Bearclaw Valley chamomile

I want to see about those wolves who stay in the valley behind the cliffs. Will you come with me, @Sven?

***

Of course, his loving brother had not refused him. He and Kristjan trotted side-by-side out of Kvarsheim, circling the Bearclaw range as they traveled towards its single opening. His skin prickled with anticipation. Their first effort at diplomacy! He had gone off on his own many times now, just to escape, and had met a pawful of strangers in passing, but this would be different.

This could be a meeting that either gained them another ally for the pack, or shined a light on the quiet threat at their doorstep.

Have you met any of them before? He gave his graycloud brother an excited nudge. What do you think they'll be like?

Symbolization of the title flower · Energy in adversity

Sven knew his way of life was to support his siblings. He wasn't strong like Ujurak or sweet and empathetic like Kristjan and he definitely wasn't as ballsy and crazy as Astrid. So he had difficulty at first, realizing where he fit. Until he realized one day, he was support. He was the spare in a sense. There to do what needed done, so they had an easier go of it and that was alright. It fit the humble wishes of his mother for him.

So when his soft hearted brother, with fur as bright as foxes down. Colors of both their parents asked him for escort. He happily obliged. It was strange the contrasts of their pelts and were no one to know them. Siblings they wouldn't think they were.

So one dark and one light stepped out.

Sven turned hia freckled face towards his brother a small smile. 

I hope they are nice. Most in this valley are. But maybe they have some warriors or hunters we could learn from?

Nice warriors? Kristjan smirked at the thought. We would be so lucky, ja? He chuckled, jostling his shoulder playfully into his brother's. Jokes aside, it would be difficult finding mentors, he thought, especially when it came to learning how to fight. But if anyone could put on the charm, it would be these two. Night and day, trotting along side by side.

Soon the yawning doorway that led into the valley came into view, and Kristjan slowed to a stop. The boy cringed, thinking about the wolves who would live in such a sheltered place. It was heavily shaded here, except perhaps at high noon, and it seemed nothing like the wide open spaces of Stone Circle. Could they trust their lives to wolves who lived in the literal shadows?

It is probably polite if we make a call, huh? Sing with me.

attn: @Ameline @Ancelin @Athalia

hope u dont mind the PP that shes with him, lmk <3

"keep close," ancelin growled to @Athalia. as a skilled tracker of all things, including those wolven, he had set about passing this craft directly to the chosen daughter oft the bearvale. amneris had gone, and while they had looked for her, she had left with enough slight of hand that it was as if she had melted away.
but he had learned much from such trails.
"kvarsheim," he whispered next. the primal forest with its armloads of cold ferns was thinning as they came toward the entrance of the valley, but ancelin did not yet wish to be seen. he kept well back in the shadows which poured just beyond the sentinel-stone, watching the two young wolves sing out for the audience of the valley dwellers.

Sven tilted an ear and chuckled. Well Fadir was a nice warrior. Tauris is a nice warrior. It's possoble i think.

The jostle moved him and he ahoved his brother back gently, playfully. They could be sweet and charming he hoped. But he also knew. They had a long road ahead of them. Many would not take them seriously. Even their own pack mates hadn't.

Sven eyed the shadows. Senses on high alert. He hadn't expected such a foreboding place. It pushed his fur a little on edge. But he stood firm amd stalwart beside his brother. Lifting his own nose in kindly greeting and request.

not at all! here have a freakazoid innocent kvar boys

athalia was never one to do what she was told.
sure, at first, she entertained him — ancelin had earned enough of her trust and respect, and she felt safe at his flank, crouching until her knees touched the dirt. there were visitors, or perhaps intruders. she didn't know enough yet to be able to tell.
she listened until she heard the word kvarsheim slip from his lips. something about that name seemed familiar, and the bruingirl felt the age old pull of curiosity. she could see them through the brush; two boys about her age, perhaps a little older, with a strange accent she had never before heard. how peculiar. she leans forward until her nose pokes out from the bush she'd taken to hiding under before she, very suddenly, bursts out into the open — leaving a perhaps stunned ancelin behind.
she stalks over to intercept the boys and gives them a low rumble of amiable greeting, tail swaying and beating at her hocks. hello! friend?

