Permafrost Hollows can change you, no

The Vartija: Border Marking

 

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Derg trotted to the borders, he decided just beyond the base of the mountain would be a good place to start and suspected he'd find some guide posed by Wintersbane. He'd been exploring the peak for a short time now, learning the terrain that would serve as home. Learning of any issues that might pose a threat, but found none. He picked his way through the ice, wary of his steps, until he was at the border.

He quickly set to work, laying border markings in neat intervals, often taking time to peer beyond and ensure the location was safe. The last thing they wanted was to have their pack on the edge of a cougar den. He worked around the border, often searching for a marker by the tundrian to guide his path.

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140 words

The wolf roamed with as much vigor as a bear having woken up from its hibernation too early. There was no reason for her choice in paths, but her strides remained powerful, purposeful. A few hours ago she had caught the scent of tuktu — elk — but somewhere along the way she'd lost it again. The snow was growing deeper hour to hour as well, which did not hamper her efforts as much as one might expect; wolves were designed for this, after all. Regardless of her natural affinity for the region, the snow was falling more rapidly than a few hours ago and was likely the reason she'd lost her game trail. By the time she thought to stop and gather her bearings, Sitala was far removed from the targeted path and there were a few inches of fresh powder all over the mountainside.

In such conditions it would not be surprising to miss the signs of a claim. Had she not spotted movement within the flurry, she would have continued to impede upon the stranger and his work; however, Sitala did notice. She thought she heard something within the ethereal quiet of the falling snow and sought a route to intercept. As she trailed after the stranger she noticed that segments of snow were ripe with urine (either by smell or by color), and paused at a few patches to gather some information. The stranger that was marking these spots seemed to be in good health — and he was not alone, his scent overlaid others.

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One side of his body was plastered in snow by now, the other side still retaining his bushy and earthen hues. He didn't mind, however, it only made him strive onwards in his task. If the pack were to be established they'd need strong borders. To keep other packs as well as predators out. He knew a cougar wouldn't come close to a strong pack border; not unless they were stupid. Or very hungry.
He didn't want to think about the horror that could unfold if a cougar entered a pack in birthing season.
Many casualties, undoubtedly.

The man paused again, taking in the environment of his new haunt, home rather. It wasn't home without Grezig. He let out a long sigh, his breath whipped away almost instantly by the wind and snow. Was it pointless for him to lay markings in this weather? Did he do it just to keep busy?
He sighed again, turning to see if his markings were even relevant; if so he'd continue his work. If not...he supposed he'd just curl up underground or something; wait out the storm.

He didn't realise there was another until he nearly fell on them -- or they spoke out, whatever came first. Their white coat perfectly camouflaging them in the landscape like they themselves were no more than a form created by the flurries. 
"I apologise, I didn't see you there."  His voice was level yet welcoming, "What brings you to the borders?" Now, a curiosity hinted his voice -- curiosity and defensiveness. This was his pack now and if the other meant ill, he'd not stand for it.

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​​280 words

bumping this up to current day & ppcing sitala out.

wintersbane misses the words exchanged between derg and the pale woman at their borders. irregardless, she doesn't stay and he watches her depart and vanish into the neutral territory with clinical indifference. part of him is disappointed at the loss of a potential recruit but he doesn't dwell upon it as he approaches the earthen colored male with a low chuff to announce his presence, if his footfalls in the snow haven't already done it for him. an eventful border patrol so far, huh? he mentions the pale woman with a slight incline of his muzzle in the direction she'd disappeared in. he's curious about their small exchange but ultimately, he doesn't ask. it doesn't much matter now and beyond that wintersbane knows and acknowledges that not everyone is going to be cut out for the vartija.

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The man had not gotten a straight answer from the other, instead, he got a half-muttered response that sounded something like an apology and they were off again. Oh well, so much for his recruitment.
Then the Sotaherra was coming towards him, he too was battling the winter storm.

He dipped his head in greeting of the respected man,  "It would've been more eventful if I stepped on the wretch." He replied with a ghost of a smirk, turning to face Wintersbane.
"How are we for numbers?"  He didn't have a clue by this point, he wasn't even sure about Keen; though she'd likely return home as soon as they found her family.
She was certainly growing in mind, not much to say about her stature though. Still spindly but at least she wasn't as scared of him as the first time.

