Ouroboros Spine There are things in life you learn

Her discussion with Mordecai was brief, but telling. The prime male wasn't from the far reaches of the north like Sialuk herself, but seemed to share the age old territorial nature of their kind. She explained to him that she was an angakkuq, and learned that the Ouroboros Spine was in need of a replacement for their former shaman. Fortunately for both of them, the details of Lecter's twisted craft didn't come to light, for Sialuk considered herself a pure and true example of what a shaman was meant to be.

She'd had a few hours to settle. The extent of this was choosing a suitable place to bed in the coming nights. She chose a clearing in the trees, where the sky peeked through the spires of the conifers and where the stars and aurora, should it appear, would be visible. Sialuk preferentially slept outdoors, and she knew she would do so when the wind drove snow into the bowl-like valley; this area was muggy compared to the dry, frigid tundra.

She had just settled herself on her stomach in the centre of the clearing when the snapping of a twig drew her attention. Sialuk's ears tilted forward as she combed the underbrush with her eyes... but whatever caused the disturbance didn't show itself.

Sitri had gotten in the habit of staying on the outskirts of the pack territory and away from his pack mates. It was such a moment that he came across a new pack mate. He studied her from the shadows, his fur matted with the small amount of blood that still oozed from his wounds. He wasn’t keeping them very clean that was for sure, and he found he didn’t care. As long as they didn’t fester, he was alright. She was a white wolf, with splashes of color across her shoulders. It was an unusual contrast and one he was studying between the shadows and the light.

He had come to realize the recent events had indeed unhinged him almost to the point of complete madness, but he wasn’t quite yet on the precipice. He moved and a twig broke, and it was then that he realized she would have heard that and with a sorrowful look around at his hiding place. He stepped from the shadows a hulking beast, littered with his scars and his matted, bloody fur. Red eyes moved rapidly around the clearing finally coming to a roving stop on the white she wolf in front of him.

He didn’t move, though his shoulders quivered slightly, he wasn’t even sure if he could talk without his voice sounding raspy and hoarse. Hello. He all but whispered and quickly averted his eyes from the female before him, not wishing to anger anyone until he was healed.

Her gaze remained suspiciously on the thick undergrowth and, sure enough, there emerged an onlooker. The wolf was a large male, his chocolate coat broken by all manner of jagged scars. His eyes were a frightening shade of red and danced around the clearing like he had something to fear. Drawing the conclusion that he was sneaking around and possibly trespassing from his nervous behaviour, Sialuk slowly rose to her paws and drew her lips back into a warning growl. There was no aggression, only territoriality.

Her fur prickled uncertainly as she took a slow, deliberate step toward Sitri. He dwarfed her and had clearly been in enough scraps to hold his own should it come to blows, but Sialuk believed she was in the right, and believed in the power of a wolf's instincts. She expected one of two outcomes: if Sitri was a trespasser, then it was likely he would flee before she had cause to call the pack. If Sitri was not a trespasser, but rather a suspicious and shady pack mate, then Sialuk suspected he would submit adequately enough and long enough for her to determine his status by inspection.

Sitri laid his ears back, but red eyes met her blue ones. Please don't growl at me. Sitri's been here longer and is higher than you. You smell of Mordecai, so clearly you are a spine pack mate? Sitri shook once his shoulders back to his tail, dust and leafs falling form his pelt. He was suspicious by nature and it was more predominant now that he had felled a pack mate, though in his mind she had deserved it.

He shifted his weight and sat down, hoping to ease her territorial instincts even more. He didn't much blame her, and he had tried to remember the manners that Tyrande had taught him. Though there were some blank spaces where some of those lessons should be. It was a shame really, he had been doing well. Hopefully in time he would remember or another wolf would help him to learn.

Sialuk was reminded of her place. It wasn't needed, for she knew she was the newbie, but it allowed her to relax somewhat. She couldn't necessarily trust his word, and rarely put trust in others at all, but he hadn't run or made any other skittish movements. She assumed from this alone that Sitri had a place in this pack, strange behaviour aside.

When his eyes found hers, they stilled their rapid shifting, and Sialuk breathed out slowly. Her ears tilted back and her hair fell flat. She didn't curl her tail under—he presented no extreme dominance and she perceived no aggression—but it did lower to press firmly against her thighs in active deference. "Forgive me," she said in a tone that, while cold and formal, was genuine. "I question the intent of all who approach without confidence on claimed soil. You would be correct."

Certainly, Sialuk couldn't judge Sitri, and she didn't. Judging by the looks of him, he had a closet full of skeletons and demons to boot. It wasn't her place to question him aside from the usual territorial defensiveness she showed. The angakkuq's job was ordinarily to assist others in dealing with their problems, but as she wasn't yet established, she didn't make any motion to do it formally, but she did ask, "why do you present yourself as suspicious?"

