Wheeling Gull Isle corn liquor tastes sweeter in this town

He had not left the isle since setting foot on it, and the walls had yet to close in. There was no foreboding sense that lingered over him, no depressing hand to press down onto him and smother him in the loam. It was idyllic, for a change, to simply gaze out from a point on high and see the ocean spread endlessly and melt with sky at the horizon.

There was much to be done, and @Rhælla had not kept such things out of public knowledge as far as he could tell. Such he supposed was the way with any establishing hold. Set boundaries, familarize oneself, and maintain. All would have a purpose there and he hoped they would deign themselves to upholding it with pride rather than resignation. But a keen eye for such he did not necessary hold—he worked to familiarize himself with the island's breadth, but ultimately found himself ringing the coast in idle thought.

It was a passive habit hard to break, though perhaps he did attend to things somewhat mindlessly. Marking a border was not relatively difficult to perform once he learned where the tide could not reach. There were plenty of stones to make their claim clear, though he found they were well worn by the elements. They were not pretty roughhewn gems that he could easily collect should he have felt the pull.

He cast his gaze across the stretch of open water between the isle and the mainland at one point, halting his steps. Something had caught his eye, a glimmer of something, but whether it was real or simply a play on things he did not discern. The spirits had been quiet for so long and he, so out of practice with his craft, wondered if they would ever be there again.

In time, surely, he would find his place.

He pressed along the sandy path with a sigh.

no need to match length, but tagging the active lot for visibility if they'd like to join — @Lokie, @Connor, @Rosencrantz, @Komal, @Daegon

The giant was making sure that Aristos was more than prepared, he wanted to create a space or help create a space, where Rhaella and Lokie and the rest of his pack could find sanctuary. He remembered the talk he had with Rhaella and how she told him that what he was doing was good for he was honoring his family's memory, and that is what he was going to do. He had been separated from Lokie which ached his heart, he wanted to skid off and run to his best friend to see if he was okay and if he was adapting well, perhaps that's what he should do. But, his thoughts were interrupted by a strange mixed scent, his nose twitched trying to make it out however he couldn't, so he followed his nose to where this new scent may be. The titan male made his way along the outskirts of the beach, his coal tipped paws had led him to a new wolf, one he hadn't seen, perhaps he was lost? Trespassing? Connor was sure that he and Rhaella had marked the borders.

But what stopped Connor from padding up to him with haste was the mixed scent of Rhaella on him, perhaps they have spoken? Perhaps she invited him to Aristos? The male's eyes beamed as he padded up to the stranger with a welcoming expression and a wagging tail in greeting, he stopped far enough from the male as to not spook him and to give him his space. "Hello!" Connor called out to him, his face was still welcoming and polite as Connor moved a little closer but stopped, respecting a personal bubble, "my name is Connor," he began, "I am part of a forming pack called Aristos and I was wondering if you are joining said pack?" His voice was calm but eager, he did his best to retain a kind tone and refrain from being weird and annoying as the titan kept wagging his tail in greeting.

His trek continued onward, though not for very long. It was hard to miss the summons of a creature far greater than he and the same sense of dread that had come to him when Rhælla had found him returned full force. He would have loved to turn away, to bolt into the underbrush like the coyote he very much resembled, but this time he held his ground. It was difficult to betray the instinct—the wolf was massive, perhaps the largest that he had ever seen in all his life. Wolves in general were not something he was overly confident in keeping company in, not when his life had been so very much pockmarked with rampant hybridization.

How easily such jaws could sunder flesh from bone, how they could tear life out.

And it would seem that the wolf did not anticipate him being apart of them, either.

An amusing thing to note, though he did so bitterly. To think he had found a place to belong only to have it questioned by the ignorant—and how hastily he arrived at that conclusion, how the bitterness and morose still lingered deeply within. A demure smile plastered itself across his face for pleasantries only, but inside he seethed that the timing had not been better. Or perhaps worse—what if this goliath had thought him desecrating their sanctity if he had seen him marking their borders?

"I am Tarot, Lady Rhælla has allowed me to stay," he answered, wondering what this Connor would make of him now.

The titan didn't make note of his pelt colors, in fact, it slipped his mind, but he was more focused on who this particular wolf was and if he was a stranger or not. Connor made note that this wolf was smaller than him, perhaps he was intimidating him? To him, whenever one looks at Connor, they see a tower, a muscular man that could harm them, but that wasn't the case. However, he put this past him and kept up his friendly matter, he would approach all strangers like this, unless they gave him a reason not to but he hoped it would never come to that. His coal tipped tail was still wagging, his emerald orbs were warm and welcoming, his muscles relaxed, he was taking lessons from Lokie. The smaller man said his name was Tarot and he explained that Rhaella had let him stay if Rhaella was approving of him, so was Connor, unless, again, he gave him a reason not to.

Connor gave a dip of his head, to show that he was no threat, or at least he tried to, "nice to meet you Tarot, it's a pleasure to be meeting you," he replied as he craned his head back up to meet the smaller man's gaze. The cinnamon male didn't want this to be awkward, he didn't want to be remembered for being a giant intimidating mountain, so he tried to distract the man from feeling uncomfortable with him. "So what brings you to Aristos?" He started, sitting on his haunches, he was going to try to make conversation with this wolf.

The goliath of a beast tried to make himself seem more hospitable then, more friendly. The attempt was admirable, but the coywolf's expression did not shift. It mattered not to him whether they stood or sat, or even lounged across the shifting sands waiting for the tide to come in and lick at their feet. There would always be a difference between him and the rest of any lot, just as there had been a difference between his world and theirs.

