closely resembled the razorback just before he turned his crown back to the stranger. there, he held himself against the cut of the chilling wind and cast the mountaineer a questioning glance from beneath furrowed brows. “wouldn't be a bad claim, if there were a capable few,” tusk then stated, waiting to see what the other would say.

the two seemed capable enough in spite of their nonchalance about having crossed paths against such an unspoiled background. it was as though the heights had been crafted only for those who were savage enough to venture onto it; the rest could only marvel from below. it was as it should have been – built wild for the beasts of the earth.

He wasn't sure what to make of this creature. They were healthy enough, which indicated they might not have lived alone for long, and that made Tulimaq suspicious. They were either very good at caring for themselves (with very few bad days), or they had dispersed from another pack in the area. Maybe they weren't even travelling alone. He didn't feel inclined to investigate further despite the narrow gap between the two of them; Tulimaq just wanted to rest, but with the presence of another wolf nearby (and one he didn't know at all) he was forced to play defense.

Their idle banter caught him off guard - specifically the comment about a claim. It made the man's hackles spike like the mountain's namesake boars. Tulimaq subconsciously shifted his posture and looked a touch more intimidating as a result, as if reacting to the words and using his body to say, it's already mine. Whether he wanted to lead a pack or not, it seemed as though Tulimaq had made a decision that even he wasn't aware of.

Not around here, he countered, less to dissuade this time. He was speaking plainly, and his voice held a bitter tone. I've been roaming for days out of the east, and the further I go from this mountain the more passive the beasts. I'd hesitate to even call them beasts, with that he smirks, flashing his front teeth as his lip curls, but afterwards Tulimaq relaxes somewhat. Maybe he just needed to vent about how shitty these wilds had become to him. No wonder the wolves of Tartok had given up - there was a limit to the potential, and it would take too much work to bring the ferality back to the wolves that lived here. It wasn't worth it.

the wildcat did not miss the spiking of the stranger's hackles, or the sharp glean in his eyes. though the defensive reaction was caused, it did nothing to rile any sort of response out of the cur. he remained as it had been upon approach, interested but decidedly feral in his stance. his frame was positioned to keep himself defended well, with his head hung low to hide the tender portions of his throat and underside. while he had kept his frame in an ideal position out of habit, the rest of him seemed relatively lax. the muscles beneath his rangy figure – while prominent – were not taught in any way. it was as though the cur knew that the wild things could only be found in wild terrain, and he had sought them with this image in mind.

tusk curled his lip over a single canine at the remark that was passed toward him. the wolves of the area were not ideal; that was a shame. though it had not been intended to turn him away, there was a kindling in his gut that told him things would look better after he had placed miles beneath his limbs. then, he thought of thorn and quill and how they had ventured together to the new land. there was a chance that they would have found a calling of their own there, somewhere. there were miles and miles of land to cover – not all of them could possibly lack the capability that tusk sought. after all, he was speaking with the only other soul on the side of the jagged mountain. capable bodies had to have found their way there at some point.

“shame,” he said in a voice that hardly sounded as though he were disappointed by the news. “i'm sure able bodies will find themselves where they are needed, in time.” it was how things were sorted, he figured. the wildest portions of the world were intended only for those with spirits just as savage. if the mountain was intended to remain empty, save for the rare passerby, it would. tusk was not a man of faith, but he had a simplistic view on the rest of the world. it certainly wasn't worth his energy to gripe about the state of others.

The real question was — did he really need those bodies? Was this an inevitability, pairing Tulimaq and the mountain? He had never been urged to take control by Tartok, always the underling (but a warrior all the same). He had come to these wilds to seek a name, not to correct the flaws he found along the way, but he was here and he was capable so, why not? Why not linger here, out of reach of the unworthy, and build himself an empire?

He was getting ahead of himself; all Tulimaq had right now was an unruly mountain that even he didn't want to waste time upon. There were no wolves in the surrounding valleys that were worthy of this terrible place. But to tame it — to master something as volatile as this mountain, with its oddities and its dangers, that did intrigue him. It wasn't so different from his original purpose, he mused. He had come for a name — and would the wolves here stop him? Would this mountain? He was greater than both of them, and he knew it. Tartok had birthed him and Tulimaq knew no limits.

