Sea Lion Shores The First Step

Anyone from SB! Please don't feel the need to match the length of this post. Most of this is just me explaining what happened to Majesty while he was inactive.

Majesty was finally back again. Back to the Teekon Wilds and all of its memories and places that he had been before. His time spent as a partial amnesiac had not been fun, and he had new scars from his experiences. A few months ago, back when he was still the alpha of Wheeling Gull Isle, he had tried to cross the short distance to the mainland during a storm. The current and the crashing waves had been too strong, even for him, and as a result, he had slammed the side of his head into a rock. The injury had nearly killed him. He had washed ashore unconscious, and had awoken some time later to remember nothing of his time on the Isle as an alpha, and remembering nothing of his mate, Erika. To be clear, he remembered Erika herself. At the time, he thought he was still in Silvertip Mountain, and that she was merely a pack mate. Feeling as though his head were being crushed between two boulders, he had stumbled -- somehow -- all the way back to the mountain... only to find it deserted.

This was when he realized something was wrong. Having no idea where they had gone, and not remembering his ties to the Wild, he had left. He had gone far from this place, and had been gone for some time. At least a few months. Due to his loss of memory, perhaps, he underwent a few personality changes. He became less docile, though not overly aggressive. He was more open to fighting if need be, and did so many times for food and shelter. He joined no packs, feeling -- for some reason -- that he had done something wrong, though he couldn't figure out what. He began having strange dreams, and would wake up with his heart pounding and his pupils dilated. But as much as he tried to remember his dreams, they always slipped away with every second of wakefulness.

In the end, he realized his memory was missing a chunk of time, and went quickly and with purpose back to the Teekon Wilds in an attempt to jog it. It drove him insane for months. He spent most of his time staying away from others, hiding when he smelled wolves too close for comfort. He wasn't ready to face the world yet. He needed to remember. And then...

One morning, it all came back to him. He awoke on the shore -- where he had been spending most of his time, as he seemed to glean bits and pieces of information when he was there -- and it was back. All of his memories: Being driven from Silvertip Mountain, founding the Wheeling Gull Isle pack, convincing Erika to leave, finding out she was pregnant... and that night, when he slammed his head into a rock in the sea... His memories brought both joy and anguish. He swam out to the Isle, and found it abandoned. So the pack had fallen apart in his absence... He knew the others had probably all found new packs by now, and he wished them all well. He knew then what a naive and silly alpha he had been, and made a vow to find his previous pack mates and apologize for the way he had run the pack. Mainly, though, his heart was set on one goal:

Finding Erika. He knew that she had most likely given birth by then, if she was still alive and well. And that last part is what scared him the most. He had no idea of her whereabouts or her condition... or the condition of his children. He would spend the rest of his life looking for her, or die trying. And if he found her, no matter what state she was in, or what pack, if any, he would stay with her and never leave her again. She probably thought he was dead, if she was still alive...
----

And so, that morning at the Sea Lion Shores, he searched with a purpose for any sign of nearby wolves. He had gone to the borders of Horizon Ridge already, and had found that area, too, abandoned. Briefly, and with desperation, he had wondered if the whole of the Teekon Wilds had been abandoned in his absence, and he had simply been too distraught to notice upon his return. But no. That was silly. He had scented plenty of wolves in the vicinity. And now here was, facing Stavenger Bay, but too afraid to go near, for fear of being punished for trespassing. He needed a nice approach. He needed information. He needed to find someone who knew where his Erika had gone. With a loud and clear howl, he called forth anyone -- anyone who would be willing to help...

my wolves kieran and Jace know Erika Kiearan took care of her and Jace is her beta



Thistle cloud had not given the isle wolves a thought in recent time. Having her own problems to deal with, it was that simple really. She didn’t spare them a thought or a glance, they didn’t deserve it and they were none of her concern. She was not even privy to the details that they had disbanded, being that she hardly ever left her home borders both at her husbands own whims, because he did not let any woman and child out without an escort since Julooke’s attack and secondly just because she was a home body by nature.

She did however hear the howl for help and being a healer she approached the borders with caution. Fearful, but needing to help a strong urge. She just hoped that her husband had heard the call to and that he would come soon. She could hope right, she could handle herself if the occasion called for it, and she was slowly gaining more headway with learning to protect herself, but that didn’t mean she had to like it right.

