Swiftcurrent Creek i was looking for a job & then i found a job

private thread for @Akavir !!

The pattering of pacing paws could probably be heard for miles.

He'd decided to den at an unclaimed spot near the creek's water, close enough to the others should there be an emergency, but far enough that he was able to get his own privacy.

The wolves that were away had returned by now, but Frederick still hadn't gotten a chance to meet with Akavir, and he was worried, now. Akavir, he thought, was probably the likeliest candidate to have information on his brother, Adrian. But what if he didn't? Frederick didn't know what he'd do.

Keep working here, probably. Be a good packmate until winter came, where he'd search for Adrian on foot. He knew, though, that Milan would be waiting for him at the valley, and that he could always return there when he was done with being nomadic.

But for now, he had a duty to Swiftcurrent Creek. Frederick paused in his tracks, dropping his head with a long sigh.

The long sigh was heard—

—even more, it was felt.

Pale champagne eyes studied the white bear of a wolf at which the sound had emitted, feeling a rueful connection in that quiet, unguarded moment alone. Sigh, indeed, he thought, and shifting his weight, the ebony wolf began to lope closer, ensuring to make his presence known.

His Betas had informed him newcomers had been coming—that they would seek him out. He appreciated the sentiment—but none had, and he was eager to place names to faces.

To get an idea just who now resided in their ranks, especially during such dire times.

This one, he believed, was the one @Arric had spoken of that was looking for someone specific.

Chuffing against the cold—hoping to garner the white wolf’s attention, Akavir regarded the man with the hint of a smile, a nod of greeting. “Frederick, yeah? I’m Akavir.”

Thickly-furred head raised at the sound of another. Black fur caught his attention, and for a moment he thought it might be Arric. But, no, this one was smaller. Different eyes. And most notably, he lacked a white frame around the right. Pale ticking upon his nape, as well. So, it clearly was not Arric.

Frederick breathed. Akavir? And for a moment, it seemed that he had the weight of the world resting upon his shoulders. Heavy, as if his pelt was thick, water-logged. But he stood up, then, straightening his spine and taking a quick breath. Yes, I'm Frederick. It's a pleasure to meet you. A respectful nod followed.

He blinked, then, jaw partly opening before he snapped it back shut. Words forming in his brain, trying to escape before he was finished with them. Fred searched champagne eyes, before he squeezed his own shut and took another breath. I'm trying to think. he murmured quietly. He wondered if Akavir could hear his brain buzzing.

Words wouldn't come to him, only the grey face of his brother, @Adrian.

Another breath: I'm looking for someone, he said. Lestan might have already told you, but I'm looking for my brother. A hopeful expression, then, as he would begin to describe: He's my height, a little smaller, though. White with a grey face and paws. Oh, and blue eyes. A flick of his tail. Does that remind you of anyone?

Someone he had seen at the hunt? Someone he had seen just wandering about?

Something, he hoped. Someone.

He was a big guy—rivaling Arric—and yet the complete opposite. White—angelic, he could even say, perhaps inspired by the pale blue of his eyes. Only a handful of scars, unlike the myriad that littered his own aging body.

The man parroted back his name in what seemed surprise—like the Alpha was perhaps nothing more than fable that the wolves of the creek would whisper about. The wandering Alpha—did he or did he not truly exist?

But any amusement or words he had for that thought died as he watched the man wrack his brain, a rapid blink of pale blue eyes followed by squeezing them shut—an offer that he was trying to think. It was like watching Windows Explorer trying to boot up.

Sensing this was more serious than a simple meet and greet, the ebony Mayfair slowly lowered himself a sit—countenance flitting into a look of mild concern before Frederick finally looked to him once more—

Searching for a brother. He knew that feeling—and he felt a grim smile form at the corners of his mouth in silent understanding for the man before him. Given he had just been at perhaps one of the largest gatherings the valley had yet to see, it only made sense the pale wolf sought his company for such a question.

White wolves had littered the area—as much as black, brown and grey. Tall wolves, short wolves. Yet this Adrian seemed to have enough distinguishable features to leave an impression—and as he considered, he felt a certain disappointment filter through him. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen anyone by that description—I definitely didn’t meet anyone of that name.”

He waited for the shattering of hope—the wilt of it. “When was the last time you saw him?”

