Bearclaw Valley at summit talks you'll hear them speak

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Stoical—pale eyes grazed the length of the borders, feeling the whip of a warmer wind brush over him, stirring at his fur. It spoke of the hardship of summer heat—hot enough he found himself missing the relief of the cooler creek.

Still—this had been in motion for weeks now, and each day passed, more of his initial ideal had crumbled away. A grand stand had meant to be made—warriors of Swiftcurrent Creek coming to the borders to demand an answer from the man named Glaukos—and if the Valley wolves sided with the bear man, he would know what neighbors resided by them now.

But @Arric was a new father to four healthy puppies, and he had made a promise to @Arlette that the father of her children would always return to her. And thus, he had left the man home.

@Muskrat had taken to the mountains, and, apparently, as did @Viinturuth in the wake of her scent. Again, he found himself down two warriors.

Nanou had disappeared. @Pukei was about as frightening as a butterfly. @Mae, one more, had deemed him unworthy of her time, cast aside as he had likely pissed her off in some way or another. But she never cared to tell him why.

Now, instead of an angered warrior at the wrongs of his pack, he stood as a protective father, his gaze hard on the lands as he waited on their borders.

A diplomat he was not. But he was done waiting, and tipping his muzzle up, he called for @Ancelin for a meeting.

the call was not one expected. ancelin raised his muzzle from where he was allowing one or more of his daughters to maul him with their sharpening teeth, hissing a little in pain as he more firmly detached the bitier of the lot.
"stay here," he growled, hoping athalia would see fit to keep even a cryptid's watch over her little sisters. he glared deeply into all four pairs of eyes before stalking off into the woodland in search of a shadowed trail to the valley's sole entrance.
ancelin materialized along the red path. "akavir." halting some feet away, the young hunter's shrewd indigo eyes flicked over the man's bearing. serious business? "what can i do for you?"

Minutes after the man’s long shadow passed cedar and poplar, the Bob-tailed adolescent stalked forward, keen to find out what mission Akavir was going on- without asking. She followed his scent, pausing periodically to see if he was within sight or earshot- and continued only when she was certain her pursuit would not be noticed. 

She heard him call out, and drew warily forward, noticing the scent of another pack in the area. When she caught sight of Akavir, a man with a marbled coat drew closer. She fixated on the claw tangled in the fur of his chest; how strange.

Words were spoken, but Cygnet didn’t hang back to offer privacy. 

She prowled forward to stand at Akavir’s side, wordless. Expressionless, she kept the bear-claw man in a quiet side-eye, while she kept one ear flicked toward her leader.

Ancelin was quick to respond—a well guarded and maintained border. He had known they sought to create space to raise their family here—and as the wisteria-gaze of the man fell upon him, Akavir felt emboldened in this movement of a more diplomatic approach—maybe he didn’t need warriors at his back for this moment.

Maybe this was what personal growth looked like, or some shit…

“Ancelin,” he began, and that was when an ear flickered to sound of pawfalls—Cygnet sidling up next to him, silent, stoical—and yet somehow looking like the cat that ate the canary.

Little shit.

He held back his amusement, clearing his throat before turning his eyes once more to the regal before him—cutting straight to the chase: “A large, dark wolf with dark eyes came near our territory in the spring. He had an interesting take on the role of women… and injured my daughter deeply. He took her eyesight.” His eyes perused the man before him—watching, a brow arching. “We found the pack he had come from. He had knocked some of the teeth out of a she-wolf there prior to leaving. It’s been brought to our attention he might be harbored here.”

A pause—direct. “I thought you might want to know, for the safety of your family.”

glaukos. ancelin's frown appeared at the tail end of akavir's words, and he stared almost unseeing at the younger creek wolf who had joined her leader.
"he was here. real big guy, kinda grey? i haven't seen him in almost three months." and he wouldn't have dared say shit like that to ameline. she'd have ripped his throat out and then we would have buried him here.
now that the valley was home to multiple daughters, the 'role of women' without elaboration had ancelin in his thoughts. "when did all this happen?" glaukos had reconnected him, them all, to the legacy of the bearclaws. but knowing he'd been blinding girls and knocking the teeth out of women made him sick. he remembered avicus, after all.

She stared at the claw, noting its shape and size. Something that big must have been impossible to kill- she imagined this guy was nothing but a mere scavenger, toting around this finding as if it might lend him some of its power. She both detested it, and wanted it for herself. 

It lay close to his chest, where his beating heart would be; only a few inches lower from the vein where his blood flowed. She remembered the taste of wolf’s blood; saliva pooled at the corners of her lips. 