She stood at the border’s her tail up above her back and her eyes rather assessing, and she spoke What ails you? What is your reason for needing help? He didn’t seem to have anything wrong with him, she looked him over swiftly looking for any open wounds, or festering sores or even a blankness in his face and eyes, finding nothing she was puzzled and she waited quietly for him to answer her questions. She stood territorial and anxious waiting, but to look at her outward appearance you would not know she felt this way.

Presently, along came a female wolf from Stavanger Bay, who asked him what was ailing him, and why he needed help. She seemed to look him over for any sign of wounds or what have you. Quickly, he tried to explain.

"It is not a physical wound that needs mending," he said. "I have a question. I do not know if you know who I am, but my name is Majesty, and I was once the alpha of the Wheeling Gull Isle pack. A few months ago I hit my head on some rocks in the sea and had been suffering a bout of amnesia until a few days ago. The memories after I left my previous pack and created the Isle pack were locked from my mind, as well as the memory of my mate, Erika. When I finally remembered all that there was to remember, I came rushing back here to try and find her, for I love her and she has, by now, most likely given birth to our pups. But there is no one left on the Isle. It had disbanded during my absence, it seems."

He took a breath, trying to get to the point. "My question is this: Do you know the whereabouts of my mate or my pups? Do you know if she or they are alive and well? Do you know anything that could help me?" He stared at her with wide eyes. "I beg of you, if you know even a whisper of information that could lead me to my Erika, I will do anything you want if you'll tell me. I will hunt down every scrap of meat in these Wilds and deliver it all to your borders to feed your members if you'll say that you have information I need."

He took another breath, feeling winded and light-headed, but he did not take his eyes off of the female. His fate and the fate of his wife and children could be determined by what she said, so he would give her his utmost attention.

Ragnar's thoughts are his own and do not reflect mine personally in any shape or form.

The howl that had risen into the sky had not went unnoticed by Ragnar, simply he chose to ignore it for the time being. He had nothing to say to Majesty, owed him nothing. Ragnar had found out that the Gods made them reap what they sowed. He was contented to continue ignoring it — after all he had no reason to care about anyone outside of Stravanger Bay and had nothing but what he felt was righteous loathing for him at that — until he caught Thistle Cloud's scent heading in that direction. Cursing lowly to himself in his native tongue Ragnar took after her scent trail with a dramatic snort and roll of icy caribbean eyes. Soon, he came upon them standing on Sea Lion Shore, just as Majesty introduced himself and went into his long, overly long Ragnar mentally corrected himself, explanation. Despite it, Ragnar was incapable of feeling sympathy. Even if he had known where they had went he likely wouldn't have told Majesty anyway. As luck would have it, Ragnar didn't care enough to know what happened to Wheeling Gull Isle after their second Alpha committed suicide. It wasn't his problem.

What makes you think we care enough to know what happened? Ypres, Ragnar's word twisted cruelly with a vicious hiss around the woman's name, baring his teeth at Majesty, unable to believe that he had the nerve to call for any of them. Presently, he was lucky Ragnar wasn't tearing him to pieces, which he was itching to do. He had been contented with the assertion that he would never see him again and yet, right on schedule, here he was. They were like a disease that just kept coming back, weren't they? When would they realize that they needed to leave Stavanger Bay alone? The entire pack had had their fill of them for numerous lifetimes. was a poor leader, Something that Ragnar thought ran in Wheeling Gull Isle's brief history. Ragnar spoke simply, stepping beside Thistle, prepared to nudge her back and away from Majesty. He didn't want this man anywhere near his wives, family or pack. Even if I knew anymore than that, which I don't, I would not feel very inclined to tell you, even with your insulting offer of catching our food. We don't need you to catch our food for us. Stavanger Bay was a capable pack. It seemed that Ragnar would always be hostile, unable to forgive for them for invading and unable to further forgive for acting like the victims. He had no time for wolves like that, and least of all no patience.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN

After this I’ll add one more post so I can get the exp, but I’ll leave you to it

,

Thistle listened and she was alarmed that he was the former leader of the pack of the isle. How had he found them, what did he want. Why would he call for them, when he had encroached. Her thoughts went immediately to her children and she felt like snarling, however she did feel pity for the male, though she knew nothing of the whereabouts of the pack or his mate and children. Before she could even fully think about what to say however, her husband was there and pushing her behind himself. Which she wasn’t entirely pleased about, but she kept her words and her looks to herself, he was only being protective as was par usual Ragnar style.

