Permafrost Hollows half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers

the vartija || border marking

there is palpable relief when wintersbane reaches the borders of the permafrost hollow, taking in the scents of the recruits that have thus far made their way here and begin to get to work. recruitment was such a bitch — a lesson he'd learned while trying and otherwise failing to recruit for blackfeather woods. the one distinct advantage he had this time was he decided what was transparent information and what was not ...and as the vartija was not going to be ran on a keen veil of secrecy all information was readily transparent to the loners that wintersbane came across.

the recruitment drive is far from done, he knows. he will have to once more venture beyond the land they've begun to lay claim to, to recruit; but not right now. right now, he wanted to take a break from what feels like aimless wandering and focus on strengthening the border foundations already lain and helping the recruits that stay to hold down the fort in building food caches and basic medical caches — though it occurs to him with a curl of his lip that there wouldn't be much medicinal herbs or plants to be found in the fucking dead of winter.

for now, the tundrian is glad to be in the welcoming embrace of the place he'd subconsciously begun to think of as home. he lifts his leg and urinates upon the border marking and begins to follow the scent path, urinating, rubbing his scent upon nearby trees and kicking up clumps of frozen earth to utilize the scent glands in his pawpads.

Epic was not a wolf who truly enjoyed the season of winter. It was freezing cold, prey grew scarce and survival was more of a challenge. He also did not like the feeling of the snow caught between his toes and the crunching sound of snow that betrayed his presence with every step that he took. Although there were a few things he could appreciate; he enjoyed the winter scenery. The way the world looked when it was wrapped in a blanket of pure, white snow. Especially when the sun would set and several contrasting colors lit up the sky; at those moments he appreciated the serenity while admiring a picture perfect.

As the young male was out-and-about, exploring the edges of the Snowforest Taiga there was a distinct scent that was carried across his cool, damp nostrils, causing them to take another deep whiff. It was the outspoken scent of fresh, yellow urine mixed in between a few strong scents. Epic couldn't help but to pull a 'yucky-face'; as much as he understood the want and need to put up a wall for stragglers (like himself) and other outsiders there was something about the scent he just didn't like. 

Regardless, curiosity won him over and Epic was on his way to the borders. "Hey!" The lone wolf said out loud as she spotted the wolf who had been marking the territory. His greeting was truly loud as he stayed a distant away from border security; both out of respect for the soon-to-form pack but also out of safety. What were these wolves like? Well, he was about to find out.

thank you for saving this lonely thread! ♥

it's easy for wintersbane to lose himself in tasks that are routine to him. eventually, after it's been routine long enough he is capable of preforming the tasks without giving it all of his focus. not exactly the best thing when it comes to his reputation as a soturi — a guardian and warrior should be vigilant at all times. and yet. well sometimes his mind wanders. as he works on strengthening borders already marked and marking where it was abandoned previously for some other menial foundling pack task wintersbane is physically present but his thoughts are less on his task at hand and more on going through the elaborate mental list of what's left. it was pretty long still. not daunting per say, while it was true there was no guidebook on how to form a pack and no easy way of doing it ( that he's been made aware of anyway ) he understood that it was going to take a lot of time, a lot of patience and a lot of work.

still, there are days where he feels like they've made progress only to take two steps back shortly thereafter; and with valkyr lying low until her estrus cycle ended ( wintersbane insists because he's not in the mood to have to castrate someone ) and vonn presumably still on the coast trying to repay his life debt; for the moment the majority of the tasks fall upon derg and himself. it's a slow going process but wintersbane has to remind himself that slow going is still progress.

hey! the call breaks the tundrian out of his revere and he swings his head around to fixate his glacial gaze upon the stranger that has called out to him. the borders are being respected and though wintersbane could hardly be rightfully perturbed by strangers still traipsing through his land the hollows while it was in the process of being claimed ...he doesn't like the idea at all and appreciates this stranger's respect. he alters his course and heads in the stranger's direction, temporarily abandoning his border marking in lieu of conversation. hey. wintersbane returns as his steps draw to a halt a few feet away. can i help you?

