Porcupine Ridge cowboy guilt

Kaertok's paws led him north along the range of mountains he had once called home. Well, he hadn't called them home, exactly, but his parents had. His dispersal from them had been premature, driven by his exceedingly adventurous nature. This, however, was the first time he came across a pack. He had unknowingly managed to avoid Blackfeather Woods, Rosings, and Ryujin.

He stood a respectful distance away from the marked borders, sniffing at the air for any clues that might tell him something about this place. Little could be gathered from scent alone, but it did seem fresh. Settling onto his haunches, then his elbows, Kaertok waited. If they were worth anything, he'd be greeted in due time.

His patrol along the borders was not just for strangers, but in hopes that a familiar face might be spotted. The white she wolf had not yet returned, and the black wolf had committed to his decision and forbade himself from leaving his homestead to pursue her. Yet, he there was a pain in his heart, a twinge of regret, and he worried for his former packmate. For a brief time, he even entertain anger toward his beta for having bred her, but this was quelled by reasonable thought. It was not his beta's fault. It was his own, and Capri's as well.

Imagine his surprise then when he spotted her, upwind of him. His tail wagged and he picked up his pace to greet her.... but as he drew near, excitement writ on his features as his tongue lolled and tail continued to dance, he was surprised yet again. The white wolf before him was not Vuk at all, but a young male. Taggarik came to a halt, disappointment evident on his face before his stoic expression resumed. His ears pitched forward then, and he hiked his tail above his hips.

"You're a little young to be wandering from home, aren't you?"

Verbal communication beyond a yip, howl, or grunt was not something that had been taught much by his mother, Tonravik. His father, however, had been a chatty parent, and Kaertok had learned enough from him to carry on a conversation when necessary. Like his mother, though, the second-born son preferred silence and body language. Since he couldn't maintain the former (and it was expected of him to talk), he would have to settle for incorporating the latter.

As was customary when upon another pack's borders, Kaertok lowered himself and licked his lips, showing submission in doing so. His tail curled between his legs, and he spoke with few words. "Old enough to hunt," he replied.

He was a respectful young thing, Taggarik would give him that. In acknowledgement, the black wolf's tail dropped to a neutral sway and he slackened the stiffness in his shoulders and stood at ease. "Yeah, I suppose you are," he replied, his jaw shifting as he contemplated the boy in front of him.

His age was against him; the alpha male had been disappointed several times over by yearlings in his pack, and this one was not yet even fully grown. More than anything, he needed dependable wolves in his ranks, or his own litter would suffer. He shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm assuming you're looking to join, but I'm not really able to take you in right now. There is another pack across the river valley, directly west of here, that may be open to you. I suggest you try there." He dipped his head apologetically, and walked away.

He would no go too far, and would check back later to see if the boy had left.

The other wolf spoke, seemingly sizing him up. Then, he apologized, assuming that Kaertok had come here to join. Presumptuous of him, indeed. Sungiwok nodded, not revealing that he had simply come here for information to decide if it was worthy of his presence. And that, apparently, was about as much that he was going to get. The stranger directed him toward another pack, and then sauntered off.

The boy licked his lips, paused to watch the dark wolf a moment longer, and then turned back from where he had come from.