She stepped back and her tiny self was easily hidden behind her husband other than tawny fur when she moved every so often. She kept her head down and didn’t say anything deciding that this was not her fight she had come because he had called for healing and she was a healer, but it turned out she could not help him anyway. She spoke then I only heal physical wounds. She had nothing else to say, and she wasn’t even sure if he had heard her. She brushed her muzzle across her husband’s side and spoke quietly for Ragnar only to hear May I leave dearheart? she would leave having nothing more to add, and her husband had this under control.

Majesty sighed as Ragnar came along and made protective motions of his -- he presumed -- mate. It wasn't as though the former alpha had come here with bad intentions. He was even staying well away from the border. But he could not stop the thoughts of others, nor the biting words. He closed his eyes to quell the rising anger -- an emotion he wasn't quite used to yet. It had only come about recently in his time as an amnesiac. He still wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

Opening his honey-colored eyes again, he stared impassively at Ragnar. He didn't know much about the brute, for he hardly remembered their meeting a long time ago in Ravensblood Forest, and the only other encounter he knew of was one between Ypres and him, in which Ragnar had warned his pack-mate to stay away from Horizon Ridge, or something like that. It had been too long to remember properly and he wasn't going to sit here and wrack his brain about it. He gave another sigh as he tried to think of what to say.

"Ragnar," he began, his voice strong but calm, "I hold great respect for you, though I know hardly anything about you. You must think me a great fool for the way I once led my pack, and I apologize for any trouble my former underlings may have caused you, as I know not the fate of any of the rest of them, either." Here he bowed his head, and carried quickly on. "If there is nothing more you wish to say to me, nor I to you, I'll take my leave and you may be gone of my presence -- perhaps forever, if it is your wish." Really, he was only there to find information about Erika, and once he had deemed Ragnar and his mate useless in that regard, he had no more need to stay. He felt the itch to be off. Still, out of politeness -- that ever-present hold over him which had never left even when he did not remember himself -- he stayed and waited to be dismissed.

Ragnar had no way of knowing what sort of intentions that Majesty held, simply he knew that his enemy had shown up calling for any of his pack after, Ragnar assumed, running with his tail tucked between his legs after he doomed not only his pack but his mate to hell; hell, Ragnar had found out, had arrived on the Isle's doorstep in the form of Jinx, the leader of Silvertip Mountain that he wanted to meet — not realizing that such a meeting would never take place. Regardless, Ragnar could not break his first impression of Majesty, nor could he forget what his members, the deflects of the Isle, had told him, nor Majesty's own actions. He might not have realized it but he had created Ragnar's loathing towards him by placing his pack literally on Horizon Ridge's doorstep and then not even coming to greet him when Ragnar had made to approach him on it and give his grim warning. Not that Ragnar was perfect because he wasn't. He made his own mistakes, but his mistakes didn't endanger the entirety of his pack, nor put all the lives that inhabited it into danger. He only hurt himself and if Thistle and Nerian were asked, his wives. Yet, taking Nerian as his second wife was a mistake but it also wasn't. He didn't regret it and he wouldn't apologize for it. He had both of the women he wanted, both of the women that he loved and that loved him and though Thistle was still, probably, angry at him she was beginning to come around and Ragnar had the confidence that in a few months time it would be fine. A good thing, even. If something were to ever happen to him they would have their children, his children and each other and the pack. Not that he intended for anything to happen to him. He had a long life to live yet.

Ragnar lent Majesty his ear when his nemesis began to speak, starting off with words of respect. Ragnar was weary of it, unsure if it was truthful or if Majesty was trying to mock him. His doubt was stemmed deeply, in his ignorant belief that Majesty couldn't have respect for him because he hadn't even respected his own pack, nor any of the other's if claiming the Isle without even speaking to Pump or him first was of any indication. Coy and cutting smirk tugged at the corners of Ragnar's lips as the male continued to spoke, though the scarred Scandinavian remained silent. I only wanted you to leave us alone. I wanted you to abandon the Isle which you should have never claimed in the first place, Ragnar spoke, canting his head to the side in a bird like manner, eyes of caribbean ice cold and cruel, true to his heathen nature even if he hid his barbarism behind coy smirks and clever, falsely ignorant words, or silence. Why did you claim that Isle? Why did you think that Silvertip, or the Plateau, or us of the Ridge would be okay with that? Ragnar had always wanted to know. Majesty had boxed himself in and encroached on the hunting grounds of two of the oldest packs in the entirety of the Wilds. It was in the past and his pack, as Ragnar had perdicted, had fallen and destroyed itself, but still, Ragnar was a very curious man.

