Emberwood when do you fold? and when do you run?

Adlartok paced among the tree line, his eyes wide and dark. He was taking it all in, they had been here for a few weeks now. They had said they wanted to start a pack, but no one had started one. He was becoming impatient and as all momma boys in a way. He chose to lay all the blame on Kove rather than Scarlett. She could do no wrong as far as he was concerned, so the fault must lie with her pompous boyfriend.

Ad growled softly to himself as he thought of him. He didn't trust him as far as he could toss him, and in his current state that was not far. He limped back and forth, back and forth. Golden eyes narrowing with each step. Soon he'd be staring at the world through slits, anxious and impatient and angry. Those seemed to be the only emotions he knew anymore.

ooc: saving a lonely thread. @Adlartok - would you mind if it was bumped up closer to the present day? If not I can always pretend that Hedda has been wandering around the area for quite some time.

Hedda knew that she was nearing her goal - she had caught the particular scent of the ocean in the gusts of wind that had passed through the area and felt her heart fill with relief. It had been a while since she had spoken with her master and, even though she could sense it's spirit and shadows watching her from the creeks, rivers and lakes she passed by during her journey, it was not the same as talking with it in person. And having been raised and lived by the sea for a good part of her life, she missed to be near it for personal reasons too. The inlands just didn't feel the same.

The forest she had entered was nothing like she had seen before - aspens alone. Hedda slowed her quick pace to a steady walk, stopping now and then to have a sniff at the bark, leaves and roots of the trees, appearing to be searching for something. The tree was told to have properties of relieving pain - not quite the properties she was looking for now. Then to her surprise she found an old pine tree with twisted branches and the smell of fresh resin around it. The she-wolf drew closer and examined the tree for a while, eventually deciding that it would do for whatever she had planned.

Now... for the sacrifice... Hedda's row of thoughts was interrupted, when she realized that she was not alone here. Another soul was nearby, it's overwhelming presence and emotions felt more than his pacing footsteps audible. Driven by curiousity the old hag focused on finding this someone and soon her effort was rewarded, for she found a young male. Not a yearling and - what was that? - besides his smell there was this sickly-sweet scent of rotting flesh. Interesting... she made no rush to approach the fellow, preferring to sit down and observe him. If he saw her, he would have to make the first step.

Looks at wolf in suspicion...i know those names ;) Of course it can be

Artok was not one to rely on scents, and others. Not anymore, he had not been near the sea in some time. Not since he left Wintersun. He preferred rivers, creeks and lakes anyway. THey were not as harsh, and they did not taste so awful. There were also not fish bigger than him, usually in them.

There were not many trees that Adlartok knew here. He had seen a few pines, but the rest were different. Granted he had never really had the time, or the energy to look over trees. Or even learn them. he continued to pace, back and forth. Among the darkness of the trees, the coolness of the air ruffled his fur.

A shift in the space, made him look about. A sixth sense pervading his already full senses, as he looked about him. His eyes caught onto another wolf, sulking in the trees, well sitting he supposed. What did she want? He growled softly, but walked forward a bit stiff. Who are you?

ooc: something wicked this way comes...


The young lad was not dense, he sensed Hedda's presence after a brief moment and didn't look pleased. Well, you couldn't say that she was impressed by him either. Out of instinct her body tensed, when she saw him coming in her direction, but this moment passed quickly. She had long fought for her mind to have a full control of every single thing her body did and could do. The victory had to yet be celebrated, but she had achieved a lot.

Therefore, where another person had run or got up to it's feet to reply to the challenge, Hedda remained seated, her gaze boring into the youth's face, taking in and memorizing every single trait, wondering, if he could be useful to her or... quite the contrary, should he be... terminated. Brought to an end. When he asked her a question, Hedda's eyes narrowed for a moment and she smiled in an unpleasant manner: "Who are you?" Two could play this game.

Artok, actually prided himself on his intelligence, dark and wicked as it could be. Though, he could also pride himself on the fact, that it wasn't always so wicked, even being raised by a dark uncle. He smirked, when he saw the minuscule tensing of her body. It was not obvious, and he didn't blame her. He wasn't small anymore, and besides the fact, that who was really willing to be kind to a stranger. Not him, that was for sure. He tilted his head.

He gave her one warning growl, as she blatantly stared at his face. He wasn't one for a challenge, and he had no intention of pulling a dominant stance. However, it was rude to stare at another, and he didn't like it. He quieted it, just as fast as he had bore it, just to show that he meant no offense. He was just non verbally commenting on her rudeness and he supposed boldness in some aspects.

He straightened and looked her over. Then looked away, feigning disinterest. He shrugged, You first, then i'll let you know who I am. If I feel like it.

I'm sorry he's such a butt lol

The young wolf growled at Hedda, disliking her impolite way of communication. She was not impressed, only lifted her eyebrows slightly, asking something between "is that all" and "is it really neccessary". One could reprimand her all he or she wanted for her bad manners, she would still do things her way. She didn't live for the sake of making others happy, she lived for herself in the first place.

There was a bit of resistance from his side and his move, which he probably thought to be very wise and cool, lacked originality and was kind of lame. Had she been in her place, she would have come up with something better. "Well... there are other ways to find that out," she purred. "What do you say, if I kill you now and then see, who comes to mourn for you. They will surely call you by your name."

ooc: well, Hedda is a psycho. So we are even, I guess. :D

Artok, thought it was damn well neccessary. She needed to learn some manners, and if he was in a worse mood. He would not have thought twice about taking a chunk out of her face. He was a no nonsense man as of late. He also lived selfishly for himself, except for Scarlett, she was part of his selfish world.

