Jade Fern Grove riding high in to the sky

@Pasha , territory marking/claiming!

Scimitar had coaxed Pasha for the journey -- they rounded the borders that would come to be their own soon. Much like he had done with Whittier, the dark agouti wolf encouraged his son to help in the claiming of their new home, hoping it would distract him from the tension that seemed to be unraveling their family at the seams.

The afternoon sun drifted behind a few clouds, but the day itself was nice. Lifting his leg to yet another fern, Scimitar laid his claim, soon loping forward at a pace that would fit both son and himself. He did not speak, merely dropped his muzzle every so often to graze over Pasha's head in silent praise.

In spite of the drama brewing between his parents, Pasha maintained some level of obliviousness. Sure, maybe his parents had seemed a little detached from each other, but other than being a source of food, comfort, and education, he couldn't have imagined what else there was to life. And as it were, the memories of the Peak were slowly fading from him. The storm and its aftermath, that too was beginning to slip away from him.

Besides, this place was so cool.

He had been content to go out with his father and escape his siblings a little bit, ever so eager for attention in any little way he could get it. So for every moment he got praise, he beamed. His confidence grew easily. And just to form, he was willing to mimic his father and try and mark the territory too, though a few times he was willing to admit it was simply because he had to simply go, and go now. But he hardly knew what they were doing.

"Papa," he said softly, hoping to gain his father's attention from their tasks at hand. This came mid-squat over some helpless plant. "Why we doing?" He mangled it purposefully, it was apart of the cute charm. For all his inclination to grow up in a hurry, Pasha could not help but fall back to the way some of his siblings enunciated their words. Or used them improperly.

Perhaps the largest reason Bazi tolerated the land they were now claiming was because their kids seemed so taken with it.. or, perhaps logic had won, and she realized they had needed to settle them somewhere, and here was as good as any other place. To linger on another mountain in the north would have meant they would have laid claim to the backyard of Duskfire Glacier, and he didn't want that memory lingering over them.

The middle mountains had potential -- but had been explored before, and nothing had ever stood out to them. South was out of the question, and to the west lay the ocean. These were their choices.. and this was what life had dealt them.

Pasha mimicked him, and the silence was only broken when the boy finally questioned what it was they were doing. Casting a fond glance to the boy, Scimitar nudged him forward, encouraging them along the borders. He didn't bother to correct the mispronunciation -- he would when they were older, if they didn't grow from the habit. "We're marking our borders -- letting everyone know that these lands are ours." He paused, wondering if that was explanatory enough. "So when they smell us, they'll know not to cross over in to our home."

His father readily launched into an explanation, which Pasha understood for the most part. Marking the borders so people would know that was their home, alright then. Simple enough. Home was important, that much he knew. But the other parts were a little funny to him, and he couldn't help but project another question as he bounced along to keep up with his father and their trek.

"Why?" he questioned at first, only elaborating after the question had puncutated the air. "Why keep out?" He wanted to know why it was so important that they couldn't just let everyone in. Even though he couldn't have claimed to know all the wolves that made up their home, Pasha didn't see it was so wrong to keep all sorts out. Their packmates were so nice and helpful and inspiring in their own ways, even though he had yet to realize what all he learned through watching them and spending minute moments with.

The large beast slowed his pace a bit, considering the innocence behind the question. Pasha had yet to meet the true wolves of the world.. his knowledge to others was encompassed solely upon the members of the pack, and the Alphas of the newly claimed Phoenix Maplewood. He had not yet seen the hardships of the world.. the downfall of others, nor jealousy. Pasha had never witnessed evil.

It would be everything Scimitar could do to maintain that for his son, but he knew that this would fail. Pasha too would walk in to the world of hardship.. Scimitar could only hope that the boy would never truly fall.

"Because it is our home, and we do not want strangers here," he pressed, trying to think of the best approach to explain this to his son. He continued once more, his leg lifting before dropping and continuing. "We don't want them to take our food, or our resources. And we don't want them to hurt us."

For him, the realities of good and evil were nothing more than shadowy glimpses. There were times when he thought his siblings downright evil for their antics, but it was a mutual thing. They annoyed one another, but they were truly not evil things. And it was an innocence that Pasha would indeed hold onto, even with the foreboding explanation that came from his father.

Once more, the boy tried to mimic him, but failed miserably in trying to hike his own little leg up. Yet he also tried to cover this up, instead opting to stretch out in the brief interlude that came. This too, was also brief. This border stuff was hard work, man! In spite of his little stretch about the ground, Pasha listened as closely as he could to what his father said.

"Oh," he said. He wondered if someone who try and come to hurt them, but lacked the articulation to bring that question to light. This was all still a relatively new concept on the grand scale of things. "Papa," he went on after just that beat of silence, "what if they nice?"