Strangely, Tulimaq felt emboldened by this casual conversation. His thoughts were fleeting and swift, but when the stranger's words found his ears he felt a calm descend across him. The stranger was right; if there were able bodies, truly able bodies, Tulimaq would find them. That brought another thought - and a question - to mind: You seem able, he offered with a raise of his brow, finally studying the stranger's physique and demeanor. They didn't seem bothered by the harrowing cliffs, narrow paths, or dying trees. Where did you come from? For he was quite unlike the weak-willed beasts Tulimaq had found so far.

able and confident of it, he should have retorted, but the wildcat held his tongue against the inside of his teeth like a well-behaved brute. the other was not wrong in his speculation, though. while it hadn't needed to be said, it was good and well to have the understanding. tusk was more than able; he was fit and savage in his making, which had turned him into a force to be reckoned with. still, the razorback lacked much of the drive and persistence that was required of a good conqueror. it was very much the reason why he had not ransacked the nearest packs and left them to die. until that point, he was nothing more than a wandering cur and a wild thing at heart.

“far enough from here,” he answered with a thoughtful frown. the savage then turned his crown back the way he had traveled with a strange glint in his gaze. the dim yellow of his eyes lingered there – remembering – before he returned them to the man with the inquiries. “a place called schugkill.” it wasn't likely that the man would know anything of tusk's home, which was why he offered the name as freely as he did. more than that, he did not feel as though there was a need for hidden information. lies did little good to him out there on his own, and his mind was occupied with far more important things than to keep up with the appearances he might have created with casual strangers.

“what of you? where does the great mountaineer hail from?”

Schugkill — it didn't sound familiar in any way, but Tulimaq had not traveled too far from his birthplace. He wished he had one of the more veteran wolves of Tartok with him, someone who might know about the world outside of this region, but he was at a loss. All the same, if this place had produced a wild creature like this raggedy man, Tulimaq knew he would be at home there himself if he ever crossed through it.

Being called a great mountaineer made him smirk; the shift in his expression was swift and caught in his gaze with mild amusement, and then he said, Far in the north. My people colonized the barren wastes and have been spreading out ever since; they're called Tartok. The pride in his voice is unmistakable but, as he speaks of them, thinks of them, the lustre in his expression fades a little. He misses home.

You can stay, he decrees in the next moment — but, realizing that may not be the desire of the stranger he adds in haste, if you think you can handle the mountain.

the wolves of tartok were not familiar to him in the same way that schugkill was not familiar to the mountaineer. this was, perhaps, an ideal thing to hear from someone so far away. the wildcat could not have imagined how he would have responded if the stranger had admitted to knowing of his home. it seemed that when he spoke of where he hailed, though, that the pride suggested some knowledge should have been had on tusk's part. all he knew was that their shared moment was the first he'd heard of the tartok wolves; he would not forget the name from that moment on. it was sealed to him, just as his interaction with the mountain wolf was. there was a strange sort of kinship that was felt between himself and those who also belonged to the wilds. he wondered if that was the reason that the offer was extended to him, or if it had been out of something other than shared savagery.

“i will likely remain, as it seems this is the only place where i'm suited,” tusk returned with a small smile and a slight dipping of his muzzle. then, realizing that he had not shared a moniker with the other wolf, the wildcat wondered if it was best to leave it that way or to offer the other male something with which to address him. if they should spend their time on the mountain together again, it would have been easier. “you can call me tusk.” and that was that.

It occurred to him afterwards that the invitation might've come out of the blue; they had been discussing things as men rather than as beasts - and yet, found some common ground. Tulimaq usually learned more from a fight than from a conversation; however, events unfolded favorably in his mind, leading him to a recruit. That was good enough for him.

Tulimaq, he responded, dipping his snout as a means of greeting despite having spent some time with the man already — then his posture returned to its prideful dominance, albeit with a smile. Come, let me show you what I've found so far — for he had climbed most of the hillside by now, and finally had someone to show off to.