Broken Antler Fen and every day is getting straighter,

at three years of age, or nearly so, arcturus was learned enough about the world to note the change of the season — and the implication it aroused within him.

certainly it was not just the fresh lilt of birdsong that quickened his pulse, nor the flowery dew of new blossoms on the wind. it was the scent that accompanied these springtime blooms; of womanhood while he went without.

soured by his misfortune and recent loss, arcturus picked along the babbling brook which wound its way through brechelaint. here the scents were thin and misty — and an idle quiet settled over the gloaming woods which left arcturus feeling more lonesome than ever.

There was a boredom and sameness that caused his days to blur together. Tambourine didn't mind it one bit. As a matter of fact, he loved it. He had never gotten so much good sleep in his life, nor had the chance to enjoy life's simplest pleasures, like sniffing the same flower more than once. Life was good! Life was great!

It was a little too kind to him, in the sense that he could feel he'd put on some weight since arriving in Brecheliant. Today, he set out to get in some brisk exercise by running laps around the fen. He hoped he might run into someone—figuratively, not literally—as he made his rounds.

He was in luck! "Hey-o!" he called to the black wolf standing beside a brook.

EDITED

When he caught sight of the obsidian figure, he found himself wondering- 

Is this the Penn Blackthorn Wraen warned me about?

And his first reaction, to that possibility, was to gulp. This guy was...Well, a lot more than he'd imagined Penn to be. For some reason- perhaps because Wraen had called him young but Jackalope imagined Penn to be little more than a scraggly yearling. Like how he'd been, only perhaps a bit shorter, and with the signature Blackthorn dorsal stripe. Like a sculpted stone, though the male he caught sight of as he meandered along the borders looked as though he'd been cut and carved from dark stone, by stone, the way a boulder would be broken into shape as it tumbled down the mountainside. The way all that remained was the toughest part, that survived all of the impacts that hit it. 

And if this guy was a Blackthorn, then it meant that of the two of them, Jackalope was definitely putting the family to shame. He would have straightened up his posture had he only begun to do so several years ago- by now, his neck was so stiff, and his shoulders to used to being hunched that he looked like some sort of lizard breaking free from its shedding skin whenever he tried to straighten up. So he didn't. But he did try to wipe some of the envious gleam from his eyes, and told himself that perhaps this guy wasn't to be his standard after all. He'd have to find out. 

"You're not the Blackthorn I've heard about, are you- huh?" He called out. At first, he thought that his voice had cracked- but he realized a moment later that he'd called out either at the same time- or if not, then slightly after- a rather cheery, silvery fellow. He was everything Jackalope should have been- aside from the fact that his fur was a bit ruffled in places, and his ears were slightly soft, allowing them to tulip and bend slightly. But there was still something significantly more upbeat about him than there was to the hunched Jackalope, who now began to wonder if Wraen hadn't been pulling his leg all along. Where were all the pretty women she'd told him about? And why hadn't she warned him that every other male in the pack was significantly better looking than him? This was a disappointment.

now came two of brecheliant’s most esteemed bachelors to the sunless spot arcturus resided; a glance to each and he did a soft double take. in coat color and eye hues alone they seemed to each be one another’s peer — but there were trademarked differences that subtly boasted their individuality.

the first to hail arcturus reminded him of the stature of wolves he had espied along the coast — ruffed and rugged, were it not for the flopped ear, and soft girdling of flesh that rounded his belly. his fur was disheveled — almost winsomely so, and his eyes boasted a warmth that defied the glacial hues which encapsulated them.

further, the second male to arrive bore no tail in which to salute his advances. arcturus noted this, and the bent of his strong muzzle, as a wolf accustomed to scrapes and conflicts. perhaps this male was arcturus’ peer — all the same, he could not help the sinking jealousy in his heart to behold not one, but two bachelors that might vie for his position in wraen’s heart.

to the first male, arcturus signaled acknowledgement with a wave of his tail. to the second, his brow darkened in confusion before it lifted — nay, he was no creature from blackthorn’s ilk. his lineage, as it stood, fared no better than snow during a summer day — it was all but dead and bled into the thirsty ground. no. arcturus briefly wondered what great exploits penn had done to earn such a preceding reputation. my name is arcturus — and you two?

The party of one became a party of three in a heartbeat. The more, the merrier! Tambourine thought cheerfully as he came to a stop and turned to regard his grayscale fellow. Whereas he himself had a floppy ear and missing toes, his apparent brother from another mother had crooked features and an abbreviated tail. Tambourine woofed and wagged his tail hard, glad to come across two pack mates at once.

He thought of Wraen's description of her entourage, wondering who was who. Then Arcturus solved part of that mystery by offering his name. Solemn and contemplative, indeed, mused Tambourine, having noted a sort of melancholic look in his eye. He's royalty! he also remembered, silver eyes widening a fraction as he dipped his head.

"Nice to meet you both! I'm Tambourine, Tam for short," he introduced slightly breathlessly, gaze then shifting to their third comrade. He had inquired about a Blackthorn, which meant he probably wasn't one of the two Wraen had mentioned (besides Eljay, who he'd met). Was this Khali then? He managed to straighten both ears as he waited to find out.