The day would come when the boy would realize that ‘nice’ was not necessarily a redeeming quality in such matters. But would the world harden him to such a realization now, or was it up to his father to burst that bubble for him?
 
Unable to do so, Scimitar gave the boy a crooked smile, nudging him forward once more and out of his leisurely stretch. They had a lot of ground left to cover. “Then be nice in return – but if they are not pack, they are not to come past our borders,” he responded, leaving the answer simple.
 
Glancing down to see if Pasha was watching, Scimitar came to a large tree, lifting himself up slightly to leave forepaw claw mark down the bark – yet one more sign that this was claimed territory, and the scent glands from his paws deeming it just as worthy. Expectantly, he waited for Pasha to do the same. It was a more uncommon method of territory marking, but effective as well.

alll the cute feels right now

As his father went on to explain the way things were, Pasha nodded. He understood that. Not pack, don't let them in. Much akin to the old fashioned stylings of don't take candy from strangers, and certainly don't go getting in their van, he followed along once more. This time, silence reigned as they approached a tree, and curiously the young Frostfur took study of what his father was doing. It was a most definite curious thing to him — he had seen them all waiver between reliving themselves and marking territory, but this was oh so very new.

And before he realized it, all eyes were upon him to follow suit. So Pasha did, a bit overeager with the way he marched up towards the tree, his little tail nothing short of a still flagpole. All serious business. He reared up, sitting up comically for a moment before gravity regained control and sent him forward; the low spot on the tree trunk was met by his ever-growing paws. And there he raked them against the bark of the tree, only to find that he did not have the affect his father had on them.

Astonished, his mouth gaped open. "It's tough!"

Love our boys. <3

The man had served to distract his son from the questions of why strangers couldn't prance around their lands and eat their food -- no doubt, the boy would soon see reason on the matter. For now, Pasha meandered up to the tree, determined with his new task, and pushed hismelf up much like the cinnamon wolf had done moments before.

At his exclamation, the large wolf grinned. "Yes," he finalized, leaning forward to nudge Pasha's shoulder encouragingly. "It is not as effective or as practiced as marking the borders with urine -- but your paws leave scent marks behind too, for a while," he offered, hoping to instill more knowledge for what could be one of the packs rising wardens. The kids would need to begin apprentice rolls soon.. and he and Bazi had decided before that every wolf in their pack would hold at least the warden or warrior trade to their name.

As he settled all four feet back on terra firma, he cast a glance down towards his feet. They had a scent too? Interesting. So far, it seemed that every little day was just another learning experience and as it were, the grove certainly gave plenty of them. Of course, Pasha had more question bubbling up behind his teeth, and thankfully when he did speak they didn't come rushing out all at once.

"Is that why you go a lot? To here," he articulated, stamping on the invisible borders. Maybe that's why they had to maintain them so much, because things didn't last forever and ever. It made perfect sense in his little brain, but he didn't commit it to memory just yet until his father confirmed or denied it. "What else you gots to do?" he went on to ask, eager to be shown more.

Pasha was intrigued -- his questions amused the man, and he realized it was likely he had an aspiring warden on his paws. "Yes. Everyday. You could become a warden and help keep lone wolves from our borders," he suggested lightly, giving the youth a small wink. Soon, all four of them would be encouraged to work toward some form of an apprenticeship -- Pasha might as well take after the physical side of his heritage.

With another nudge to the boy, Scimitar began to lead the way once more along the borders. "Come on," he murmured, knowing they still had a bit of distance to cover. "I'll show you the rest of the borders." With that, father would stop once more, reminding the boy to mark as he went, and the two would spend the afternoon reiterating to any on-comer that these lands were spoken for.. or would be soon.

Feel free to fade out if you want; I noticed you kind of set it up that way. >_>;

A warden, huh. Pasha thought this over for a moment, as though the word were some sort of fine wine that required a palette study before the swallow. Wordlessly for a moment, he followed after his father eagerly. While he certainly had aspirations for himself already, Pasha had not really considered what it was that he would do for the pack when he was older. Not that it was really something that crossed his mind to begin with anyway. As far as he was concerned, his life was composed still of playing endlessly until the cows came home, or at least someone told him he'd better get his rear back inside.

"What other stuff does they do?" he asked, slipping once more back to a more simpler form of talking. Something cute and endearing, as though his father would truly not answer his queries. But Scimitar had intrigued him and he could not help but ask after all the intracacies.

Pasha seemed intrigued, and as the two continued on their trek, Scimitar cast a glance down to his son at his questions. From there, he would give the basic breakdown of what was expected of a warden – and for good measure, he would touch base on a few other trades, such as warrior, hunter and outrider. He knew very little of the other trades – and it occurred to him then that perhaps, while they wanted each of their members to hold either warden or warrior, it would be worthwhile encouraging more broad trades within their ranks as well.