Stone Circle clean the stables of king augeas

the labors of hercules — ingram edition part five.

there is no thoughts in the cloudy morning besides finding a pack to shack up with.

probably temporarily given his ... penchant for chaos.

the lack of thinking is evident in his ultimate choice, as he approaches the borders of kvarsheim.

he does not consider that they likely know of his bridges burned.

his steps slow upon his approach to their borders, well-versed in the processes of attempting to join.

he leaves a respectful distance between their scent markers and his body before tipping his head back and calling for leadership ( @Gunnar, @Taktuq, @Tauris ).

They arrive seemingly every week, these travel-worn souls on the doorstep with their minds full of nothing but rest, convalescing new wounds and old ones. Or perhaps a ‘sudden predisposition’ for the spirits that attend the seer stones.

Carved in her own image, she supposes it’s with communion she should greet this country’s downtrodden; tricky, but meaning no harm. No more than the wily thief who haunts her steps here.

Quiet is a remnant so far gone, not even when the moon hangs in half-sphere above the head of a silvering visitor, who at least is respectful enough to draw room between himself and their scentposts as he seeks for them.

She will draw forth with the kind of wariness she’s learned is due to strangers, particularly one so dark and lofty in the cut of night light, and whose piercing cerulean stare is about all she can make of him. She appraises him with her own silver leer, tracing up to his ears and back down before flicking her tail cautiously.

“State your business with Kvarsheim.”

a woman approaches; her coat made of shadows and silvers — at least at the distance betwixt them.

to the cautious holding of her body, ingram keeps a neutral one; deferring to her authority upon these borders with a lower of his chin.

i have come seeking a home, if you have the room. of course, he knows the usual questions that would follow: name, skills ... the standard; but he has never been a fan of rushing the due process.

She slips forward slowly. Something in his worldly tenor and measured speech tell her to tread carefully. Or perhaps it is the muscles of his chest that can so easily command control that persuades caution.

But not enough of it from her, who sees the clear value in the aid of this strong stranger. And she does not think Gunnar nor Taktuq would disagree. Though his presence has incited an idea, one he may find mutually rewarding if she can phrase it right.

She loops around him once, more to see his reaction than judge anything else, but she is surprised to find youth still in his face as she returns to align their eyes.

“What is your name, traveler? And how do you propose to contribute to the upkeep of our pack?”

name. what he contributes.

simple. expected.

and yet ... never simple enough.

for a wild moment, ingram considers giving a moniker. osiris, perhaps. the name slithers its way into his mind like a mighty king cobra; the snap of a jackal's jaws.

but in the end, exhaustion at playing all of these roles: of lending himself as the mouthpiece of gods — too many gods; gods of whom he is still loyal and gods he has spurned — he speaks the truth, my name is ingram.

i harbor many talents ... i am a skilled warrior, a speaker of the will of gods, reader of fates in the bones, he trails off for a moment. i can be whatever kvarsheim needs.

“Your gods are your own. There is no organized religion here,” she asserts, quick to dissuade the sermons he may be looking to preach. The alphas may have been more receptive to his words, but she did not fancy an extremist zealot running amuck in their ranks, and something in his phrasing fails to sit well with her.

And yet, a warrior to keep their borders. With Germanicus so frequently far afield, they were quite vulnerable to outside- and inside- predations.

“Kvarsheim has many mouths to feed. Too many,” she declares, and more still with Taktuq and Inkeri’s litters on the way… and perhaps her own, though she could not be sure of that yet. Her tail gives a little lift.

“But between you and me, Ingram, I’ve got a real nuisance on my paws. Someone I need chased out of this pack. Do so and I will speak highly of you to the alphas- and you’ll have his den space for your own.”

