Northstar Vale we are stardust stories

for chan & her @Rannoch; guardian thread~! also, weird post is weird, lmao

Mato rises as the first vestiges of sunrise peak over the horizon: a defiant streak of golden light intent to conquer the velveteen umbra of night as it’s ascension to it’s heavenly throne begins. Still, the stars breathe defiance and cling to as tightly as they dare only to eventually be overcome by the myriad of pastels dawn paints in it’s wake. The druid’s belly is filled with a fox he found trying to dig into one of their food caches. He pauses at a water source within the vale to sate his thirst and clean his muzzle free of the gruesome blood that stains the moonbeam silver and dusting of ebony upon it before he heads to the borders. Patrolling is both relatively new and yet a task the empyrean greets like an old friend. He has not before a few days ago taken it upon himself to actively patrol; but it’s familiarity stems from the times he had joined his father upon the Fen’s borders. He deigns to be more of a physical presence in the Vale, to protect what the accomplishment he had witnessed the very birth of. Just as the earth was nothing without her guardians neither was the pack without it’s wolves; and lately Mato has spent much time with his head in the clouds that he has forgotten he is corporeal: a being of flesh and blood tethered and bound by duty to the earth: to nourish and protect her …and to the wolves of the Vale, as well.

Thus far the borders are quiet and there are no foreign scents to perturb him and Mato lets himself get lost in the simplicity and routine of it.

It was wonderful as always. <3 Thanks for starting!

When patrolling, Rannoch had grown used to the myriad of scents that had settled upon their borders. The ones that lingered were familiar, betraying the identities of the wolves that often perused the Vale's boundaries. As of late,  a new scent had joined the ranks of those that remained persistent: Mato. The Alpha was pleasantly surprised to see the moonlight kissed druid frequenting the borders more often and he wondered just what had driven him to patrol. In the days since Rannoch had first sampled Mato's scent upon the boundaries, he attempted to cross paths with him, but it always seemed as though the two men just missed each other. 

Finally, the day came where Rannoch caught wind of Mato's fresh scent upon the borders. Eager to run into his packmate, Rannoch quickened his pace until the other man was in sight, following the trail that the druid has left. When Mato was in sight, the Alpha slowed to a more casual pace and let out an eager wuff in an attempt to grab the other's attention.

“Haran,” Mato greets Rannoch in the tongue of the Druids as his leader’s wuff breaks through the serene silence and the wandering of Mato’s thoughts and the glimpse over the moonbeam druid’s shoulder reveals the owner of the voice to be his Alpha. “Alpha” is so harsh a word in the empyrean’s opinion so he favors the druid word for king over it …as he does not suspect he and Rannoch know one another anywhere near enough to greet the Vale leader with such a lack of formality as using his name. A deep head bow of submission is given — the best Mato can offer while on the move for while he has slowed down to allow Rannoch to catch up to him his steps have not faltered. It is true that the borders are not the empyrean’s usual haunt and it occurs to him that perhaps Rannoch might find his presence here to be befuddling. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Mato asks his leader with a small smile tugging upon his lips, a wag of his tail given to show that he does not mind, of course. He does not know Rannoch well and it was true that their paths have always eluded one another aside from the small moments when they did not but it has been some time since the pair had spoken one on one.

Naturally, as Rannoch was as curious as a housecat, he sought the meaning of the strange word that Mato offered. "What was that?" he inquired as he quickened his pace to meet the younger wolf's stride. Given Mato's help, it did not take Rannoch long to be alongside the starlit-kissed druid, and once he was in position, he fixed the other with a look of good-natured curiosity. 

Meeting the other's words similarly-natured gestures, the leader answered his subordinate quickly, decided on the theme that had settled between them thus far: "Curiosity." With his characteristically-sunny expression and the jovial wave of his tail, the Alpha elaborated. "I've been catching your scent on the border more often, and I've meant to reach out and see how you've been." He felt sorry that he did not have more time to catch up with those in his pack, but, such was life as the top-dog. "So, tell me, what have you been up to Mato?" Even with the occasionally passive sniff out of instinct, the majority of Rannoch's attention was devoted solely to silver-furred man.

Mato offers Rannoch a small smile when his leader inquires as to what it was he spoke. “Haran,” Mato repeats the word, slower, sounding it out in the hopes that Rannoch might appreciate the flowing and elegant tongue of the druids as Mato does. “it means: King.” He offers with a reassuring bubble of mirth in his throat — it only occurs to the empyrean now (much too late) that Rannoch could have taken insult to the word unknown to him and he seeks to assure his superior that the druid word bestowed upon him is a honor and not an insult. Curiosity, Rannoch replies to Mato’s question. Ah. Something that Mato knows well, then. “Too busy with my head in the clouds,” He admits, sheepishly and with remorse. It is one thing to aspire to be astronomer and geologist but in his intense obsession with what is celestial he has neglected Northstar Vale. “but no more! At least, I shall be sure to restrict my …preoccupations so I do not forget I am not borne of stardust.” He jests, and gives a soft clear of his throat in a soft rumble. “I seek the mercenary trade now to that I have earned naturalist.” He supposes Hunter would have worked just as well but something in him is drawn to mercenary (warrior or guardian he does not yet know!).

