Sawtooth Spire I can't get you out from under my veins

From the former Sawtooth Spire pack's internal territories: On the lower reaches of the mountain there exists a place with rocks that jut from the earth and stand as tall as trees do. While there are some trees, of the coniferous variety, these rocks that look as though they could be petrified trees dominate the land giving it the translated name "Stone Forest".

What the fuck was this?

Wylla thought the grassy foothills of their new mountain were bad enough with their myriad tripping hazards, but this beggared belief. She'd been walking along, minding her own business, only to wander across a most unusual kind of forest. Sure, there were trees here and there, tall lodgepoles and the like, but there were also humongous vertical stones bursting from the earth, and some of those were as tall as the resident foliage.

I'm literally going to die in this place, Wylla remarked aloud as she paused beside one particular rock. If she didn't trip and break her ankle in the foothills, then she was liable to be crushed by one of these gargantuan monoliths if ever they fell. If not that, then she reckoned she would get lost up on the mountain where the paths were labyrinthine in nature. Everything about Sawtooth Spire screamed DANGER! to the little she-wolf.

Mahler was lucky she wanted to pursue... something with him, because otherwise she'd have noped right outta there.

i'm literally going to die in this place,

to melkor, the danger of the ascension and the unwelcoming glint of snowcrested peaks like curving teeth of some fallen titan lording over the valley of the spire is exactly the kind of fortress he wanted to call home. it fortifies itself for the most part. he would be surprised if they have a lot of trespassers — especially given the ease of how quickly they could be tossed from the side of it. it seems though that not all agree with this, voiced as it was by a woman that, while changed a bit from the last time he's seen her, he recognizes.

while the forest of stone is unlike anything he's ever seen before he doesn't feel threatened by them. he wouldn't though. he was born for this sort of terrain thru his tundrian ancestry. the coywolf ancestry ...well, he wasn't sure that did him any good ( sorry arturo ). would he have been born in enok tundra it would've been among stone and snow and ice. he lets out a low chuff to announce his presence, figuring a response of 'that's a little dramatic, don't you think?' wouldn't be appreciated. ❝i've never seen anything like this before.❞ melkor admits then, glimpsing at the stone monoliths around them in awe.

Her eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds and yet Quellcrist pressed on to the south, determined to find a deer before she let herself sleep. She loped all night long, wending back toward the river, relieved when Frolic slipped off her shoulder and went for an icy swim. Q passed a lake—the one Mal had mentioned?—and began veering toward the nearby foothills without even realizing it. The rising sun cast a huge shadow over a neighboring creek, where a telling ache in her temple finally brought her to a stop.

She wasn't in the least surprised when a familiar head popped up in the nearby creek. Frolic had probably gotten here hours ago, having swum the waterways. If Quell had known this one's name, she would've laughed. But she was now very weary and only sighed as she dropped to her haunches, then slid forward onto her belly. Before her head could hit the ground, a pillow presented itself in the form of her furry friend and Q offered a weak protest of, "But you're so moist," before falling fast asleep.

When she woke some time later, she gauged it to be mid-morning, maybe a little later. Her head no longer ached, thankfully. She saw Frolic fishing in the nearby creek and smirked, padding over to snatch one of the half a dozen overgrown minnows piled on the bank beside him. In retaliation, the otter spun with his latest catch still in his claws and slapped her snout with it, prompting Q to laugh heartily and spring backward.

She left him there for now and meandered toward the nearby mountain, drawing in several deep breaths that flared her nostrils. It sort of smelled like a pack lived here, yet the scents were nowhere near as powerful as Neverwinter's. Perhaps it was a newer claim? Quell didn't think much of it as she raised her muzzle and howled.

Call it superstition, but Wylla was afraid to get too close to any of the stone giants. It seemed like a good way to jinx herself into an early grave. She treaded slowly, giving them a wide berth and sticking closer to the proper trees when she found them. It wasn't long before her pensive silence was broken by Melkor's arrival. She shot the blue-grey wolf a quirked brow when he revealed he'd never seen the likes before.

I'd be surprised if you had, she agreed. Seems a bit unnatural, doesn't it? I'd be worried that you're secretly an alien if you were familiar with this. But anything else she might've said on the subject was cut short by a distant howl. Wylla was grateful for the distraction. She didn't need any further excuse to get away from the forest of stone. The unusual arrangement gave her the heebie-jeebies and she didn't think she would ever willingly come back to this spot.

