Arrow Lake everybody come hang

@Tahoe for reference (but of course you can join!) and @Kynareth Deagon for perhaps an introductory thread?

They'd traveled up to the mountain. He'd been with McBride for a while now, and while their solitude had been fine for the summer, it was getting cooler out and they'd likely have to rely on a pack, at least for a while. Ale didn't really know when he was planning to leave McBride, but for the moment it seemed to be in his best interests to keep him around. 

Not that he'd developed a soft spot or anything like that. No, sir.

The spotted male approached a pool of standing water. It was nice out, today, warm and sunny. Ale was happy to find the lake, padding up to the bank and lowering his head to drink. Of course, the St. Clair did not let his guard down, ears swiveling back and forth on the lookout for any danger that might be lurking around these parts.

Kynareth lazes about near a thicket of trees a fair distance away from the lake. Here, at Arrow Lake, the man with the brindled mane lies. He comes here often for a multitude of reasons. Yet today it seems like he just came for the nice view, soon to be much more interesting then he previously thought.

He shoulder and neck are propped against the base of one of many, miscellaneous trees that pepper the surrounding area. His heavy lids catch moment and he’s instantly opening them — alert. Now who is that? A fairly feminine figure, spots and dog like markings. Perhaps he (or she) is a mutt too. He offhandedly thinks before standing to approach.

He’s slow in his forth coming, though not suspiciously so. He walks with a confident, yet lazy swagger, sauntering up towards the other. He doesn’t even try to hid himself or the entertained, almost charming, smirk riddling his maw. 

He stops a comfortable distance away, of perhaps 12 feet. “Oh?” He hums in a type of greeting. “Who are you?” He almost purrs, a watchful golden gaze on their form.

Someone was approaching. Not in a stealthy way, or perhaps Alexandre would be more apprehensive about the stranger getting too close. The pace was slow and deliberate, so Ale finished his drink before he raised his head and turned icy gaze toward the stranger. 

He was big. Ale had to tip his head up a bit to meet his gaze, but the spy was undaunted. The bigger the better, he'd always say. Striped fur and a curled tail were memorable markers of this stranger, and Alejandro was immediately interested. 

"Depends on what you wanna call me, sweetheart," he drawled, tipping his head to one side and offering the man a smirk. "I got a few names. Alejandro, Alexandre, Alex, Ale, Baby. Take your pick." Spotted ears flicked forward and he grinned. "Can I have your name, in return?"

A flick of icy hues to his tail, his body. True Donovan is unlike most that seem to live in these lands. This place is filled to the brim with wolves, Something Donovan can only half relate to. Though as this stranger speaks and his nose is able to pull in his scent, he categorized them as a male. Either way, his gender wouldn’t stop him from being interested in the flirtatious words crawling from this man’s lips. 

Of course they interest in turn. His smile showing pearly whites that has to often been stained by the crimson of hot blood. The sweet nickname throws him off, for he hasn’t met someone as brazen as himself in some time. Even the pet names of his true name have Donovan playfully quirking a circular brow at them. 

He chuckles lowly, a rumbling sound that bubbles up past his lips. “Ooh, all of those do sound nice. I’m thinking peaches fits you quite nicely.” He teases back. “Name’s Kynareth. You can call me Donovan, Donnie, kitten, curly, just about anything you can think of.” He jests, copying the first male.

Tahoe's tail swished behind him as he navigated through the loose woodland. Soon, he found his way to the shoreline. Ahead, the lake shone under the sunlight, gentle waves caressing its surface. McBride studied the landscape with a careful eye, planning out his route beforehand. His travelling companion, Alejandro, had adventured far ahead of him. Tahoe had chosen to hang back anyway, taking the time to familiarize himself with his surroundings. He figured he should catch up to the man soon—he had hung back for long enough. With a quiet huff, he hastily stooped for a quick drink before heading out. His tongue relished the cooling sensation of the fresh lake-water, liquid dripping from his jowls as he turned, lumbering off in search of his counterpart.