“How are things for you?” Mato returns with true interest in his leader’s life — though only what Rannoch is willing to share, of course as Mato respects his right to privacy.

Humbled by the title in which Mato has bestowed upon his, the Alpha dipped his head momentarily with a smile, as if outwardly expressing his gratitude for such a grand title. "You're too kind," he mused. Despite his title as top-dog, Rannoch had never likened himself to a King. From the stories that he had been told as a child, and from what he had inferred, Kings rarely sought the company of their subordinates. Instead, they remained locked away with their bounty to allow the others to govern. Despite what he thought, Rannoch found Mato's words to be nothing but kindly intended. 

What followed the compliment was a confession and Rannoch nodded. Summer marked a new chapter for the wolves of the Vale, and the once-migrant pack had settled into a comfortable routine. Despite him not regularly crossing paths with some of his members, as his routine often carried him to the outskirts of his territory, the Vale was still thriving, and the Alpha couldn't be happier. 

"News of your ambitions please me, Mato," he rumbled fondly. "It will be great to have another mercenary among our ranks," and honestly, Rannoch saw Mato's decision fitting. The Omicron had fancied himself a defender of Mother Earth, and Rannoch was pleased that he would extend his loyalty to the Vale. "I can help you with learning the ropes of the borders, too, if you want." 

When asked of his well-being, Rannoch reflected on all that had happened since the pair had spoken last. "I've been very well," he decided, as life has been smooth sailing even with the occasional road bump. "The Vale has been doing surprisingly well, and we gained a new member, too. Mouse. Have you met him?" He paused, allowing time for the other to respond before continuing. "I also spent time around our neighboring territories to see if there was any trace of bears and, thankfully, I found none." But even with this reassurance, Rannoch still found himself plagued by the occasional nightmare.

Rannoch speaks that for naming him as king that this makes Mato too kind; it is a humble musing that his leader makes and Mato contemplates it. Mato speaks the truth: Rannoch has demonstrated himself as Alpha and thus far proven that despite his youth he can lead them. It is a title that belongs to him regardless of whether he thinks it fits him or not. It is, in many ways Mato supposes, sort of how he does not necessarily agree with Rannoch proclaiming him as kind — for he is not always. Like any house cat he resembles personality wise, his sass, and excessive interest (or lack thereof) is accompanied by a haughty demeanor that can lend way to a superiority complex. Kind does not seem to fit into that self assessment seamlessly, but Mato keeps his musings securely to himself.

“I would appreciate that.” Mato speaks in response to Rannoch’s offer. “I have watched my father tend to visitors upon the borders of my birth pack,” Mato admits. “but I am not my father.” And unlikely to be half as patient and pleasant as Sebastian. “And you may perhaps wish situations handled differently.” It is easy for Mato to assume that every Alpha has a certain way they’d like things to be handled until they can appear to take the situation into their own hands. Mato is willing to learn beneath Rannoch’s direction and is, more or less, a blank slate for Rannoch to mold how he would like.

“I have not,” The empyrean admits, thinking that if he’d have met a male by the name of Mouse he would have remembered (but as it stands he knows few, even still, except for Rannoch, Rain, Cypress and Liffy — of whom he met briefly and his uncles Pyro and Vassago). “That is good,” Mato muses in contemplative tone. “Have you sought to make introductions with neighboring packs, yet?” Of course, the Vale was doing quite well on it’s own and Mato wasn’t so sure what his thoughts were on alliances but still it seemed prudent to ask, especially since as an aspiring guardian he did not wish to chase off a wolf he was meant to greet as friend.

Rannoch appreciated the manner in which Mato approached the topic. Even with his previous experience with observing Sebastian, he wanted to make sure that his carrying out of the trade was to Rannoch's liking. The Alpha gave a dip of his head in approval, his support in Mato's words obvious. To give Mato an indication of his expectations, he offered: "I like to treat every wolf with respect who obeys our borders unless prompted to otherwise. But those who trespass are not to be tolerated." He wondered if these expectations varied from what the Omicron's father had taught. 

When the aspiring guardian admitted that he had not met Mouse, the Alpha nodded. "I'd like you to seek him out when you can and help him feel welcomed," he instructed with the intentions of not wanting Mouse to feel isolated in his new home. "I think he'll be a great addition to our family," he added as an afterthought.

"Yes, the wolves of the Feathery Woods came to welcome us. At first, I was suspicious of their name, but, they seemed to be nice enough." Nyx had been elusive in the information she provided. Despite this, Rannoch had felt comfortable enough with the information that he had given and received. "I would like to expand our horizons and start working on alliances with other packs." It had been something he and Cypress had talked about for quite some time, and Rannoch felt as though now was the time to strike them up before Winter hit. "Is this something you'd be interested in helping me with?" he asked, finding himself curious to know if this is why Mato had brought it up. He knew it would be a great opportunity to involve the star-kissed adolescent and Rannoch would do his best to allow Mato the oppratunities he sought.