And his heart shattered into one million little pieces.

Scarlet and fragile, see-through, made of glass as it dropped out of his chest and crashed against the floor. But such a feeling was merely represented by a blank expression, face, eyes, maw, untelling of the sorrow that had just swept through him. Disemboweled and destroyed him. A blink of sea-hued eyes brought him back, however.

I see, Frederick choked out. Words struggled to find him. I last saw him-—Forever ago. A lifetime ago—-the day before he left. A year ago. So who knew if he was even still alive? If he was the same wolf that Frederick had grew, survived, alongside? Who he had witnessed his father's death with? Was he the same boy?

Did Adrian even know of their mothers knew husband, Hearst? No, he did not think so. And a weary look grew upon his face, then, as he searched the eyes of Akavir. Careful, though sorrowful. I worry I may be wasting my time, he said.

Looking for him, I mean. A nod. Slow.

Regretful.

Akavir had waited for a storm to release from the man—instead he was met with the careful blink of crystalline eyes, and studiously, he knew the man placed a facade before him. Trained in the art of withholding emotion—whether for survival or ego, he did not know—but he could sympathize with it.

The pale man’s expression might have lacked from the news, but something in his voice was compelling—enough to shift the Alpha’s weight from his seat, his mind continuing to pull for any memory that might prove useful to the other wolf.

A year was a long time—the sorrow that was no longer masked by the Lambda seemed to understand this, as glacial blue eyes now met frosted champagne.

“It’s never a waste of your time,” he offered, his own voice low in the enveloped quiet of the creek. “You just can’t stop yourself from living, in the interim.” Standing once more, he nodded toward the creek, a quiet invitation for Frederick to fall in step with him as he began to trail along its edges, eyes focused upon the moving waters. “I don’t know if you’ve heard… But news of a rising… group… of wolves have been flagged as dangerous. They attacked the youth of a nearby kingdom toward the flatlands. Trying to steal another—harming them. We don’t know many details, but what we do know, if these wolves are trying to pass around a green, herbal-like substance.” Given their nature—it wasn’t likely anything good.

“Swiftcurrent Creek and Kvarsheim, a pack to the east of us, have decided to start a… patrol of sorts. We will send a warrior from each pack, together, to do a sweep of the Rising Sun Valley, then down to the desert lands where the first check point will be. Muat-riya—a second home to the kingdom I mentioned. Where the attacks had occurred. After, a second check point will be toward the flatlands, to the Kingdom’s main claim. And then home—to send the next round of wolves to patrol.”

He paused, gaze drifting from the waters, to study the impressively large man. “There is opportunity to keep an eye and word out for your brother, during this, as well.”

But how could he know? Perhaps the alpha had gone through something similar—losing someone he loved. But Frederick could not think of that right now, all he could think about was his littermate. The loudmouth, the runaway, the one that might've died, too. His blinking held back tears, but could he hold them for long? He was unsure.

Frederick followed Akavir's steps, then. Careful, watching the moving waters before returning his gaze to the man in front of him. Listening to him speak. Unrelated to his brother as of yet, but something that still came of interest either way. Frederick's ears perked. A rising group of wolves, he had said. Attacked, stolen. A green herb.

How did this relate to him, though? But it didn't, and he knew that he should focus on his loyalty to the pack the same way he should focus on his loyalty to his blood. A nod of his head, then, though Akavir couldn't see it. Kvarsheim, he had heard of that pack before. @Lestan had told him about it. Friendly, he knew. Or at least polite. His words.

Akavir's eyes met him, then, and that was when he realised that this was no info-dump. No, he was being recruited. Something flashed beyond his gaze: weariness, anger, shock? But it fled as quickly as it came, and the man was left stone-faced and unreadable. I understand. he said, then, at the mention of Adrian.

He was right, it was a good opportunity. Not only was he serving Swiftcurrent and their allies, but he could also keep an eye out for his littermate, and perhaps wolves from other packs would have met him before. A slow, tentative nod, the cogs within his brain carefully working behind his eyes. A sense of finality carried his words when he spoke.

If it is me you choose, then I will do it. 'The next round' implied that this would not be full-time, and so he was content. A few days of walking, keeping an eye out for any suspicious wolves. He could do that, and so he gave a firm nod.

And he wondered, then, if they would stop past Bearclaw Valley.