In roughly under half an hour, he had nearly caught up with Alejandro. He kept his nose to the ground as he ambled along, following the scent trail keenly. Based on how strong the scent was, the light-coated man had to be within sight. Snorting, McBride lifted his head, tattered ears perked as he visually scoured the land. Alejandro's marbled coat stood out starkly against the surrounding terrain. His brow furrowed as he observed the wolf, Ale's attention was clearly focused upon something; or someone. Tahoe searched for the subject, ultimately finding a tall lupine figure which stood nearby. Was this a relative Alejandro had been searching for? Perhaps, but he couldn't be certain. The stranger was a towering form with a unique brownish silhouette. They sure didn't look alike, based on what little he could see. Furtively, he drew nearer for a better view. He halted his advance about a dozen yards away, reaching a suitable post—a hefty, but short shrub which partly concealed him—then quietly sitting in the shadows. If one chose to look, they could find two gleaming yellow eyes staring back at them.

WARNING: suggestive themes

Peaches, huh? Alexandre let out a huff at the nickname and perked his ears, weaving around the massive wolf. Appraising him, keeping his posture loose and slinky, like a cat's. It'd been a while since he had been with someone this large - he'd be able to take him, of course, but it might not be the easiest thing in the world.

"I bet that's what you call all the pretty wolves that come around your neck of the woods," he rumbled, flicking his gaze momentarily to the yellow eyes glinting in the shadows. It wasn't a bad thing that Tahoe was here, but he did have to wonder what his companion might think of him after this. 

Clearing his throat, the marbled man walked back in front of the striped wolfdog, looking up to meet his eyes. "You smell like you've got a pack around here, Ky," he drawled, tipping his head to the side. "Big guy like you? You've gotta have a high rank." Maybe even the leader, from how he postured himself. Though that tail might be from dog heritage, rather than dominance. "You lookin' for new members?" It was a bold question, but... well, he was a bold guy.

He watches the catlike prowess of his stride. A quirk of a circular brow and a gleam of sharp fangs — a quick but teasing smile. “Oh, only to the truly stunning ones, dear.” He hums back pleasantly, a flirtatious growl in his voice. 

Much too fast, the male is chuckling about the questions that are slung his way. Though a potential for the new members interest him. Yet, not unlike him, he believes it to be suspicious. Still, he doesn’t hesitate answering.

“I do, the Saints.” He informs. “Why think that?” Comes his sly reply, slithery like a snake, a jest as to how the other got that idea by how he looks. 

“As for new members, my pack is violent. We have enemies, you sure you can handle that, princess?” He hums sultrily, voice rolling out the words smoothly. Accompanying that, an easy step towards the other, a shameless flirt.

The looming figure isn’t unnoticed by him. His golden eyes flick over to the other wolf. “Who’s your friend?” He whispers curiously then.

He listened to the exchange, expression deadpan—the same as always. He hadn’t known a great deal about Alejandro; the man’s use of language didn’t surprise him, but went down in his mind as a rather interesting note. McBride couldn’t be certain to whether his companion was being serious or not, but then again, that was the beauty of a con. Whatever the case, Alejandro certainly seemed to find a way to get what he wanted. 

The other figure fired back with the same flirtatiousness as Ale, if not more. Tahoe studied the stranger more closely now, the man surely wasn’t a sight to forget. Brindled and brawny, bearing a physique that didn’t exactly strike him as fully lupine. The foreign man’s tail was notably curled against his rump. Tahoe wondered if he held it that way, or if it curled almost naturally. McBride paid less attention to what the foreigner looked like, but instead to what he said. He spoke with an enchanting allure of confidence, audaciously so. The name of his pack—the Saints—only added to his apprehension. The mention of violence and a plethora of enemies did not surprise him. He was unsure if this was a character, or group, he should associate himself with. Tahoe did not care for whatever may have earned the pack such adversaries, but would hate to be caught within a sticky situation. Selfish at heart, he wouldn’t fight another man’s battles. The subtle glances his way by both parties let him know his time eavesdropping was over. 

I didn’t wanna interrupt your little conversation. He woofed, eyeing the two as he traipsed out into the light. Tahoe halted roughly parallel to his familiar, yet still put a yard or two between them. He lifted his gaze and stared the stranger dead in the eyes. His quiet inquiry didn’t go unnoticed. The name’s Tahoe. How long’s your pack been ‘round? ‘Don’t believe I caught your name.

Again, WARNING: some topics of sex

Yeah, yeah, Ale was pretty. He knew that. And he liked flirting - honestly, he did, - but he did not like feeling like he was being analyzed. That was his job, and he didn't enjoy the tables turning. Not when he wasn't gonna immediately get laid afterward. Or do the laying. Either way.

At least make it worth his while. 

The suspicion was creeping in the massive wolf's tone. Why think that? 
"Oh, you know. You just look like the type of guy who likes to be on top." Flippantly, nonchalantly, but with a hint of sensuality. Alejandro had this down to a science. It'd been his job for more than three years, now, and he liked to think he was good at it. He'd figured out a lot about this guy - some things by his looks, other by what he'd said. His name was Kynareth, but he had many nicknames. He had a pack called the Saints. They had a lot of enemies. They were violent. He was flamboyantly not heterosexual. Clearly wolfdog. Most likely highly ranked in his pack. 

Violent. Alexandre was used to violence. "You'd be surprised what I can handle," he responded evenly, a smirk on his maw, and stepped back a bit when Tahoe approached. He'd already been spotted, so he might as well. 

That was an excellent question. How long had the Saints been around? Perhaps they were new, and had already made enemies. If so, they might not be the best option to stick with. He was content to let his companion take the reigns on the conversation for the moment, pleased that he didn't seem absolutely disgusted. For the time being, of course - surely the man could've guessed by this point that Ale was not the most conventional of guys out there. That this was only mostly an act. If they'd been alone, he probably would've taken full advantage of the situation with Kynareth. 

But that was all Alejandro knew. There were always at least two meanings behind everything. Deception was second-nature by now, and for the most part, it was fun. And it always got him what he wanted - or needed, depending. Information was invaluable, and Ale knew precisely how to get it.

The agouti male that was previously stalking in the shadows reveals himself fully to the Saint. Kynareth’s eyes dance along his form interestingly, gathering information by his appearance. Making assumptions only to later see if he is right about them, a fun game he likes to play with himself. He speaks then and Donovan is captivated by his voice, allowing him to talk and in return listen.

He introduces himself and speak of his pack next. “Nice to meet you then, Tahoe. Name’s Kynareth. Yes we’ve only been here a couple months. Fairly new.“ he comments casually. “We hold ourselves with pride and only abide by our own law. That’s why we have enemies. The other packs around here can’t handle somebody doing something different. It’s sad honestly.”

Then as the first wolf delivers his ‘guy that likes to be on top’ comment. Donovan can’t help his reaction. A deep bark of laughter erupts from the alpha’s throat. “Oh, I think you’d be surprised, darling.” He hums referencing his first sentence then moves onto his next with a shake of his head.

“I don’t underestimate wolves. I’m sure you have skill.” He says genuinely. “I’d love to test it out sometime if you’d allow it.” Comes his more suggestive tone.

A tattered ear swiveled toward Alejandro as he spoke, but he regarded the man no further. He wasn't interested in their sappy exchange anyway. What he wanted was information. The stranger—Kynareth—did more than deliver.

"Nice to meet you then, Tahoe. Name’s Kynareth. Yes we’ve only been here a couple months. Fairly new. We hold ourselves with pride and only abide by our own law. That’s why we have enemies. The other packs around here can’t handle somebody doing something different. It’s sad honestly."  Kynareth spoke. 

He had answered Tahoe's inquiry openly, offering more than what he requested. He couldn't tell whether the man was genuinely that open, or hoping to con him into surrendering his trust. His previous suspicions had been confirmed, but his level of concern wasn't through the roof. In the case of his previous pack, all neighbors were considered enemies. Things seemed to operate differently out west, but he couldn't take one man's word to fully base his understanding of the situation. Whatever the case was, he was determined to figure it out. 

I see. That's sad. Sad indeed. He intoned. Tell me then, Kynareth. What're your pack's laws?

This man was all buttery words and sly looks and Alejandro might have been interested if the circumstances were different. As it stood, he was certainly interested, but for information. This was his first con job in months and he was rather enjoying being back in the saddle.

"Yes, Ky, what kind of laws do you have that make you enemies?" he pressed, studying a paw for a moment before looking back up at the brindled man. For the most part, he'd stay quiet for now and let Tahoe do most of the talking.

But it was concerning. How could a set of laws make your pack so many enemies?