Respect unless prompted otherwise and no trespassers tolerated. In truth, it was fairly straightforward and pretty close — if not spot on — to how Sebastian guarded his own borders. “And how should we handle strangers that linger at our borders that do not rise call to alert us to their presence?” Mato inquires, thinking of the strange boy he (and Redshank) came across the other day: the one of silver and sand. Admittedly, Mato had met him with suspicion and retained that suspicion throughout the entire meeting, but it would be refreshing to hear how Rannoch expects that sort of border run-in handled and Mato would adjust himself accordingly, as if he is a clock whose hands simply need a little nudge to the right time. An umbra dipped ear swiveled atop his crown and he offers a sage nod and a soft noise of confirmation when Rannoch tells him he is to meet Mouse and make the other feel welcome. “I will seek him out after our patrol.” Mato promises, knowing that it is beneficial that the members of the Vale are, at least, familiar with one another.

“Feathery Woods?” Mato inquires with a head tilt, a tickle of mirth threatening to rise up his throat. For some reason, the name amused him. “I’d like to see this Feathery Woods, to see why they call it such.” Perhaps the leaves look like feathers? Or perhaps it is filled with downy soft moss? For though Mato was the first to bring up the topic of alliances he is nevertheless surprised when Rannoch extends the question of whether or not alliances is something the druid would be interested in assisting Rannoch with. He had asked because he believes it is the duty of all pack members to be well versed in the politics of their pack. “I could try to assist,” Mato draws in a contemplative tone. “I am not sure how good of a diplomat I’ll make but I am always willing to try something new.” Mato offers with a lofty rise and fall of his shoulders. He had always thought such a task was left to leaders as opposed to mere subordinates — or youths (especially youths!) for sometimes he forgets he is not even yet an adult; surely an easy enough mistake for he is mature beyond his age.

Mato pauses, then, as a errant scent catches his attention but he lifts his leg to mark over it — a fox scent a few days old — and makes to catch back up to his Haran.

Considering Mato's inquiry, the Alpha fell silent for a moment as he attempted to decide what would be the best answer for this particular scenario. "We will be cautious in our approach. If the individual is cooperative, we'll let them off with a warning. If they aren't, then I would not hesitate to use physical force. The pack can always be called upon if you need backup." The more information he divulged, the more curious Rannoch grew in the practices that Sebastian had practiced in the Fen. Despite his interest, his curiosity went unmentioned. There would be a time and a place to inquire, but, the Alpha felt that the time was not now. Instead of voicing his questions, the matter in Mouse's welcoming was resolved by the starlight Omicron. "I appreciate it," he murmured fondly to the younger wolf. 

"You know, I was pretty doubtful that that was their actual name," Rannoch began on the topic of the Feathery Woods. He had been skeptical, but, Nyx had never proven herself to be untrustworthy. She had turned out to be just the opposite. "But after talking to Nyx, the wolf who had come to introduce herself, she seemed to know what she was talking about and I had no reason to question her." He shrugged. "But, yes, I'd like to see these woods for myself. I think I'll have somebody scout them out in a few weeks before Autumn begins to hit." He would need all hands on deck when the colder winds blew in to prepare for Winter. 

Once more Rannoch appreciated Mato's willingness to help out. "I'd appreciate it," as he spoke, the other wolf paused to mark over a stale fox scent. He slowed considerably until Mato was back at his side and it was then that the pair resumed their speed. "I'll keep you updated on when I'll want us to embark." 

this seems like a good place to wrap this up. feel free to reply once more or archive as is. :-)

Mato gives a sage nod as Rannoch tells him how best to handle the situation. It is easy enough to remember: how he reacts is to be contingent on the level of cooperation. If there is none physical force is not to be frowned upon; if there is cooperation a warning shall be given. Mato has never thought himself as a brawler simply because he is not a fighter and does not have a drive to fight but could defending really be considered the same thing? Mato knew that if push came to shove he would defend the Vale. Umbra dipped ears swiveled in his leader’s direction as Rannoch spoke about having doubts about Feathery Woods, at first. He had to admit he’d never heard of such a territory before but that didn’t mean it did not exist. There was much of the Teekons that the druid has left unexplored. He’d lived a sheltered life, he sees now. Mato, for he did not feel words were necessary (strange, that), offered Rannoch another sage nod as he spoke that he would be told when the leader was ready to head out on the journey. Mato has asked all he had wanted to inquire of his leader and was content, now, to continue on their patrol in relative silence.

Like Mato, Rannoch was content in continuing their patrol in the comfortable silence that had settled between them. They would walk the length of the borders, stopping every so often to investigate and eventually mask the foreign smells that he intruded past the boundaries. Finally, as the sun was just beginning to the fall, the two wolves parted ways as their job was done for now. They had done good work on their patrol and, for now, they could rest assured that the Vale's scent was implemented.