She swept her tongue over them to disguise her appetite, and lifted her gaze when the man admitted knowing the wrongdoer. His excuse didn’t please Cygnet, who narrowed her eyes and lifted her head a bit so she could give Akavir a sidelong glance. 

I think he’s lying.

“‘Bout three months ago,” he confirmed, his features solemn. A sideways glance was given to his creek companion when he felt the burning of her stare upon him—thirsty, much like him, for answers and justice.

His gaze drifted back to Ancelin—a rumbling sigh given as he stretched his shoulders slightly—as if he could shake away the tension that clawed at him. “I won’t lie Ancelin… If I see the man again, I’ll kill him.”

He hadn’t truly known what he would do—he had spoken to Druid and left his intentions vague, primarily because he hadn’t fully known them. Hadn’t known what trouble would come from the disruption between the Creek and Valley wolves.

But he knew now—and he wanted his intentions clear, as he looked over the violet-eyed man before him. “I don’t know who or what he is to you. But I want to be upfront about it to you. So if you know where he might have gone and want to help...” He left the question open.

ancelin caught the look, and was unreceptive to it. through masterful effort he did not respond to this kid, whoever she was, turning his attention fully to akavir. he chose not to react to the promise of bloodshed. "he said he was born here. glaukos was his name. he knew — all about this place. turns out my grandpa and grandma used to run things in the valley," he preened, though for ancelin it was also a way to say there's a real claim here. and i have her eyes. neat!
"but he didn't stay for long. barely knew exactly who he was before he disappeared. maybe he was just here long enough to remember. didn't get the chance he meant to stay around forever."

Cygnet did not know that the man named Glaukos had such a reputation- and it excited her to think that perhaps now their chance might come- to strike down and kill. She looked past the patchwork man, as if hoping to see the grey target appear so that Akavir could strike him down, so that she could sink her teeth in, and shred him to bits-

But apparently, he had been gone for some time. 

What she gleaned, however, was that Ancelin seemed to have enjoyed the man’s company. Learned from him. Something positive in his voice convinced Cygnet that perhaps he even liked the man. That was troubling, wasn’t it?

Would he shelter the man again, simply so he could learn more about his family? 

He couldn’t be trusted. Cygnet wasn’t even sure she believed that Glaukos wasn’t off in the valley, hiding. 

She uttered a small, skeptical growl, and flexed her paws, hoping her labradorite stare might eventually intimidate the man into spilling the truth about the man’s whereabouts.

Cygnet and his thoughts were much the same—assumed as such by the rumbling growl that loosed past her lips—and Akavir took a moment to study the shine of the other man’s strangely hued eyes—the pleasure that seemed to float on his words.

But Ancelin also offered information that could be vital in the adjustment of his hunt—and willingly, which did not instantly place the man as untrustworthy in this endeavor to the creek wolf. Why offer so much information, if he would aim to protect the mountain wolf in the end?

Unless Ancelin was tucking him safely inside his Bearclaw Valley.

“So he’s related to you? Who are your grandparents?”

sorry’ I skipped posting order- if you want me to delete this I can but it likely won’t change much haha.

He was related to the bad man? 

Cygnet’s head lowered, as if she meant to stalk forward though she held to her position. She glanced past Ancelin, and flicked her tongue over her nose as if to test the air for scent. If the man was Ancelin’s relative, he would have reason to lie to them. 

The whole “nice guy” facade wasn’t something she was willing to believe, not where he was a stranger.

all good with me! <3

the visit took a colder turn, and ancelin felt interrogated. he took a step forward, flagging his tail. "i didn't say he was related." his laugh was anything but humored. "merrick and astara built this place."
his indigo eyes shifted between them. "now. if there are no more invasive questions, i have work i need to do."
glaukos wasn't here. posturing on his land didn't change that, it only pissed the bearclaw off more with every passing moment.

Ancelin’s ire grew—whether from the questions or the predator-like gleam in Cygnet’s eyes. Still, the Mayfair remained impassive for the moment, eyes skimming over the tri-colored wolf with quiet acceptance.

It seemed strange how quickly the Bearclaw wolf grew tired of the subject—Merrick and Astara weren’t names he recognized, and so he gave a quiet inclination of his head in acceptance to the dismissal—there was no verdict on the matter, nor a judge or jury.

Oh, but Akavir would certainly play the role of executioner, should the need arise.

“Thanks for your time, Ancelin,” he noted, trying to keep the drawl of his words from dripping with sarcasm. A gentle nudge given to Cygnet’s shoulder would signify their leave, and he begun to lope away—the frown that marred his features all he allowed to reveal on his thoughts of the entire interlude.