She glanced sidelong at Melkor, giving him the opportunity to take the lead before making a beeline for the source of the call. To say she was shocked to find a mini-me of the broad tundra wolf was an understatement. As they drew near, Wylla practically gawked at Quellcrist, eyes bouncing uneasily between the man and the girl. She couldn't help the thoughts that spilled across her mind in that moment: would Melkor accept her without hesitation because Quellcrist was obviously his daughter? She would do the same if Tiercel came calling, but since she had a master's degree in hypocrisy, Wylla didn't like the idea of anyone else getting a free pass, so she fixed Quellcrist with a bit of an unwarranted searching glare.

a laugh escapes melkor's lips at wylla's 'secret alien' comment. ❝well, last time i checked i wasn't an alien. secret or otherwise.❞ he assures her, tone playfully amused. still, the massive stones give him a chill but not necessarily in the way that they frighten him. they do appear unnatural as if deliberately placed by some celestial deity. if he'd have been familiar with either he might've compared it to what humans called stonehedge or the giant rune stones of the vikings. ❝they're kinda cool.❞ he breathes, circling around one slowly, studying it as if it might whisper the secrets of the spire to him.

it doesn't but a familiar voice does ring out; echoing upon the stonewalls of their mighty fortress.

as wylla offers him the lead, he takes it, a skip in the beat of his heart. part of him hoping he hasn't heard wrong and the other part not wanting to get his hopes up. it's been quite some time since he's seen quellcrist.

despite that, his mini-me is really, truly standing there before him as he and wylla draw nearer. melkor doesn't fail to notice that wylla gawks first at quellcrist and then to him. ❝q,❞ he rasps her favored nickname into the frost bitten air. she hasn't changed ...except maybe she looks a little older now. not quite so gangly as he remembers. ❝this is my daughter, quellcrist.❞ melkor makes the introduction though he feels like the part about her being his daughter was unnecessary though he doesn't introduce wylla because mochi isn't sure if melkor knows her name yet or not. ❝what brings you to sagtannet's borders, q?❞ he might be her father but he was a master warrior and an eisen and he still had a job to do.

A pair of wolves arrived not long after her call, the first giving her a look that prompted Quell to sit back on her haunches and feel around for a second head. But her forelegs dropped and she resumed all fours when her gaze slid past the she-wolf to the larger, darker figure behind her. Her pale purple eyes widened as she found herself looking into her father's eyes.

"Yooooo," Q exclaimed, still marveling at the coincidence even as Melkor took the time to exchange some introductions... well, sorta. He forgot to mention his cohort's name. She wondered if this was her new stepmom or something, which was a wild thought. She almost made the joke, though she realized she should probably answer her father's question.

"I'm on a mission," she shared, pausing as she pondered. Perhaps her relationship with Melkor should've been more complicated, considering their history and his rather laissez-faire approach to fatherhood, yet Quell didn't hold it against him for whatever reason. If anything, she wouldn't mind getting to know him a bit better. She wondered if he was down for that.

Then Q decided it didn't matter if he was on-board, she wasn't going to pass up this opportunity. Forgetting to complete her sentence, she asked, "Sagtannet, huh? Where do I sign up?" She would have to get word back to Seabolt somehow, let them know the big game was around here somewhere, but just like that, Quell's mission had shifted. Now, her objective was some much overdue father/daughter bonding.

Shit, really? Wylla couldn't help but respond when Melkor introduced his daughter. You'd never guess. You look nothing alike. As for her, she didn't find names all that necessary to exchange on the border. If they became pack, they'd exchange names then, and if they didn't, then names didn't matter in the slightest. In fact, Wylla didn't find much of anything necessary on the borders except a healthy dose of submission and respect. Quellcrist hadn't actively shown any yet.

The lack of it was what prompted the straightening of Wylla's posture. Her ears flipped rigidly forward, her lips twisted into a silent warning, and her thin tail arced high up over her hindquarters as she stared daggers into Quellcrist's pale eyes, hoping to remind her that she was being rude by not at least averting her eyes from them. Maybe Wylla was a little old-fashioned to expect blatant submission from a leader's kid, but she would've expected Melkor to teach his daughter better manners than this. The man was impressive and respectable, himself, but if he wouldn't hold his daughter accountable for her border etiquette, she was happy to do so for him.

