north sea storm

Sorry for my slowness, guize! I bought a Super Nintendo a few days ago and have been nostalga'ing myself to death since, lol. :P

When the large, gruff Beta had summoned Verrine to follow on this scouting mission, he had been glad to do so. The way he saw it, it was an opportunity to prove himself to the higher-ranked male, and Verrine suspected that Ragnar saw it much the same way. It was a way for the two to feel one another out, for Verrine to learn more of what Ragnar expected of him while Ragnar learned what Verrine knew and was capable of.

It was a sweet surprise when Julooke was invited along, and all the while, Verrine sensed her enthusiasm and excitement. There was a spring to her step and a light in her eyes that he hadn't seen much in a long while, and he grinned at her often as she frolicked alongside him. Occasionally, he'd playfully bat her shoulder with his tail, or kick a little sand at her ankles when she wasn't looking. Of course, he was mindful to keep his banter low-key and subdued, for he knew Ragnar was all business and this was a serious situation.

He nodded and commented occasionally to Ragnar's observations; in particular, he asserted that there was every reason to believe they had formed a pack, for howls could be heard, scents were plentiful, and foot traffic was heavy in the area. As they walked the beach, following scents and casting wary eyes out toward the nearby island, Verrine understood well why Ragnar was so bent out of shape. These wolves were all but on Horizon Ridge's doorstep. This would be a problem. "They are way too close," he observed after listening, with interest, to Julooke's explanation that she had met the so-called leader of this band of wolves. "There will be conflicts over hunting grounds. The island is too small to sustain a pack -- they will have to come to these shores and the plains between here and the Ridge to find game. They are going to be right on top of us, taking food out of our own mouths."

Verrine himself was a deeply territorial wolf, and would never have tolerated a rival pack establishing itself so close to his own lands. He had been vehemently aggressive in his defense of Sterrenvuur's borders and had not been afraid to shed blood for those who were stubborn or persistent in their intrusions. He felt the stirrings of that old, familiar anger and protectiveness within him now, and a soft, almost inaudible growl churned deep in his chest as he gazed out at the island. "There's no way this won't become a huge problem, Ragnar." And he looked at his Beta, awaiting his feedback and direction on what to do next.