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148 words​

a rise of brow is given at derg's comment followed as it was by the shadow of a smirk upon the other male's lips. a clinical twitch of an ear is given as he regards the paw prints the pale female'd left in her wake as she'd departed from the vartija's borders as she'd came: just another vagabond. be nice, the sotaherra chastises sardonically; derg was entitled to his opinion of the pale slyph after all. not every attempt at recruiting is going to be successful, a rough lesson that wintersbane had absolutely learned the hard way. most of his attempts to recruit for blackfeather forest had ended with resounding 'no's. surprisingly his luck was holding for the vartija but the life of a recruiter was a rough one and many times there would be more than a fair share of doors slammed in one's face. most of my attempts to recruit for blackfeather woods when i was their snitch was met with rejection. derg, himself, had rejected the offer to join the dark woods, after all. the look the tundrian offers his compatriot now is one that clearly says 'as you well know'.

well, wintersbane begins on the topic of numbers, doing the math quickly in his head. there's for sure me, you and faeryn. i recruited a man along the coast, vonn. i'm not sure if he's made it to the taiga yet. he had a debt he had to repay and i wasn't about to stand in his way. last thing we need is an angry pack coming to settle an old score with us. wintersbane is confident that vonn will eventually make his way and settle with them. i haven't seen valkyr in some time ...so four of us. five if we're counting keen. assuming by this point wintersbane at least knows her name. i'll be going on another recruitment drive soon. there's a lot of packs to contend with which ...is good and bad. most of them are well established and their numbers should be filling. if they start sending wolves away that'll work to our advantage. plus the taiga is ours. there's no competition for hunting grounds, food or resources. that should be appealing. at least, it was to him.

too many packs in one region meant restricted hunting grounds, restricted resources and limited food. and what happened when they prey stopped frequenting? scared away by the flux of packs? wolves would begin to feel the hunger pangs. or maybe they wouldn't. either way, wintersbane was perfectly content with having room to spread out as he pleased.

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The man gave the Tundrian a wicked grin but without the malice it usually held. 
"I guess we just have to be patient." He mused, listening to the Sotaherra list off possible numbers. Five wasn't enough for a pack, he wasn't even sure Keen would stay. They couldn't rely on people coming to them either because...well. There was nothing out here. 
Nothing but free range hunting grounds.

His ears tilted, casting a glance around. If he were a human, he'd be running his hand through his head and rubbing the back of his neck in careful consideration. But he wasn't. So he just licked his lips before speaking. "We should both go to recruit. See if Keen wishes to stay here too, she's smart enough to make her own choices but I'm sure she wishes to see her family at least if she settles with us." 

A thought started to cross his mind, he voiced it, "What of the breeding season? Do you have desires with anyone?" He didn't really know why he was asking, only that if the man was working towards offspring it might boost their numbers or make the pack more desirable; a new generation to prove the packs worth. 
At least that's how he knew it to work.
Whatever the Tundrian thought, he supposed he'd just follow.

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it's important that keen doesn't feel pressured either way. if she chooses to stay with us i want her to be sure that it's what she wants and to know that i would not be opposed to her visiting her family or them visiting her here. but wintersbane could talk to her a bit more about it in detail if she wanted options. she's still a cub and wintersbane — softer around cubs than he was anyone else — is inclined to follow his paternal instinct because of it. alternatively, if she wants to go home then we'll help her get there safely. wintersbane says determinedly.

topic of keen, predictably, led into a similar branch off topic. breeding season and if he desired anyone they'd recruited. it was a bit awkward, admittedly, to talk to another man about who he desired. wintersbane'd never really spoken about that kind of thing to anyone before, keeping those types of things private and close to his chest. possibly, he replies with nonchalant gruffness, as if to hide his lack of comfort in talking about this sort of thing. but both parties should be in agreements to it and i'm not real sure that cubs are what we need right now. are there enough of us to care for them? will there be enough of us? of course there was time to soothe these worries and put them to bed. his mind could change, or it could be all primal instinct and he wouldn't think about the consequence at all — it wouldn't be the first time.

and, wintersbane begins his admittance with a clear of his throat. i might've already sired cubs with a woman from one of the coastal packs. i had her twice ...but i don't know if there were any others before, between or after me. for all wintersbane knew elixir could've had several sperm donors. the first time was heat of the moment but the second time was pure gluttony on my part. i should've been smarter about it ...but either way i don't expect to ever know if i fathered her cubs. even if he had letting them to elixir's pack was probably better. they were established and taking them away from their mother was out of the question. though wintersbane absolutely desired to be a father he had to think about what was best for his potential cubs. their needs were much more important than what he wanted.