[size=x-small]If she was trying for counselor she could probably get her trade on sitri's past alone lol[/size]

Sitri did not expect her to believe him, and he had been coiled ready to be set upon. She however deferred to his words and she too backed up. For that he was appreciative. He did not think he would survive another fight so soon after the other one. He had barely survived that one to be honest, and it was still touch and go. He was still waiting to die in his sleep from fever or blood loss.

Sitri shrugged No forgiveness needed, don’t blame you. He tilted tattered ears forward, to catch her words. Sitri did not ever show dominance, the one time he had, the female now dead, even though technically she had been higher than him. And she probably would not be dead if Mordecai hadn’t held her down. It was a strange thing, that. He tried to quiet the thoughts that he mused upon.

Sitri studied her for a moment at her question and he had to think hard for a moment on how to answer. Always suspicious, I killed another wolf few weeks ago, expect to have some trouble for it. he did not say much else. He hadn’t even wanted to tell her that, but she would find out soon enough being in here, in this pack. I’m Sitri. He offered her his name, and politely looked away, so she didn’t feel that he was challenging or staring.

I actually have no idea what trades to go for, lol. Counselor, Gamekeeper, Warrior, Healer, Naturalist, and Warden all sound like they'd suit her, but I can only pick three!

Sialuk watched him for any sign of volatility, but the male didn't seem to have any. He seemed quite fine sitting where he was, even though she was still standing, herself. Whatever caused him to behave nervously wasn't outwardly apparent. The northern female wasn't terribly perceptive, either, but she thought she would be able to pick up on any obvious signs of illness or mental breakdown. Aside from referring to himself in third person, Sitri didn't seem unusual to the shaman.

Ah, but then he explained why he was suspicious, and Sialuk almost chuckled. To kill was natural as far as she was concerned, and was an instinct deeply rooted in their breed. It was probably harder not to kill a wolf than to kill one, especially if that wolf was non-pack. The Arctic wolves of her homeland had no qualms about dispatching outsiders; Sialuk herself had watched her mother kill a trespassing wolf, and had nearly done one in herself, but he'd got away.

"Sialuk," she rejoined, then briskly said, "they deserve it?" Despite sounding rather sudden, she was unable to hide the tiniest glimmer of amusement from her eyes and the corners of her mouth.

[size=xx-small]I know right I had a heck of a time picking Gunnar's trades[/size]

Sitri was not usually a violent wolf. He had been, but he had left that life behind him, when he had turned and walked away from all he had known. It made him nervous to have the she wolf standing above him, because it made it easier in his mind at least to dispatch him. He however, managed to keep his body from quivering or himself from standing.

The whole incredible ordeal was harder because not only had she been a pack member she had been his leader. Granted turnabout was fair play after all, she had killed his former leader and took her place. So the woman she had it coming, and it was mostly just Mordecai that was mad about it.

Sitri's ghastly muzzle full of scars twitched at the respnose to her own amusement. Depends on who you talk too.

Now a thin smile did stretch her lips. Her first impression of him had been one of nervous suspicion, but her second impression, the one she built here and now, had a touch of modesty to it. She thought a more self-important wolf would have immediately said it was deserved, and Sialuk wouldn't have disagreed. She, after all, was a self-important wolf at times, and believed death came to all who asked for it. She also knew that death came to those who didn't; those were the ones whose anirniit were most likely to seek revenge on their survivors. All things had anirniit, and it was safest to say no anirniit deserved to have its corporeal existence snuffed out. Nature battled spirituality in Sialuk when it came to that sort of thing, but often nature won out.

"Well," she said slowly, "if I was talking to you, what would you say?" It should have been obvious—Sialuk couldn't imagine he would kill a wolf without believing it was deserved. No doubt it was a complex matter; had it been simple, black and white, then he wouldn't be sitting there. He would be dead himself, or otherwise removed from the pack... but he wasn't, and that kept the shaman interested.

Sitri gave her a smile in return as eerie as it seemed. Sitri was a quiet wolf, some could even say humble. But it was a fact of survival for him. It did not bode well for a slave to speak out of his own importance. A good slave did what they were told and told no one, what they had done. And if anything Sitri was a good slave that was something he knew. Sitri did not fear death, did not fear the spirits that came from death. The way he saw it, he was haunted by his own demons, someone else’s weren’t going to do much damage to an already damaged male.

Sitri chuckled darkly then I would say yes it was deserved, and it was what came around. Death for a death. Ptarmigan had killed his leader, his queen so he had killed her. Just like if someone came from his past to kill him, yes he would fight, but if he died well it was just only what he deserved for some of the heinous acts he had committed in the name of royalty.

To hear his thoughts would have been to hear heinous confessions, not only those of past atrocities but also those of self loathing. It was something Sialuk, a fierce beauty from the north who had fought since birth for her life, could not abide. What weighty words she would have had for him to turn him from his belief that death would come for him because it was deserved, what statements of empowerment. However, no amount of spiritual knowledge or ancestral alignment could grant Sialuk the ability to decipher another's mind. Sitri's secrets were safe.