Artok stared at her and cut his eyes at her. He smiled wolfishly and cruelly. His fur bristling along his shoulders. He didn't growl, rather he spoke softly, but defiantly. You could try, and perhaps succeed, but you best be damn sure darling, that I will take a piece of you if not all of you with me. He did not take to kindly to threats, even wants given in a soft, silken spun voice. He could care less how they were given. A threat was a threat, and if she did so again, he would not fail to act aggressively.

Though Hedda hated getting into fights and avoided them at all costs possible, she had an ounce of the "warrior gene" in her, which meant that, if challenged, she was not the one to submit or back down first. In her eyes the young wolf had proven himself to be very conceited and behind her sickly sweet smile and ice-cold eyes she felt annoyed by him to no end. With these kind of people, who thought that world belonged to them, in general.

"I find no beauty in a brutal death," she said after a pause. "Poison - that is a different thing. You can even go so far as to compose all the stages of death and levels of suffering you wish. Ever thought about that? Dying with grace and ellegance?"

Artok cut his eyes to the side, to avoid fighting. He could if he needed too, and he wouldn't mind doing so. Especially with the way the she wolf in front of him, rubbed his fur wrong. However, he was not as foolish as he sometimes spoke. Artok wouldn't deny he was conceited and had she thrown that word around, he probably would have just shrugged. He knew it and it didn't bother him. He wasn't in this world to make people like him, or make friends. BEsides why should he want a friend, when in the end they were just going to betray him anyway. Just like all the others. However, unlike most, he was conceited yes, but he didn't think the world belonged to him, it belonged to no one. Probably, some pretty different views put together, but eh.


She caused him to be taken back, as she forced him to think. So then he was intrigued, now rather than irritated by her presence. But isn't there honor in some of the brutal deaths? If you die protecting those you care for? OR those you have sworn to protect? It's your duty, if you give your word to follow through, and sometimes you die brutally. Isn't that a beauty of sorts? He shifted, the fur along his nape easing downward, as he listened and spoke back. Curious as to what she would have to say next, finding her presence a little more tolerable. Grace and Elegance, are not exactly my forte. And if you show all stages of dying, wouldn't it be ungraceful and ugly?

Heroic deaths - oh, how everyone praised them. Legends were based of them, the whole viking religion revolved around dying in a battle. And the more bruttaly mauled you were, the better chances were that you would end at the good end of the Valhalla's table of neverending feasting. "Unless you are the one dying," she remarked with a knowing smile.

In her very vast experience about death in all it's forms and types, no such thing as "dying heroically" existed. Dying without realizing, what is happening. Or dying, feeling enormous amount of fear. All of the so called "heroes" put up the brave smiles and said the encouraging words to their comrades, all the while feeling imense pain and fear. "Have you had many near-death events, that you can speak so boldly about the way you want to die? Hmm?" she asked, knowing the answer already. "Did they feel heroic? Noble? Beautiful?"

Adlartok did not know much about legends and perhaps even myths some would say. He did however, know of death and honor among it. He was not afraid of dying anymore, he had been. And he had nightmares for weeks after the whole ordeal. However, now it didn't scare him as much. Perhaps, it was because he had been so close. Artok looked at her and tilted his head, and nodded for a moment and then spoke up. Death is a way of life, the end. There isn't any point fighting to stay away from it, when it is going to happen some day. Sure you can be careful and you'll live longer, but you're still going to die someday. All you can do is live the best you can.

Artok looked at her a strange look in his eye. He could think of many times he had almost died. Including at the paws of his uncle, and then at the paws of one who was supposed to take care of him. Instead she had been selfish and crazy. Actually I have. He thought back on it and shook his head. They did not feel either, I was not ready to die. Though now I suppose I am okay with it, if it comes for me. I'll fight it of course, but if it comes down to me or someone I have vowed to protect, well then I guess i'm going to die aren't I.

Hedda was not afraid of death either, even less the one, who wanted to escape from it or tried to avoid it. She knew, when her time was due and then she would welcome the death as an old friend. Yet the boy had missed her point - she despised those, who went in a battle mindlessly for the sake of dying heroically. Sacrificing oneself for another, even a dear person, was also a foreign term to her. In her opinion, you were much more useful to that person, if you were alive and not dead. But she figured that the life would teach this punk all the neccessary lessons.

"What can I say, you are a noble guy," Hedda said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "I can only wish you that you part this life for someone worthy, someone that truly matters," though she doubted it heavily. There were very few people, who realized, what a gift life really was.

Holy Crap! I am so sorry. We can fade if you want, since I fail.

Artok had been afraid of death once upon a time. Now, though he saw it as an adversary and he would fight until he couldn't anymore. Then when his time was up, and his hand was due, well then he would embrace it and go onto the next big adventure. The only person truly that he would die for was Miss. Scarlett, as she had saved him. The only one I would die for, has saved me 2 times. So the way I figure, I owe her one. Then he grew quiet and listened to the other.

Artok snorted, Nobility is overrated. He grew quiet he heard the sarcasm there, and he chose this time to ignore it though this time he studied her strangely. You're a real peach too. Then he grew quiet and looked back towards home, and his family, all one wolf of it.