Lake Rodney tarnished

Set a few hours after this.

He didn't know how far he ran, but even after he had stopped flat-out sprinting, it was a while longer before Kaizer even began to let up his steady-beat trot in favor of rest. He had long forgotten his pursuers and his defeat. The only thing that mattered to him was that he eat, drink, nap, and return to the Caldera (and mostly because he just ignorant to the fact that there were a billion other packs in these wilds to harass.) He stopped fully when he had come to the lake, washing himself quickly of his own blood and loose fur, while taking in the bare minimum of the water he needed to move on. A sensible thing  he had learned the hard way as an endurance runner.

An unsuspecting  vole provided him with a quick snack, but he'd have to catch something bigger to put on his stomach if he meant to return to the caldera before evening. He was too tired for such a thing at that moment, so he dug a little hovel near the lake, and curled up to sleep for a while; warmed and resting beneath a Lion King style rising sun.

When Birk had lived on the ice-fields lakes had never been much of an interest to him. More like a threat - if you saw one in the vicinity, it meant that you had high chances of going through, freezing to death and drowning somewhere inbetween the two events. Now, however, where he had found more green and diverse terrain, it turned out that these big spaces of clear water were not only harmless, but provided some entertainment too. And since he was in no rush and the weather didn't look like it was going to change soon either, he had stayed near the biggest lake he had yet seen and spent time exploring and eating.

It was around time the sun began to set, when he smelled fresh blood and with the promise of finding a figurative gingerbread house at the end of the trail, he followed it. Yet, much to his disappoinment the house had already been consumed and there was only the evil witch sleeping soundly. Torn between the decision of walking away and having some fun, he stood there for a while. And then decided for the latter. Making sure that in case of trouble he would have plenty of space to run off and a good headstart, he cleared his voice and called out to the stranger: "Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty!"

Kaizer's head jerked up, his body tensing as the voice drew his eye, and he found himself staring at a pale figure with eyes as bright as his chipper voice. Why anyone would purposely wake up a sleeping predator was presently beyond his capacity to understand. Not for a second did he believe the call had just been for the hell of it— there was no such thing as a reason like that!— so he got quickly to his feet, an expression of alarm set towards the snowy stranger intently. What? What happened?

The other's reaction was quite, what Birk had expected, and the shock and alarm in the gray fellow's face made him suppress laughter about the situation. "Chill out, man," he told him, however, taking some steps sideways, in case the guy was from those, who did not take jokes kindly. "Just making sure that you are still alive," he gave his reason and, since it sounded like such a nice one, he went on, "for a moment I thought that you might as well end up on my breakfast dish. That is - if you were dead, of course."

Yet the wolf did not seem entirely well - he could tell that from the scent of dried blood on the wolf's fur. "Who kicked your ass yesterday?" Birk asked sympathetically, realizing that he was slowly and inevitable building the solid brick road to trouble.

When it was suggested that Kaizer relax, it dawned on him slowly that there was nothing of concern to be ready for, and that his sleep had been disturbed for nothing but conversation. He was immediately grumpy, his brow furrowing as the pain in his arm returned in the absence of mind-numbing adrenaline, and he realized sleep wouldn't be easy to find again after the disruption. His ear flicked faintly as the male suggested that he would have eaten him if he'd been dead, and Kaizer's frown deepened, wondering what kind of depraved soul ate its own kind without absolute necessity. The pale wolf didn't appear to be starved, so it was his best guess that this guy was just some insane canine with a penchant for eating wolves that didn't wake to his shouting.

The question following, though slightly uncouth, didn't affect Kaizer in the way the stranger might have thought. It actually took him a little out of his bad mood, to think about last night's fight instead of his present concerns. "A couple kids beat me up and took my lunch," he said humorlessly, phrasing the event in a way he thought his gold-eyed company would better understand.

What Birk had said about eating a corpse of a wolf was meant as a joke, but not very far from truth. When hunger had been the worst, their group had gone after other predators - coyotes and foxes, and once - yes - they had finished a weak lone wolf. He had had no scruples about eating them, for at that time had seen them not as other sentient beings, but just food items. 