"Then that is all that matters," she said quietly. If it was in question at any point, the warshaman implied now that she believed conviction could justify anything. Murders of their kind were only natural among rival wolves. Sialuk assumed this wolf was a rival of Sitri's and, if a pack mate, one who had acted in favour of themself rather than the pack. Wolves had an interesting dynamic that way—they could be the closest allies one minute and one wrong look could spark a dominance spat. A wrong move there could result in a death. This was not considered a crime in the north, but rather, the culling of the disloyal.

Sorry about the lateness school is kicking my butt as did halloween...do you know how hard it is to get three children ready for parties and trick or treating..yea...let's just say :(

Sitri had never been raised with a sense of worth, and he imagined if he had been, he would be a beast to behold. But he wasn't and hadn't been, so he was the sorry lout you saw before you. Though he was actively working on it.

Sitri gave her a grim smile yes I suppose it is. He allowed the silence to overtake them comfortably. She was a nice wolf, and if he was in the pursuit of a friend, perhaps he would try to make her one. However, he had been betrayed far too much already by friends so he grew quiet and nodded. Do you like it here?

No need to apologize!

They settled into a silence that was neither stifling nor wholly comfortable. Sialuk took the opportunity to look around them at the moss-draped pine trees. She realized she was seated, but couldn't remember sitting. She was about to ask Sitri when she'd done it, but the male had his own question, one which was far more open than her own.

"It's warm," said Sialuk as she twisted the right corner of her dark lips up into a crooked grin. "But maybe not for you folk, huh? I come from Alaska, where it is bitter cold and dark this season." She wondered if Sitri'd ever travelled that far north, if he'd witnessed the great polar bears regally striding across ice floes or seen the savage dance of elephant seals, whether he'd ever spied a walrus in the misty morning... but she refrained, if only because memories of home made her stomach knot uncomfortably.

Sitri did not mind silence as some did. Silence usually meant there were none around to hurt him. Silence was golden, there was no queen or mother or sister screeching at him for something. There was no moans of agony from those slaves in the pits or screams of pain from those being ripped apart by the queens blood lusted wolves. Yea, silence he liked it.

Sitri furrowed his brow as he listened to her. Sitri has never been where it is cold all the time. Always has been near home that is both warm and cold. I think I like it that way. He couldn't really say he didn't like the cold, when he had never really been around it all that much. So he was okay with saying he liked the differing temperatures.

As though gifted with inner sight, Sitri answered her unspoken question, causing her to quirk her brow in poorly concealed interest. Being a shaman, the female knew special talents were a possibility. As unnatural as it seemed, the Arctic female found herself wanting to ask if he read minds often, but for fear of rejection of her views, chose to stay stoically silent on the subject.

Instead, she focused on painting a picture of her frozen home. "There is snow on the mountains year round, and in the furthest northern reaches it stays on the ground as well. The winter is dark for many days. It is a savage land, but worth it. Light dances in the sky every night and the ice reflects it, so the whole world is colour." The aurora was probably what Sialuk would miss most.

As with all things, Sitri hadn't realized he had answered an unspoken question, just that he had been talking. Saying what made sense to say when she spoke in turn. He didn't like cold weather, it seeped into your bones sometimes, and it was disastrous for those who were young and old.

Sitri listened, but at first he didn't say anything. Though the words color caught his attention. Sitri like colors. It sounds pretty to me. Then he grew quiet again and thought about the lessons he had been taught. What to ask and say in moments of conversation, his eyes lit up a little bit as he remembered one small lesson. Do you miss it?

Thought this'd be a good time to fade since I let this get quite outdated.

"Of course," said the shaman, "it is all I'd ever known." Admitting that she missed the barren wasteland of the tundras as a bit like admitting she missed starvation and fighting for survival, things that sounded insane, but she did miss those things. She missed huddling together with others of the pack for warmth, and the feeling of elation when they took down a muskox or other winter creature, for meat was scarce and their failures hit hard. Catching something in these southern lands had its own rewards, but to Sialuk, it was nothing like the celebrations in the north when there was finally food.

"Walk with me?" she offered with a gesture, "Tell me of the places you've been," she requested, hoping he would oblige but not terribly bothered if he chose to keep it to themselves. The past was such a private thing, and Sialuk knew many who preferred not to speak of it.

sure love and I didn't much help being absent for a week as it were.

He listened to her his attention all on her. He dipped his muzzle in thought and then spoke, remembered Tyrande telling him he was to offer his own words to conversation. Not just let the other speak for him and answer curtly. Sitri...I do not miss my past, even though it was all I knew. He grew quiet then and looked down for a moment.

Sitri's ears went forward at her words. Gladly I will tell you of where i've been Though many of the deeds he did were ugly, the places with which they were done in were not.