Head canted towards his Queen Wife as Thistle spoke softly in his ear, her lovely voice low so that only he would hear what it was she was saying. For a heartbeat Ragnar was silent, wishing she wouldn't leave him alone with Majesty. Ragnar did not trust himself to be a good man because he wasn't. In the eyes of his wives, children and subordinates for some reason he was but he knew the truth of the black heart that beat in his chest. He was a heathen, a demon. He was cruel and merciless. He was barbaric because it was the way of his culture. They were a harsh and ruthless people, and the truth was, Ragnar hadn't changed just as much as he knew that he would never change no matter how posh and tame these lands were. Ef þú vilt, ástin mín. He spoke lowly to her in his native tongue.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN

"icelandic translation here"

Last Post for me :D

Thistle stared at the wolf in front of her and was disgusted with his attitude. He spoke of respect yet he had encroached on their land, had tried to cross the sea when there was a storm knowing full well he had a wife to provide for, she had nothing but contempt for him. And perhaps she was a bit harsh in her judgement not being thrilled with the opposite sex at the moment anyway, but regardless she would let him know what she thought. She brushed her muzzled across her husband’s side again "Þakka þér Kæri hjarta"

Thistle looked at the male in front of her again and spoke I am taking my leave now, but I will leave you with this Majesty. I think you are foolish and disrespectful and I hope you find your wife only because she needs closure. No one deserves a broken heart, especially a woman who is bearing your children. Why you walked across the water amazes me, the sea is her own mistress and you angered her and you should have known better. Good Day Majesty Former Alpha of the Isle She looked at him her words spoke with not reproach just quietly, but firm enough that he could hear her. Then with one last look, she turned and walked back towards her home.

This is my last post, unless Ragnar feels the need to start a spar with him, which I'm fine with. Either T1 or Sparring Pits, whichever you like best. HOWEVER, I suck at numbers in the sparring pit, so if you do wanna do it that way, I'd like to ask if you'll do the calculations for me.

Majesty, despite trying to remain calm even while insults were thrown in his direction, no longer held peace with these kinds of situations. He was not the wolf he had once been, and his eyes became slits of anger at Ragnar's words, though he mostly ignored Thistle's.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice full of sarcasm. "I wasn't aware that I had to get permission from you to go where I pleased. Did I ever trespass on your borders? No. If you had problems with me or any in my pack, I apologize, but you don't have to deal with myself or them any longer. Now if you'll excuse me, Your Highness, I have a wife and children to find, and you have an ego to be boosted."

He gave a mock bow to the viking and turned to walk away. If it came to blows, Majesty would kill the son of a bitch. He was done acting polite in the face of such arrogance, being completely unaware that he carried the same arrogance as Ragnar...

I'll have this archived. <3

Ragnar heard Thistle's parting words to Majesty with a coy smirk tugging at the edges of his lips, though he did not agree with her mentality that she hoped he find his wife and kids. A family that he doomed to damnation by his own ignorance, in Ragnar's mind. This male was no better than Crete. When a pack is your senior you do. You created your own demons and then acted the victim, couldn't even face me when I came to speak to you about it. Instead I was greeted by an ignorant woman who didn't even know the borders of your pack lands. There was a lot of things that Ragnar didn't like about Majesty, his lack of courtesy and respect for packs that had been around a lot longer than his own, his lack of respect proven with the words he had just spewed in the Scandinavian's face. The undeserved sarcasm. As if Ragnar was in the wrong. Majesty had a lot of growing up to do, in Ragnar's eyes. It was in the past. Wheeling Gull Isle had been the ticking time bomb Ragnar had thought it'd been and now it was gone. At Majesty's parting words, Ragnar let out a chuckle. Instead of finding them offense he found them amusing. Majesty didn't scare him and if the immature man truly wanted to fight him then he would have acted upon the insulation instead of walking away. Ragnar was confident that realistically, Majesty was no match for him on the battlefield. In truth, there was no real winning against a man who had long ago accepted death if, by some small sliver of chance Majesty would happen to win. Either way Ragnar would be victorious. Dying and going to Valhalla was not a loss, to him, not when he would live among the Gods and fight alongside his All-Father in the battle of Ragnarök.

Ragnar was silent as he watched Majesty depart. The scarred Scandinavian had no intentions of fighting Majesty, verbally or physically because Ragnar had nothing to prove. Instead, he watched the male go with a disgusted look twisting his scarred features before he turned and headed after his Queen Wife with a mischievous gleam in his eye hoping to catch her before they reached the Bay.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN