Snowforest Taiga i'll see you again

@Warlock <3

He finds a pack south of the river, to his delight and dismay; an odd mix of feelings, but they always are. The sun is starting to set by the time he feels confident enough to inspect the scent markers more closely, casting a warm glow over the landscape that seems to clash with the cool-toned onset of winter, leaving the wilds awash in greys and faint purples as the light fades. The ice wraith drifts through the gloom with a casual air, a bright silver wisp against the land from a distance. A cautious gap lingers between the ghost and the packlands he haunts, closing with each passing minute that he goes undiscovered. He has no intention of trespassing, but he intends to uncover the full scope of this pack before he departs.

Warlock headed to the border on the trail of a moose that had recently traipsed through his home. It had lingered around and enjoyed browsing before now heading out towards the north hours before. It wasn't too likely they were going to hunt the moose right now -- he was pretty sure Arbiter would prefer some greater numbers of wolves -- but he wanted to keep an eye on it just in case it got sick or something. If it died, free food, duh.

He loped forward up to the border and slightly past, nostrils flaring as he scanned the far distance for any sign of a large brown blob moving along. Not within sight, seemed like. Oh well. Maybe it'd come back. He shook out his fur, turned, and that's when he spotted a silver figure going along the territory line. Warlock's ears pricked forward. Uh. They hadn't called, had they? For a moment he wondered if it was a child -- oversized ears and small size, after all -- but on second glance that didn't seem quite right. He turned and trotted that way to intercept. For once, he wasn't absolutely terrified of the stranger -- even though Warlock still often thought of himself as smaller than he was, he was undoubtedly bigger and that made him feel kind of safe at least. Hey, was his incredibly neutral call.

The call breaks through his thoughts, and he turns with ears perked to find — a very pretty boy. Close to his age, cloaked in contrasting colors, eyes even more striking against his colorless fur. It's well established by now that Zephyr has two types: terrifying beasts, and pretty boys. This one falls firmly into the latter category. Hi, He says, halting and watching the other approach. It's obvious he lives here. Who are you? What is this pack?

The creature that approached was completely befuddling -- a mix of features that called both danger and child. Like some sort of warped nightmare of his younger siblings while he was scared of them. When features drifted from what was normal wolf, he expected them to be soft -- that's how Pheiros was at least -- not sharp. Unlike the one facing him down, he couldn't place an age, at least not right this instant. 

About all he could figure out was they were female and definitely not someone in the pack. They hadn't called, either. Warlock was just left with too many questions, which almost put him right back where he'd normally be -- just confused not scared. Um. I'm Warlock. This is Legion -- my mom runs this pack. Uh. Are you looking for something? He'd been doing a bit better about being able to talk without a bunch of ums, but apparently here he regressed.

The boy seems confused, but nice enough, so he answers him as readily as he'd received answers himself. I'm just curious about the packs around here, He tells him, gaze wandering behind the other boy as he steps forward to get a better look past the border. My name is Zephyr. I'm traveling with my friend and my mother right now. What's Legion like?

Should he be stopping them from stepping closer to the border? He kind of thought it would be ridiculous for someone to sprint off right now into the territory when Warlock was right there but then again there was always the option that Zephyr was crazy or something. Warlock was definitely a smidgen paranoid though -- but that was generally how he ended up surviving without a scratch. Well, a lot of it is my family? But my mom's all about making people improve, about loyalty and working together and stuff. With things sort of split so people aren't competing if they have super different interests. A pause, I think I explain it differently each time. But either way a lot of us have been together a long time. It's quiet and we keep to ourselves mostly. Warlock really needed a better sales pitch, it had probably drifted significantly from how Arbiter had explained it ages ago.

The boy gives a brief rundown of the pack — it doesn't sound like a terrible place, but a little boring. He's far more interested in Warlock himself. What do you do in the pack? He asks, gaze flitting over him with unmasked curiosity. It's the best he can come up with right now, but he's certain he'll have more questions once he gets more out of the other.

Now he definitely wasn't a fan of suddenly the spotlight being turned right on him -- it basically never was, he was easy to overlook, and despite being tall, he never tried to metaphorically take up space. One ear flipped slightly back, though he was trying to not show his discomfort. He was not a good liar. Uhh. Hunting? I sometimes watch my little siblings or do other stuff to help mom. I've tried going scouting for recruits and stuff but I'm not great at it. Gee. Maybe if you were better at talking about everything, Warlock and not so easily distracted by other random things that aren't as important! There were plenty of things he didn't share, that he wouldn't say. Um. Why you asking? because that was all he could think of saying without feeling like he suddenly got a target painted on him.

His question seems to make Warlock nervous — not at all what he'd intended. As the other boy speaks, his ears fold back slowly, not all the way but enough to show that he's noticed the anxiousness and isn't pleased by it. He shrugs in response to the question that follows, a little deflated now. I dunno. You're cute, He says, as if that explains everything. If I'm bothering you, I can go.

Just about everything made him nervous, honestly. If Zephyr knew him better, that bit would be immensely clear. So his behavior so far wasn't out of the ordinary for him. Look, he was supposed to be the only one uncomfortable here! And he wasn't cute that was silly! He was just Warlock. And Warlock being Warlock also meant he was probably spending too much time fretting over things he couldn't change (and things that might happen) to think much about anything else. So somehow someone thinking he was somehow attractive was also kinda terrifying to think about because it had never been anywhere close to the surface of his consciousness. I-- I, uh-- The whole thing was honestly very confusing. So, Warlock sort of gave up and gawked, jaw hanging open, not really sure what to say in response. A certain part of him was like "hmm, just run, running is always an option" but right now he just stood there kind of deer-in-headlights.

Apparently that wasn't the right thing to say. Zephyr frowns slightly as he watches Warlock stammer, confused and a little concerned he's missing something. Um. Did I upset you? He asks after a moment, ears flat now. He's never gotten this kind of response before.

Was it a joke? Look, none of it made sense, ok? that was about the thing that made the most sense was that this person was totally making a joke! Because anything else was kinda scary, honestly. So what he said in return kind of went to both points, I-- I don't know what you're talking about, he finally managed to choke out after a few more stutters. Sometimes that phrase might be said with disgust but not in this case -- still confusion all around. Come on, they were just pulling his leg, right?

Warlock continues to express confusion, adding a hint of frustration to the situation. Zephyr tries to stifle it in favor of figuring out exactly what is going on — it seems like the best place to start. What do you mean? Haven't you ever gotten a compliment before? He asks, figuring that's the most likely reason this turned into a mess. He can relate to that, at least.

What was he supposed to say to that? Zephyr was just doing tons of things that he didn't understand and by tons that actually means like two things but that might as well be tons for a wolf as skittish as Warlock. N--no, I'm not cute. You're just -- just saying stuff. He shifted uneasily, apparently not frozen to the ground any more, but not sure what to do now. This was a particularly unfamiliar situation. Thus he should totally freak out internally. That was the normal reaction, quite obviously!

You're just — just saying stuff. Is this guy serious? Zephyr blinks, unsure how to react to being accused of lying about something so trivial. Why would I do that? He asks, annoyed now that he's gotten a chance to think about it more. Ok this post is done you're welcome Jennifer.

But the better question was why would they say that in the first place? War was just some stranger. It didn't make sense to him, and strangers were weird so he wasn't going to promise they had his best interests at heart. I dunno, but people do! Maybe it's funny or something -- but I'm not falling for that, ok? He shifted uneasily then, wondering if he should leave or... something. It wasn't like he knew what to do in a situation like this. Running off still sounded good.