Still, the question poised was certainly one that netted amusement.

"Why are any of us here?" His muzzle raised to appraise such, considering: "What brought you here?" Was this one too, cut of the same cloth? A practitioner like he and Rhælla, someone tied to a craft that fell along similar lines. But then again he suspected not—there was something far less composed, something more earthy and grounded than otherworldly. More than likely, he summed up the whole of Connor as having another purpose altogether than a tie to some untold mysticism.

It seemed like the smaller wolf avoided his question, was he not comfortable with him? Connor knew he couldn't force it out of someone but he will eventually get everyone's stories. He decided to humor him, the man was asking philosophical like questions, "well from what I picked up, everyone just wants to have a better chance at Aristos," he began, his giant eyes were thoughtful, "some wolves want a restart, so they thought Aristos was the place to do it, and Rhaella has created a safe space for everyone." The giant wasn't sure if this was entirely true, but he had to make some sense to the situation, everyone had different stories, but he assumed that was the general thought from everyone.

Tarot has asked why he was here, Connor sighed, "well I wanted to find a purpose, when I got here, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, and when I met my best friend Lokie and Rhaella, it seemed clear that Aristos was the right path for me." The cinnamon wolf said with honestly, though he didn't want to get too much into detail, he thought if he could share his story, Tarot might be more comfortable with sharing his but Connor began to doubt.

A better chance of what? Survival? Perhaps that was why any of them formed these cohesive groups, at least the ones not bound by creed. But the personal reasons were always different, that much he had discovered in the short span of time he had spent in the Hollow. Some wanted to raise their families as they pleased, others wanted a sense of security. Some, like Connor, wanted to find their purpose. All of them seemed reasonable, based on that alone, but who was he to begrudge them of such?

The sand shifted loosely underneath his feet, the warmth of it not yet a comfort.

"And what path is that?" he asked, gaze honing in on the wolf shrewd and curious. Void of expression, he did not consider that he would seem intrusive, or at minimal, hawkish in his grasp for answers. There were only few it had ever perturbed, at least openly and the sum of the limited to the vastness of the rolling mountains and valleys of this particular microcosm of sorts.

The man asked what his path was and if Connor was being completely honest, he wasn't sure, he hadn't planned anything up past joining Aristos with Lokie. But one of Connor's goals was to try and get on good terms with everyone he meets and hopefully keep a steady relationship. He wasn't worried when it came to Lokie, they were irrespirable at this point and there was nothing that was going to change that unless one of them died. The titan sat there for a moment, his gaze was thoughtful as it scanned the sky looking for an answer, "well.." He began, unsure of how to continue, "I guess I might as well be there for the ride, see where my paws take me." The man concluded, his orbs laid back on Tarot.

"What about you?" He sincerely asked, he really wanted to get a grasp of who this man was, or get a little bit out of him. His goal wasn't to be annoying or come off as such but he felt that if he told someone his goals, the other party should give some hit of theirs, for a better understanding. However, Connor remained polite, his tail thumped on the sand, "or wel... You don't have to unless you want to," he smiled.

To follow the road wherever it went—how quaint. Yet it had its own merit if nothing else, and he would not begrudge him of it. Whatever particular strengths he had he didn't need to boast; Connor seemed to be quite all right with letting things happen as they would. And that was truly all any of them could do, though perhaps the bolder would try to steer their fate and mold it as they saw fit. The coywolf nodded gently; yes, that was all reasonable. Perhaps things would be quite quaint on the isle, a place of sanctity where the world seemed to be nothing but chaos and static.

The world could have done more with the polite and reserved.

But as for him?

"I am a healer by trade," and perhaps more than that, but he did not diverge such details with relative strangers. The Lady had been a fluke, a gamble that had paid off, but to what end he did not yet know. How true she was to her own craft was another thing, but he did not seek her out to intrude on such things. She would include who she wanted, just as he would.

Thoughtfully, he added: "Perhaps if you see plants in good shape, you could tell me."

A pack did not thrive without teamwork, after all.

The smaller man told Connor that he was a healer by trade, the man blinked in surprise, but his expression soon turned into a welcoming one. "Healers are important, I am glad that Aristos has some form of medical aid in case we need it." The titan complimented, his tail quitely thumped on the sand, he was telling the truth, it was essential for a pack to have a medic because many accidents do happen and if there is no one there to aid then the pack is brittle. "I am more of an explorer myself, but I am not sure I will be doing too much of that.once Aristos officially forms." The cinnamon male was initally sad about this sinc he loved exploring with Lokie but now he had other responsabilities.

Tarot asked him if he sees any form of herbs that if he would let him know when he sees one, "I will," he replied with a curt nod. "Though, Rhaella said that there was a garden of herbs growing on the island," he added thoughtfully, hopefully Tarot wouldn't have to journey far for herb collecting when there is something growing right here at camp.

A garden growing on the island? This was news to him, truly a surprise, though his lack of expression betrayed it. There was a moment that passed where he wondered why he hadn't been told of such, though perhaps he was simply meant to find it on his own, he reasoned. But at least Connor would keep his eyes open for things that would be of use to them, even if the coywolf wasn't entirely sure how he intended to get such done if he did not wander at least a little.

But that was taking things a little too literally and he knew it.

"I'm sure you'll find other uses for your exploration," but if he didn't, then that was on him. He simply assumed he didn't need to tell the other what he could have used such a skill for—the applications were as numerous as they were useful. But the idle chatter wore on him and like the recluse he was very much still, he felt the pull to flee to the brush.

"I should return to my duties," he said, hoping to disengage from their conversation.