Kristjan wondered how right his brother was. With his very limited scope of who his father was, Gunnar had seemed too old to be anything but nice. Certainly wolves with nasty attitudes didn’t live as long as he had. And Tauris… well, he only thought of her as kind, and though he knew she could be firm with them, he’d never thought of her as a warrior. Maybe Sven had seen her fight and had failed to relay the story. Rude! He’d ask about it later.

As their twin call died out over the fishbowl valley, a dark shape skittered forward from a tangle of bushes that shuddered in its quick wake. Kristjan hardly had time to register that it was a wolf before she was upon them, welcoming and wide-eyed with open curiosity. Oh! Hallo, he chuckled nervously, glancing at Sven. She was younger than them, but only just. A darkling girl with a russet nape and a lightbulb stare.

I am Kristjan, and this is my brother, Sven. It is good to meet you, miss…? He trailed off suggestively.

she pissed him off! "athalia!?" ancelin whispered in a rush of fear when he looked down to give another unsolicited lecture on the techniques of weaponized introversion, only to find his reluctant pupil was no longer present.
in the shadows he whirled, looking for her, indigo eyes finding her trail where it — oh my god.
in helpless fury the young man trembled as she went right up to them, like all his lessons on STRANGER DANGER had gone completely over her head;
the first young man had only just finished speaking when ancelin burst from the undergrowth, looking every bit a proverbial angered hermit or perhaps cave Lauren. sap had pasted bristling needles to his pelt, along with wending, curled bits of creeper and thorn. of course this had not all happened at one time; ancelin had only been so devoted to his craft that he had scarcely left the deadbrush and winterfallen foliage.
the bearclaw glinted provocatively from where it had been proudly gathered into a mat of fur at his chest, now twisted and tightened beyond hope of detangling. a caveman's snort signaled the arresting of his speed. he did not run at them again, only stalked toward the small group, choosing not to glower at athalia in hopes of presenting a face of unity. it truly went without saying that ancelin had none of ameline's penchant for border charisma. he stared at first one boy and then the other with the open look of a feral child. "you're from kvarsheim." so observant, ancelin!

Sven saw the girl running and she greeted them nice enough, but  then the man came barreling out. Wild and feral with a look in his eye that made Sven uncomfy. and without thinking he moved protectively in front of his brother, fur along his ruff bristling. A soft snort. He looked to the girl and dipped his head. His ruff slowly going flat.

I'm Sven.

He stayed near Kristjan. Trying not to knock his brother out of the way, but certainly knowing and making sure that Sven himself get nailed first. Kristjan would have time to run.

WE are from Kvarsheim yes.

I'm Sven.

ignorant as ever to ancelin's ire, athalia only smiles at him as he approaches. there were new friends! why did his face look like that? that's not what she thought excitement looked like.
the beargirl digs through the proverbial filing cabinet of her mind in an attempt to place why the name kvarsheim was so familiar. she'd heard it before, yes, but who and where and what and why and —

DING DING DING

swiftlet! she shouts aloud, tail now sweeping into an erratic thump at her backside. you know swiftlet? swiftlet friend! swiftlet is karshim.
it all came full circle now! the boy kristjan introduces the pair, and so athalia mirrors him with wide pupils and an even wider grizzly smile. i athalia, he ancelin.

Kristjan’s high wagging tail flagged downward as another, much more fearsome creature, burst forth from the stiff cover of shrubbery. Startled, he turned to press himself and his brother back only to find that Sven had moved to shield him! The boy forced down his panic, now afraid that his littermate was in harm’s way, and his pale eye squinted, allowing his good eye to focus.

The piebald wolf had the bristling of a boar and the scars of a warrior, his technicolor fur tangled in feral ornaments. He could’ve been the host of his own Animal Planet show, “Goin’ Crazy in the Woods with Patches MacPinepelt,” airing every evening at 10 p.m.

He nodded to the older wolf, his own features strained with worry for his brother. I am Kristjan.

Swiftlet!