Kynareth watches the two, he smiles. What types of laws do they have? Oh, only the best. It almost makes him laugh. “We’re all business, short to the point. We don’t fuck around and these other packs get so hurt by some stern words.” He mock pouts as he briefly describes the packs, but quickly tights himself, prideful smirk in place. “We take what we want, it’s just a matter of how we go about doing it. It’s quite the experience.” He chuckles. “Don’t forget entertainment, we have plenty of that.” He hums with a quirk of his brows.

Then his face goes straight. “On a serious note, I usually do keep my word. If one, or both, of you’d like to find out. Free of charge, a tour of my pack.” He offers to them, a glint of gorgeous yellow eyes. A salesman trying his best.

Tahoe doesn't break eye contact. His yellow gaze remained fixed upon the man, Kynareth, as he spoke. Kynareth spoke with a certain grandeur—an impenetrable wall of confidence—as he described his pack; all business, short to the point. His pack ideals seemed to be a reflection of his personality as well. He couldn't decide whether to categorize him as assertive, or rather cynical. As for the laws, McBride saw no issues, but instead doubted how smooth it all seemed to sound. Surely, the man was oversimplifying things. It was understandable, Tahoe didn't expect for the guy to lay everything out for him. Suspicion would only fester in his mind no matter the situation. He considered Kynareth's offer thoughtfully, brow furrowed—nothing was ever truly free in life.

Usually. McBride pointed out, amused by Kynareth's choice of language on the topic of truth. What's the catch? he went on, then peered toward Alejandro in search of his companion's reaction before delivering a distinctive answer. After all, Alejandro was the one that initally expressed interest in Kynareth. 

His eyes seemingly poised a question: You in?

This guy was... a little too silver-tongued. Alejandro was feeling a little less confident in the decision to stick around here than he had been originally. But the offer to see the pack was very enticing - perhaps he could be coerced into staying if he could see that they weren't a bunch of barbarians. 

He shrugged to Tahoe. He was in if the other man was.

Kynareth watches them with an interested eye. The two share a twin glance and the Grandmaster quirks a cream brow. A sigh then a smile. “Of course I know loyalty can only be earned. I will prove to you then. If I don’t fulfill you’re needs then you may leave. Simple.” Only tell me before you do or you might end up like Praimfaya and Renard. He wants to say, but for obvious reasons doesn’t.

Other than that, he sits pretty and awaits an answer.

Exit unless stopped!

Contrary to his assumption, Alejandro didn't seem to answer with much conviction. His brow furrowed at this, realizing the decision was in his hands. A choice of such weight wasn't to be taken lightly. Kynareth seemed like a half decent guy—someone hardened by the unforgiving elements of the world around him. He had a point with loyalty, but Tahoe didn't think he'd ever be able to devote his trust to such a controversial character, and trust was a big thing. The question was about if he'd be willing to theoretically sacrifice his life for the man one day, and the answer was no. Perhaps it was crude of him to make such a decision so early on, but he didn't have the time to later change his mind. Based on the information he had learned, it wasn't in his best interest to join a group with so many enemies anyway. Putting himself in such a situation in itself was not ideal. McBride had spent the entirety of his existence putting up with unfavorable company—he didn't feel inclined to continue that streak. In another life, he might've accepted the offer. If Alejandro wanted to join the gang, that was his choice alone. 

Not my thing. He rumbles finally, unbeholden to giving further explanation. With a brief nod and languid turn, he's gone.

This was likely the last time Alexandre would ever see McBride. Neither of them really trusted this guy, but with everything that had happened during this meeting, it felt as though his time with his traveling companion was over as well. It had been a good partnership, and Alejandro appreciated it deeply, even if he might not say it out loud. Pale eyes watched Tahoe as he turned to leave. 

"See ya, McBride," he called after him, then looked back to Kynareth. "I appreciate your offer, but I'm not really up to the task of fighting half the packs around here. But I do wish you good luck in your endeavours."

The spotted man waved his tail once and turned, heading east.

Im going to go ahead and archive this in about a day. DM me on discord or on WOLF if you want me to leave it open for you two to post.

Kynareth’s swears he almost had ‘em, but better safe than sorry. He doubts these two could even survive in the Saints let alone like it. So a string of laughter comes from his barreled chest. “Suit yourselves.” He teases. “Nice meeting you two. Don’t get in too much trouble now.” Comes his rolling voice, smooth and playful as he turns to walk off.