Jackalope tried not to look too satisfied, in learning that neither of the males were Penn. Perhaps there was potential that Penn could be still an unfortunate-looking creature, so that at least Jackalope wasn't the absolute ugliest creature in the pack. Then, he'd even be able to call himself the best-looking-Blackthorn which wasn't much of a title, and was only one step above getting the silver spoon, but a guy like him would have to take what he could get.  With other, handsomer men in the pack, he'd have to work twice as hard to get female attention with his personality which...Was far fetched, to say the least. And Jackalope never liked having to put any more effort into anything than the absolute minimum. 

Arcturus seemed somewhat standoffish- or perhaps he'd just been surprised to be accosted by two strangers at once. Tam was perky and had a wide grin that made Jackalope keenly aware of the way his own lips were constantly pulled down at the edges. They both looked to him for a moment and he regarded them blankly, as though he didn't know what an introduction was. Sometimes, it was fun just messing with others, so he allowed their expectant pause to last just a little longer than what might've been comfortable. He'd used the same technique on Mal, and he thought that it had helped his former alpha lower the expectations he had of Jackalope. He liked to lean, hard, into establishing himself as the local weirdo. That way, he'd be left alone. 

His answer was accompanied by a shrug, as though he was relinquishing valuable information after having been begged for it. "Jackalope."

tamborine’s mein was more welcoming than that of his comrades — both of whom appeared rather standoffish in their demeanor. arcturus reflected on the wide smile and open nature of his peer — what life events had lead to tamborine’s genial countenance, while he remained formed of an unwelcoming bent?

certainly tam’s introduction went more smoothly than jackalope’s: arcturus waited patiently, noticing the different rhythm in which this fellow marched to. it reminded him of his brother revui — and perhaps unkindly, arcturus mentally assigned him in the same category in terms of mental ingenuity.

no surname provided from each of them: were they vagrants, or were they self-exiled like he? his lip twitched as a silence fell between them that he was not entirely unaccustomed to. were wraen here she might have brightened the mood in some way, drawing these three unlikely strangers closer — but arcturus had only ever been a fumbling marksman, and his pains to restore this gathering quickly foundered.

well met, then. arcturus finally imposed, allowing his gaze to travel back to the brook. now he knew the marks and scents of his comrades — gods only hoped neither became his competition.

Oh! Tambourine thought when he realized his mistake. So this was one of the Blackthorns, after all, a carefree and mischievous sort according to Wraen. They would probably get along well, although Tambourine had happily crossed off "adventurous" from his own list of descriptors lately. And "rambunctious" probably didn't apply much anymore either, although...

"Would you gents like to race?" he pitched, apropos of nothing, still a little winded from his run. "Winner gets..." Well, he wasn't sure of a good prize. His silver eyes bounced between Arcturus and Jackalope, brow lifting invitingly. Might one of them have a good suggestion?

"Well met, then." It seemed that his antics were at least going to be tolerated, if not complimented somewhat, which nevertheless threw Jackalope for a bit of a loop. He'd been hoping for a bit more of a reaction, maybe just skeptical looks or something from his new packmates, but neither of them chose to speak up and interrupt the silence he'd made them give him. Neither even showed much disdain that he'd begged for their patience. So they were either half-decent at hiding judgement, or they simply didn't care enough to judge him. How boring, he thought. He thought at least he might get a bit of a rise out of either of them. 

The suggestion that they race made Jackalope snort- but due to the compromised nasal passage of his bent muzzle, the sound he made was almost like a mini trumpet. "Nnnnnope." He'd met a couple of his packmates, and felt he'd sized them up well enough. "I'm gonna go do useless stuff, but not the sort of useless stuff that's gonna waste my energy," He said, with a tone that was ironically light and pleasant. He gave them both a very squinty smile. "Later, my dudes," He said. The smile dropped almost immediately, and he turned to walk away.

arcturus hadn’t found jackalope’s pausing odd — but, in retrospect, this was the perspective of a silent boy who had grown into an even quieter man. speech had never been his wheelhouse, and even now when he spoke his words could occasionally slip past him.

he was not sure of which to react to first: the suggestion to race, or the noise issued from jackalope’s about. surely arcturus’ impression of how preposterous he viewed the suggestion was written clearly on his face: him, race?

what was he, a child?

he didn’t snort, but his expression pretty much filled in the blanks clearly. watching jackalope decline the offer and slink off, arcturus turned to tambourine.

no. arcturus declined, his tone brooking no apology or quarter. a waste of energy better spent elsewhere. he rose to leave, wanting no part in childish games — and every bit the wet blanket that tambourine was the life of the party.

They both declared his idea a waste. Tambourine was a little taken aback by their bluntness, especially when they each departed without another word. Another wolf might've felt discouraged and he wasn't totally impervious; he was admittedly a little bummed that they hadn't countered his offer with something else, giving him a chance to get to know them better. They were all pack mates, after all, and Tambourine would love to get to know everybody here.

But he shrugged it off otherwise. He would love to be friends with everybody but he was old enough to know that certainly wasn't realistic, no matter how idyllic this place seemed in some ways. "Suit yourselves," Tambourine said more to himself than to either of them, a slight chuckle in his tone as he literally rolled his shoulder. He then turned and resumed his jog. It would've been more fun to have company but he was happy to do it solo too.