Kristjan looked to the girl sharply, both eyes wide now. You know our bróðir? He nudged Sven gently, urging him to relax, as he pressed forward to speak more to the hollowkin. Have you seen him? Is he here? He hadn’t seen Swift since he’d abandoned the meeting. He looked to the guardian again. We mean no harm here. We only came to – uh, establish, he glanced uncertainly towards Sven, a sort of… relationship? Between our packs.

a wild little scowl curled his jaw as athalia introduced him, dashing his cloud of mystery for a name he hadn't wanted everyone to know. surely this was the most challenging experience that being a parent would ever throw at him.
he decided to be gracious, and eyed the boys with something that was not a smile, but not harsh either. sven and kristjan, ancelin filed, noting their accents and how pleased athalia seemed to be around them.
"there's no swift here," he grunted, glancing down at the girl then back to the kvarsheim wolves. "what sort of relationship did you have in mind?"
he had diplomacy written all over him, you see. ancelin would probably rely more on athalia for her (in his opinion) misplaced goodwill in that regard.

Sven slowly shifted. His ruff lowering. But his mistrust still present. He blinked. So the girl knew swift. He wasn't as close to the boy as Kristjan, but he held him in esteem.

Sven lifted his head. qe were hoping for allyship. Group hunting, keeping each other up to date on news. Offering where we can to help you and vice versa.

yes, the brown one who athalia now knew as kristjan asks her of swiftlet. not here.
they were not here to talk about swiftlet, but instead they sought allyship with the bearclaws. as athalia looks up to gauge ancelin's reaction to this, he looks as if he may be having an aneurysm — all stiff and ruffled, stern and yet so painfully bashful. being the girl she is, she takes this as a sign that he is unsure.
and so, gladly, she takes up the mantle. what we get? her tone becomes accusatory, or at least it would be if it was not cast in overarching dullness, and she stares now at the black one. want swiftlet. bring. we friend, yes?

Both valley wolves denied knowing Swift's whereabouts. He looked a little crestfallen, but his expression perked up again as Sven detailed their hopes for allyship. His tail wagged, smiling a little sheepishly when Athalia declared claim over their pack brother.

If you can catch him, you can have him, Kristjan chuckled, though he quickly sobered and cleared his throat when he remembered Ancelin - the actual adult here. The boy tried to stand a little taller, look a little more confident. You get great friends in Kvarsheim. We are not healers or anything special like that, but we have numbers enough for a good hunt, or backup, if you ever need it, he tacked on to his brother's spiel. He flashed them his most winning smile, that naive summer child.

ancelin snickered a little anyway, deciding he liked these guys with weird accents and gentle offerings.
friends, however, that went a little far. they'd have to see how things went.
"what sorta things does kvarsheim prefer to hunt?" he asked, easing his posture a bit as the friendly back and forth continued. "and — is there any news i should know?"

Sven shifted. We hunt rabbits, squirrels, small prey, birds. But Swift amd I have marked the elk herds.

He thought of the day they had followed them. Big monstrous beasts. But it would feed them so well.

He looked to Kristjan unsure of any news.  His brother got around better than he. So he waited patiently.

Unfortunately, Kvarsheim's hunting capabilities didn't sound very impressive. Was an alliance with them worth a few spare chipmunks and feathers? Kristjan smiled through the thought, attempting to hide his embarrassment. Yet it was this profound sense of discomfiture that gripped the boy most tightly when Sven looked to him expectantly for an insight on valley news.

Fearful of further shame, he lied. Oh! Well, it's usually pretty quiet, he yapped on innocently, tail slowly waving. Though I met a fellow with a limp a little while ago - didn't catch his name - and he told me some wolf in the mountains where the sun sets pushed him down a cliff unprovoked. He gestured towards the Sunspires. Said he had gray fur and a dark mask. He frowned, picturing the wolf he framed. But I haven't seen anyone like that around here. 

Though it was true he traveled more, Kristjan had never done anything useful in all that time; mostly lollygagged and dillydallied to his heart's content. He could only hope that his little lie made him seem useful in some way. And he didn't think twice about demonizing any dark-masked wolves in the process.

"well, if you ever need help hunting, let us know," ancelin volunteered, glancing at athalia. his friendliness (?) was solely for the sake of ameline. this would be her kingdom, and as her knight he needed only enforce what she wanted.
and that, for now, was politeness.
"i'll keep an eye out for the dude. we'll let kvarsheim know if anyone like that is around," the indigo-eyed man nodded, looking again to his daughter as if to ask her to signal the end of this meeting he wanted to go well.