"One nasty bunch they must have been," the boy replied, feeling truly sorry for the guy. "So - I assume that you are a loner then?" for he saw no reason, why would kids abuse someone from their own ranks. Especially, since children had always stood on the lowest tier and therefore should have known some manners.

When asked if he was a loner, Kaizer automatically seemed a little ill-at-ease with the question, even if it was slightly rhetorical. He oddly didn't respond with a 'yes' or 'no' but instead seemed to mull over his response before choosing to say: "I intend to join them. The nasty bunch." He huffed without particular inflection, only using the phrase as it had been given, and regarding the pale, chatty wolf with an interested gaze that had seemed to have forgotten their irritation at being woken up.

Because he didn't like personal questions, he wasn't inclined to ask them, so this was -- unfortunately -- as much as he said.

"This sounds kind of... masochistic," Birk shrugged, wondering, why on Earth one would want to join a pack, which has beaten your ass big time already. But - hey - never judge, what makes other people happy. Even if it is the strangest thing in the world.

"That was mean - sorry," he apologized, in case his lack of tact had insulted the guy. "What is the pack you intend to join called?"

What sounded masochistic to the stranger, felt logical to the Bluesummer. Why wouldn't he want to join those capable of expending a potential threat? He hadn't exactly been respectful himself upon his return -- and he would try a different tactic the next time -- so it wasn't as if he didn't deserve the treatment he'd been given. Still, under the pretense of remaining enigmatic, he didn't explain any of this to his alarm clock.

An ear flicked at the apology, and Kaizer had the wherewithal to appear accepting of it rather than confused by it (which is how he really felt). The next question, one that finally wasn't personal, was unfortunately one he couldn't answer. He lifted one lean shoulder into a shrug; "I'd tell you if I knew... It's that mountain place," he added, motioning towards the flat-topped caldera, a place he didn't know was actually a long-extinct volcano. "If you dropped your habit of eating dead wolves for breakfast, I imagine you'd find a good home there too. Wolves willing to defend you, at least."

Kaizer wasn't a conversationalist by any means, but he knew the worth in attracting numbers and wouldn't pass up the opportunity to recruit, even for a pack he hadn't joined yet.

"Well... if I eat dead wolves for breakfast, then that says something about me, doesn't it?" Birk raised his eyebrows. How much protection and defence did a cannibal actually need? Why not stretch the truth just a little bit, eh? Even if he had not eaten a wolf in a very, very long time and, given the choice, he preferred to stick to the regular diet. 

"But I will consider that, thank you very much," he dipped his chin a little to indicate that the point had been taken. "But why wouldn't you look for some other pack though - one that actually treated you nicely? I mean - no offense - but being beaten up regularly won't help you much in being an effective and useful pack member."

"That you're misguided, but not beyond salvaging," Kaizer reasoned aloud. The stranger had at least thought to see if he was alive, rather than descending upon his undefended form like a true cannibal might have. His ear twitched against a irritating fly, but he didn't seem to miss anything that the pale wolf said; he even seemed like he might almost smile. "I don't need to find another pack, because I know this one is strong. I tested their mettle and they showed me what they had. I doubt I'll be fighting anyone once I find where I fall in their ranks, and I'm not interested in repeating the process elsewhere." Kaizer shrugged, feeling a little strange about sharing what he thought was pure logic. Didn't all wolves think/plan this way?

"Not exactly," Birk chuckled at the other's image of a wolf with cannibalistic tendences. "What I meant - if I eat one, then I am probably strong and cunning enough to bring one down too." Not that he counted himself in this category. The implication that he was a cannibal belonged to his conversation partner. All he had done had been... not denying and merely adding some spices to the story. 

"You think that after mettling with them they are going to welcome you with open hands?" Birk asked, because he could not... simply could not accept the fact that someone was willing to join a group that had tried to beat the shit out him in the first place. "You know what - don't answer that - none of my business anyway. What's your name, by the way?" the young wolf realized that he did not have that many acquaintances around here and getting to know at least some people from the kin would be useful.

The stranger, whether he had meant to or not, drew from Kaizer a genuinely amused feeling -- and he snorted to express as such, unable to remember the last time someone had made him laugh. "I'm not too sure about that. You did after all, check to see if I was dead first." If anything, that made him a coward, wanting to know how easy his prey would be before deciding whether or not to strike. "You had the drop on me," he unabashedly admitted, tossing in a shrug of lean shoulders for good measure. If he were the cannibalistic one (not that either of them were), he'd certainly had taken advantage of the unaware state he himself had been caught in.