Wylla expected her body language to do all the talking for her regarding Q's missteps so far, so the only question she had was, what mission?

at wylla's sarcastic response, melkor raises his shoulder in a half shrug. she wasn't wrong. even melkor himself can't see anything of elixir in quellcrist. ironic, that though her conception had been a heat of the moment thing that it is the warlord tundrian she should look the most like.

i'm on a mission.

melkor expects the sentence to continue but quellcrist trails off and switches gears, repeating the name of the pack and asking where she signs up. for a moment, melkor isn't sure if she's serious but heard nothing in her tone but genuine interest. for the first time since awakening to his wife's corpse in rigor mortis, melkor feels buoyant. melkor's never been the type to mope copiously; instead he looks forward to the uncertain future and focuses his energy on that over grieving those that will never come back. perhaps in this manner, he could easily be called cold-hearted. and maybe it wasn't wrong.

though he's never been one to believe in anything he can't see with his own eyes — the exception being his brief period of following the faith of the blackfeather wolves — he feels like quellcrist being here and wanting to stay might be some boon from whatever non-existent deities that were looking out for him. in the midst of his thoughts it doesn't go unnoticed that wylla tries to make his daughter submit but melkor doesn't interfere. yes, he might be her father and he may not require that sort of subordinate to leader respect of her in private but it's not unfair of someone else to. border etiquette was important, after all.

wylla asks quellcrist what mission and melkor adds: ❝and for who?❞ would she be in trouble if she didn't return? but melkor knows it doesn't matter because if she wants to stay then he won't chase her away. ❝what skills can you offer sagtannet, q?❞ melkor asks of his daughter, intent to treat this like any other border interception — though mostly for wylla's sake. he doubts it would look real good if he just accepted her in without going thru the usual routine, daughter or not.

In spite of Melkor's halfway introduction, the she-wolf still glared at her. Quell scrunched her face, unsure what she'd done to deserve that look, when it occurred to her: it was what she hadn't done that likely irked the woman. Without hesitation, the adolescent not only dropped to the ground, she gladly rolled onto her back to expose her pale underbelly, legs kicking absently at the air as she cheekily replied, "Submission." Then, more sincerely: "Sorry 'bout that, ma'am."

Flipping right side up again, Q stayed low to the ground and offered up a real answer. "I was searching for big game for a pack called Seabolt," she told the truth, well aware that her abrupt decision to abandon mission and pack alike probably looked bad. It felt bad, though not so much that it would change her mind. Quell liked Seabolt well enough but this was her father.

She drew in a breath and continued. "I still haven't found it," she admitted, "but I found you. I haven't been with family since..." Q couldn't quite remember, actually, and the old head injury definitely didn't help there. That made her wonder whether her inability to actually participate in big game hunts would hurt her chances at acceptance, along with her evident disloyalty. Melkor might be her father, yet she did not simply assume he would look past these flaws.

In fact, he wanted to know what skills she had on offer. Quell knew she had to make a strong case here. "I'm really good at hunting small game. I'm a pretty good tracker," despite the evidence to the contrary, "and I've done some scouting too." The youth paused to think, then realized she'd forgotten to include, "Ah, fishing!" That was mostly thanks to Frolic, who wasn't present. She should probably mention him. "And I have a pet otter and big dick energy," Quell concluded.

Wylla's silent snarl and tense posture disappeared the moment Quellcrist dropped to the ground, replaced by an accepting yet impassive lift of her brows. The display was more intense than Wylla hoped for, but she saw no problem whatsoever with that. The girl regained her feet soon enough but remained crouched. That was enough to completely placate the third Eisen, who took the opportunity while the two conversed to step forward and inspect Q's scent. It was decidedly strange.

Wylla figured out what it was half a second before Quellcrist herself supplied the answer: a pet otter. A pet otter that evidently hung around the young she-wolf enough for her to smell like one. Wylla couldn't help but to scoff. What? Q did realize this was a pack of wolves on the tail end of a famine, right? Bringing her otter friend along seemed like an extraordinarily bad idea. How the hell, wondered Wylla, did she even befriend an otter? It was like asking a pack of Dunk-a-Roos to sign your yearbook.