Her eyes search his for an accord.

with her words, ingram is fine and does not take them personally despite the assertion she places heavily behind them. then i offer my skills as warrior singularly.

he was not a fan of pushing religion upon anyone ... however, that did not mean he would not practice simply because there was no organized religion within.

she speaks of many mouths to feed — too many, she states — and he studies her, picking apart her words and the bizarre offer she presents to him.

without a moral compass to leave an acrid taste in his mouth at the idea of chasing someone out to earn her accolades ... ingram is far from opposed to the idea. in fact, it sounds like it's rather right up his alley; though there was the sting of the words he construes in what she does not say: that if he didn't ... or refused, would she deny him access? speak poorly of him?

is it conditional that if i refuse you will see that i am not welcomed? he inquires, out of curiosity and nothing else. her answer, he would weigh.

besides being a nuisance ... what have they done to deserve being expelled from pack borders? and though he does not ask it, why hadn't the alpha(s) done so already?

“He’s stuck his nose where it doesn’t belong,” she suggests vaguely with ire upon the tongue.

“There are pups soon to be born here. He’s a man I’d rather not have around when that happens.” He might have had Gunnar and Taktuq vouching for his glittering character, but she saw him for the irredeemable layabout he truly was.

“Refuse, and I will take you to the alphas. They will grant you a fair appraisal, your entry to the pack is based on their discretion,” she explains. She will not lead him off for his refusal. Neither will she lie and taint his name, nor bolster it, for he stands before her now as a cannon that was likely to swing one way or the other, and she could not be certain which direction that was.

“Though an endorsement from their beta might tip the scale.”

Gunnar had heard the call and he was slow to it. Not because he felt the need to be, but rather simply because he wasn't feeling up to moving fast. He came upon the heel end of the conversation and tilted his ears. Body tired, but he was feeling fairly well for the day. The warmer weather did him wonders honestly.

An endorsement from our beta for what? Was his question.

There was an underlying tension to the meeting and his tail swiftly went over his back and his hackles raised a bit.

Was Tauris brokering deals at the borders for entry? That didn't sit well with the elder and he shifted. Suddenly his scars hitting the sunlight and his stocky figure tightening. What was going on in the pack lands of late?

her answer to his inquiry about the one she wishes to be chased from the pack borders is ... decidedly vague. the man she speaks of is, according to her: nosy and not one that she trusts around the cubs to come.

it is in the iron guardian's nature to wish to pry, to delve down into her reasons of why she feels this way... because she hadn't really told him much of anything. there were plenty of wolves in the world who'd benefit from minding their own business but he ingram wonders if that is reason enough to let himself become her pawn.

to shoulder the punishment as a potential recruit while she already had the position as beta behind her.

you are beta, as you say ... why not chase him off yourself? would your alpha's not believe your reasons to be good?

again, he offers no inclination on whether he accepts or not: simply trying to gain more clarity in lieu of the mirky vision she paints for him.

if he is suspicious it is only because his considerations are what ingram himself would do: cloak himself in power and use the pawns at his disposal to do his dirty work.

a twitch of his ear, diversion of his gaze to the elder that approaches.

scarred muzzle lowers, but he does not answer for he believes the elder's question is not aimed at him.

She’s sure the confidence flees her stance, tail lowering and ears dipping immediately in respect of the familiar voice that booms behind her. She’s wracked with guilt and utterly deceitful in that moment as she turns to greet Gunnar with a gentle push of reverent nose to his shoulder.

But this is for you, too. For the protection of your cubs. For Kvarsheim.

She returns her focus to the strange man, recovering coolly even as her chest coils tight like a snake choking her ribs.

“Ingram, here. A keeper of gods and prophecies,” she introduces with slight waver upon her voice.

“And of borders, perhaps. I was thinking with Germanicus routinely at range, another Kappi could be useful. He is looking to join us.” She dips her head and stands aside for Faðir to make his determination.

Her eyes flick to Ingram’s impassive stare, waiting for him to call her out- or keep her in confidence.

Gunnar's brow was raised at thr males name given. And he felt a tightening in his stance.

You once belonged to Riverclan and called a female cousin of mine whom my mother raised yours. And then left.

it was mere statement letting the man know he knew him. And though part of him wanted to rail in fury. Ash Paw had told him they had left on amicable terms so he had no reason to cull.

Gunnar shifted. Very well let me ask. Are you a recorder of religions or a prophet?