He posed a good question then, which only served to lighten Kaizer's mood as he slowly began to accept that the wolf before him wasn't an idiot at all. Just young, maybe. He'd been prepared to answer, tail wagging and everything, before the male changed his mind on wanting to know the answer. Not to that question anyway. Not a second went by before he was asking something else. "Kaizer," he said without hesitation. "What's yours?"

"Birk," the white wolf replied, dipping his muzzle politely. It seemed for a while that after returning to the easier (read - normal) subjects worth discussing between two strangers the conversation had lost a bit of it's exquisite taste. For one - he did not know immediately, what to add. And secondly - he somehow had a feeling that wolf eating beasts and bad life choices would remain the only exciting things they would have to talk about.

"So... I get that you are not from here originally. Where did you live before?" anywhere exciting?

Sorry about the wait!

Kaizer fidgeted slightly when asked where he'd come from. It was clear on his face that he didn't want to answer. Wasn't it enough to know his name? He didn't want to talk about The Chalice, and he especially didn't want to talk about the Sunchasers; although the latter instance had more to do with a learned suspicion towards all who were not in his pack, rather than an inherent desire not to share. He could be, in theory, a very open and honest wolf, but it had been important to his birth family to keep any information about them entirely under wraps. They never took in outsiders, so there was no reason to divulge, let them explain it.

"I can't tell you," he said in a mysterious, and honest fashion. "Secret society rules and all," he added, because such a curious creature would not be sated by a mere "can't".

"Oh, okey, no problem with that," Birk replied, even though he was morbidly curious to hear the story of the secret society Kaizer claimed to be part of. Though not a great story-teller himself, he was an avid listener. Yet it was clear from the other's pained expression that he was not going to get out much of him. Oh well... that was a loss.

"I have run out of all the regular questions I could ask you," he continued after a brief moment of silence. "Therefore... here goes the silliest one - what do you think of the weather?"

Kaizer found his company to be both a delight and a bane, which in turn made it difficult to know when he should stop entertaining Birk's presence. His eyes got a little big when the snowshoe wolf claimed to be out of good questions, but then proceeded to offer up a bad one instead. Bluesummer snorted, "you're incorrigible."

Weather was irrelevant to a guy with ambitions beyond the scope of how warm or cold it was outside, and even though he felt a little irked by the twenty-questions, the side of his muzzle curved into a dry smirk. "I don't notice the weather much..." he admitted in mild kindness, probably aware that he hadn't been the best companion in the conversation department. "What do wolves who notice the weather typically say about it?"

"I will take that as a compliment," Birk replied and regarded Kaizer with a wide toothy grin. In-cor-rig-ible - that was some eloquent expression and since his first tongue was the common language on the Ice-fields and the one he was speaking fluently now came second, he was not exactly sure, if he understood, what the other wolf had meant by it. Might as well have been an insult and even so - Birk would not have minded. His pride was impossible to wound.

"Don't ask me - I have experienced only two kinds of weather - cold to your bones or... or less cold. Kind of... when you talk about seasons, there is a "green winter and a white winter". If you know, what I mean," he did realize that he was rambling now and that this conversation as exciting and character revealing as it had been, was coming to an end now.

Kaizer imagined that Birk's given coat color had a lot to do with where he had been born and they type of weather he consistently faced. Snow was only a issue a few months out the year where he was from, though as he listened to his company, he considered the fact that there might be places out there where it snowed more than it didn't... He sincerely hoped he wasn't trying to make a home in one of those places. "No wonder you're a cannibal," he remarked, joking— surprisingly.


He got to his feet, stretching his aching body and giving his dusty fur a shake before turning a light gaze on Birk. "I should get moving," he said, though in all actuality, he just wanted to find a more secluded place to sleep. He might've asked the man who'd done the waking to move along himself, but Kaizer wasn't inclined to remain in a spot he'd already been disturbed in once. "Until we meet again, Birk," he added, inclining his muzzle politely before turning to pad south of the lake.