 

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"Of course," he replied. He would never pressure the girl into staying. She had a family and a different life. A life where it didn't mean founding; easier. "I just don't have a clue where she's supposed to live. I'll keep looking though." His gaze trailed off to the side. Perhaps it was nerves that made him look around so much -- nervous of what though? 

But something small irked him in Wintersbane's words. As timid as Keen was, she wasn't a cub by no means, yet he wouldn't let his opposition show when he spoke: "She can handle herself just fine, I assure you." Even if it weren't true, he'd ensure it to become true. Even if it meant teaching the girl what he knew. It would be valuable for anyone to know how to fight, after all.
He saw reason in the man's words, nodding slowly, "Increase numbers, then think about expanding further."  His nose wrinkled for a moment, ears tilting. 

"At least we don't have to deal with those cubs. Not unless she'd kicked out and comes running back to you."  His gaze watched the Tundrian, a soft gleam of amusement there. He wasn't about to press more into it, he'd gotten more than enough answer. 
"Of course you can visit one day, if they look something like you then you can claim it or leave it. You're not the mother." Derg, so offhand in his ways and talking.
If his life, it was always the mother's problem. She had to carry and birth them, to him it wasn't anything for his behalf. He just provided the jump leads. 
The man shook his head slowly, shrugging. He wasn't exactly a master when it came to feelings yet had a somehow uncanny way of making the fixed. Or something, he'd been the glue for a lot of people. He just didn't know it.

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sounds like keen and i are cut of a similar cloth. he remarks, though she is much older than he'd been and their situations, he assumes, were different; yet despite their differences they weren't so terribly different. wintersbane doesn't want to get into a full history lesson on himself — because that was in the long ago past and teaghlaigh and his family were all gone or dead. has she given you any hints or clues that might give us a general direction? wintersbane inquires. he's travelled most of his life and though packs are disbanding and new ones cropping up to fill the void left often his recruitment drives give him the perfect opportunity to pay them visits, if need be. regardless, i can stop by the packs i pass on my recruitment drives, ask around if she wants to go home.

i never insinuated that she couldn't, wintersbane is quick to put derg's assumption to bed. ensuring her protection and care while staying with us doesn't mean that i don't think she can't handle herself. it's my duty as sotaherra to protect everyone who comes to the vartija whether they stay or not, to ensure everyone is fed and content. it was being a responsible alpha. he'd seen too many hands-off alphas and the result was a hairsbreadth from anarchy and chaos. keen is no different. until she decides what she wants to do she is an honorary member of the vartija. in the end though, temporary or not, the decision ultimately fell to wintersbane and keen. keen, because she had to make the personal decision and wintersbane because he was the sotaherra and the final call on these matters was his own.

there was something in the way that derg so casually says 'we don't have to deal with those cubs' that doesn't sit well with wintersbane and the tundrian's lips draw terse as he considers those words. he understands that cubs are not in the vartija's best interest right now but those cubs might be his children; and wintersbane would never turn a cub away whether it be his own or not. he doesn't want to be a bad father ...but there was a chance that he might never be a father to the cubs sired by elixir. he accepts that and wonders if maybe it's for the best.

what's done is done. i can't stop what's been set into motion. either way, i'll cross that bridge if i come to it. wintersbane says with finality. until then he doesn't want to bring it up again. c'mon. let's keep patrolling. he rasps, gesturing with his muzzle to the borders yet stretched out before them.

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The agouti man shook his head. The girl had no idea, probably had been lost for a time yet hadn't been found. His brows furrowed, thinking over the following words then nodded. It would be good to ask around, for her benefit if anything.

He looked into the man's glacials, not challenging yet understanding. Letting his ghost smile return. 
"You are leader material, most are unlike you. You believe in the order and caring of a pack, not just strength and ability." He let a genuine smile show this time, glad that he'd seen true to this man. "I intend to train her in whatever she decided to pursue, she has a favour for hunting." His eyes grew a fondness that drifted away from the man again. Keen would prove a good learner in time. All in time.
He was half glad he'd found her.

Again, he nodded at his finality on the subject of cubs. "There's a time for everything." He let the ghost of a smile return and followed the sotaherra on the patrol. Happy to call him a leader.