Gunnar also asked. How fair of a hunter are you? As that will be a task we will need. And borders can always be kept, this is good. I do not deal in lies and cruelty and we are family here. This means you do your level best to help those in it and for the better of it.

she deflects the elder's question, shifting the conversation smoothly to ingram himself. if the elder notices, he does not say. still, ingram can appreciate the smooth operation of the woman and does not speak up upon the deal she'd intended to make.

it didn't appear to matter anymore, with the alpha's presence.

...and it wasn't his place to tattle; nor was it his nature.

though it was, apparently, in the nature of ash paw.

soft annoyance and irritation slithers thru him, the words that feel like an accusation. how his ex-relationships was anyone else's business — and it seemed his past was juicy gossip for this part of the wilds, first with the man from silvercreek asking him about the listener and now this.

did they gossip about all their other wolves? about their personal affairs, he cannot help but wonder bitterly.

sometimes, relationships don't work out. i didn't leave without explanation. is all he has to say for himself, though he feels he owes no explanation to a stranger, related to ash paw or not. better they be separated than constantly fight with one another.

i am more of an oracle, he doesn't necessarily like the word of 'prophet', though that was what speaker of a gods' will was ... oracle sounded a little less arrogant. but i have known many religions in my life, so recorder could also be.

he gives a small pause. but my religion is mine own, a look spared to the beta, remembering her words. i will not share it with any that do not ask to know of it.

the word family turns his stomach a bit, never having had much of one. it stirs old memories of resentment that have never fully healed despite that praimfaya has been gone for many years now, and his bridges with mahler and heda were thoroughly burned.

it's never been a trade of interest, but i can hunt well enough to help where needed.

Faðir’s delivery is meant for the haunting-eyed oracle, but it passes through her chest, an arrow appropriately placed- and perhaps he’d known it to some degree. It’s a forced introspection of who she is willing to become. Bargaining with strange border men; one mess undone yet another raised.

Lies. Family. Help.

Her exhale is a flush of shame as Ingram relays her words. She glances Gunnar’s way, who knows the man’s a drifter from Riverclan and a deserter of his cousin there. Still, he considers there’s an opportunity. It brings to mind what he’s told her before, that mistakes are made by everyone. His is a sincere act of forgiveness. A leader by example. She swallows and she returns a look to Ingram

Gunnar raised a brow. I am well aware. And she told me as much. The wolf Almalexia is wanted for crimes committed against our wolves. And as a leader it was her duty to relay anything she knew and thus also her relationship with you. And I know that Ash Paw is not without her, moments. But it is also important that you know of me and what I know of you. Yes. So there are no surprises.

The elder listened and said nothing. There was something about this wolf that he didn't trust. And it maybe the simple fact that he disliked wolves that left a family behind. Like his real father had done. His father the man he called dad had stepped up and it had been blissful for a time until he too was gone, but not of his own volition.

I don't like lies and I will not have anyone in this pack treated poorly. If you have an issue I ask that you come to me and I will mediate a meeting. I tell everyone this. IF you can promise to hunt for us and treat us well. You can have entry. Your religion you are more than welcome to share if someone asks and you wish too. Please bear in mind that the stone circle is considered sacred. Bones of important ancestors lay there.

a leader's duty to relay her relationship? and his past without his consent? ingram would swiftly disagree; but settles on pressing his lips into a terse line instead.

nothing could be done about it. ash paw had laid his past bare for everyone in the nearby area to know about it and the damage was already carved out like the teeth marks of his threadbones.

they could not be hidden, could not be forgotten.

i understand.

An agreement and she considers the two men, Ingram stone-faced yet favorable in his strength if he meant to employ it for the good of the pack. Gunnar, an unfaltering resilience yet set upon an air of caution, and rightly so. She dips her head to the man called the oracle but awaits Faðir’s decision- to chance this man, or not.

Welcometo Kvarsheim. and that was that. He'd move to let them pass. A brief unease skittering up his spine. But he would watch until the other showed him he couldn't be trusted if he ever did. He maybe a great addition.