Number one, said Wylla, are we gonna have to deal with any of these Seabolt folks coming looking for you when you fail to turn up? Number two, this was delivered a little more flatly, and she knew it was a bad question to ask, but Wylla'd never been very good at shutting her stupid mouth, the otter's like, an emergency snack pack, right? Everything else Quellcrist said sounded pretty good. A pack could never have enough hunters. But the otter? Yeah, it'd definitely be eaten if she brought it here. Probably by Wylla herself, if she had half a chance.

seabolt ...he tries to wrack his brain to if it sounds familiar but it doesn't. i haven't found it ...but i found you. something in melkor's chest constricts and his throat tightens with a swell of an emotion he can't presently identify. affection, yes ...but something else. he's never fooled himself into thinking he could replace the mayfair that had taken the role of father to quellcrist — and hadn't tried out of respect for the man that'd had a hand in raising her. regardless, quellcrist stands before him offering him a chance to get to be the father he'd been denied the chance to be — though it was no one's fault such was how things went when one had a one night stand — and of course he's going to take it.

ready to accept her, before she even offers the skills he's asked her for, despite wylla's sound questioning of whether seabolt would show up at their doorstep ...melkor feels jaws part and then close, brow furrowing in confusion as quellcrist tacks on the end a 'pet otter' and big dick energy. would melkor have been capable of choking on his spit he might've. what in the hell was 'big dick energy'? too afraid to ask he pretends like he hadn't heard it though pretending like he hadn't heard about the 'pet otter' was harder, especially when wylla questions that as well.

in truth, it sounds odd to him too; but she was his daughter and it feels wrong to question it. like the equivilent of telling a proud child that their scribbles were not fridge door worthy. ❝if your ...pet must come with you, q, i recommend keeping it close. at all times.❞ and if anyone hurt her trying to get to it ...they'd have to deal with him.

Rather than call her out on her apparent flakiness, the gray she-wolf demanded to know whether the wolves of Seabolt would come after her. Quell snorted. "Nah, they have enough to worry about without sending out a search party. I would like to get word back to them but I'll figure that part out." It wasn't so far that a scouting trip couldn't take care of the report. Any disappointment the leadership might feel over her absconding would likely be erased when she told them where to find the prey.

Speaking of which, Q smirked at the next comment. She was quite used to this behavior being directed at Frolic. Before she could comment on the woman's imaginative phrasing (can I borrow that?), Melkor cut in with a warning. She didn't need to be told that and knew how to keep her small friend safe, even if that meant leaving him back at the creek. But more importantly, her dad had said three key words: "come with you."

"Shwoo, Bob!" the youth exclaimed nonsensically. "Does this mean I'm in?"

She was still reeling over the notion of a pet otter when Quellcrist explained that her former pack had enough on their plate that they wouldn't miss her that much. Q's indifferent approach to the fate of her former pack wasn't promising at all, but aside from that, Wylla couldn't think of any reason to turn her away that wouldn't get Melkor's back up. She pursed her lips. There was nothing for it but to keep a very sharp eye on the yearling. Maybe it was emotion left over from Tiercel's departure, but Wylla would be ready to kick Q's ass to the moon if she up and abandoned her father after pledging to his pack.

Welcome, was all the terse congratulations she had to give before she turned and padded away, leaving father and daughter to get... reacquainted? There was obviously a story there but it was none of Wylla's business, and frankly, she didn't care. If Quellcrist pulled her weight like she said she could, great. If she didn't, she'd find out quick enough that Sagtannet wasn't for slacker hippies, which is what Wylla already assumed she was if she hung around with an otter. And if she left her father as easily as she left Seabolt, she was unlikely to get a second chance at coming back, at least not from the fiery female Eisen.

Until one of those came to pass, she really had no reason to pry into their affairs.

gonna go ahead & wrap this up with my post. <3

welcome,

it is only after q presumably smoothes over wylla's worries and offers his daughter the simple word that wintersbane gives the girl a nod of encouragement. repeating the woman's greeting would be nothing short of repetitive so, wintersbane says simply, ❝i'll give you the tour.❞ and gestures for quellcrist to follow him. when she steps to his side he gives her the tour, pointing out the sub-territories that they had names for currently, explaining the brief history of how sagtannet came to be as they go.