<3

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Poor Wintersbane, had Epic only half the responsibilities of the Tundra-male and he wouldn't be able to handle the situation. Being a traveler by heart also meant being care-free (or actually having to take only care of your own needs). And with responsibilities it truly was a daily task; from warding off lone stragglers on the edge of the borders to chaining females in heat who would otherwise breed with almost everything having male parts dangling between their legs. Still, those responsibilities also brought forth funny, comical and awkward situation that deserved some kudos. Yes, poor Wintersbane (but I had a good laugh, kudos well-deserved!).

At the same time Epic knocked on some doors and he truly had no idea who or what he would meet. Somehow the thought of meeting an Alpha made him nervous; not the fact that any wolf could eat his face, no, instead the possibility of meeting an authority figure. Oh boy. 

The wolf who had done the strong, fresh markings near the borders was slowly heading towards him. "Ru-ow." Slowly the young male adopted a more respectful stance to show his good intentions. "Hey, you're the border marking wolf. Your scent wall worked; it's all over the place." Stench, that was what he wanted to say instead. It worked like an invisible do-not-enter sign but still Epic didn't like the smell of pee (no matter from who). "My name is Epic and I came across your lands by chance. It's a pleasure to meet you. Is a new pack forming here?" The young male wanted to know; maybe because so far there weren't many packs but that could also be because it was just a small pack that settled quite a while ago.

border marking guy. for some reason, though it's completely true, this draws a bubble of mirth from within the tundrian's chest. a laugh that makes it from betwixt his lips as a snicker instead of the actual laugh. he's been called a lot of things but border marking guy? that's a first. one of them, yeah. wintersbane replies nonchalantly. good. spoken unapologetically and firmly. when the vartija was official he'd have plenty to worry about with rank challenges and perhaps a vie for his own rank when he allowed it to be open for challenges to have to worry about his borders not keeping strangers and interlopers out.

i am wintersbane, the sotaherra offers his name in exchange when the male offers him his own. epic. trying to, wintersbane replies honestly with a half shrug. we're called the vartija. he offers epic a bit more information, reminding himself that regardless of interest or lack thereof he and the vartija are in no predicament where he can afford not to be liberal with sharing the ideas of what he hopes to build. word could be spread by those beyond the vartija and it could be a useful tool in garnering interest in parties that wintersbane otherwise might've never had a chance to reach.

he's not a snitch for the dark brotherhood anymore. he doesn't have to deal in secrets and keep them hoarded to his chest like a greedy dragon.

While Epic had met a few adventurous wolves who had decided to strike down at Teekon Wilds, marking their borders and making sure no intruders dared to enter, none of them had a name as exotic as Var-var-vartija. In his head he puzzled with the words, trying to pronnounce the name but nothing that made sense rolled off his tongue.

"Oof, that's quite an exotic name." Epic said with a light smile while trying to avoid the situation that he had to pronnounce those words. "But what does it mean?" He wondered quite out loud with an edge of curiosity to his question. And while every pack had foundations, beliefs and traditions such an exotic name also made his curiosity even more hungry to learn more of the pack that would form soon.

"What's the idea behind ..V-v-..your pack?" Epic remained quiet after that question; he had a bad habit of overloading anyone with a dozen questions but for now he waited. If this information would be kept secret then such a thing would also be answer; that this kept probably kept mostly to themselves. Either way, he was about to find out more tidbits about the Vartija.

by this point, wintersbane is used to the curiosity around the name he's chosen for his empire home. tundrian doesn't appear to be much of a shared tongue in the wilds and in some respects that makes it all the more special to him. it is something he's shared with his mother; a tether that keeps them together despite that she has left the corporeal world behind her. it — along with his build and general appearance — is a statement that he is the son of the nightingale queen: lotte ansbjørn. in my mother's native tongue it loosely translates to the wardens.

which is a perfect prelude to the answer to epic's next question though a pause is given to offer var-ti-jah slower, this time, being sure to enunciate patiently. he is used to saying it quickly, to having tundrian roll off of his tongue. the vartija is going to operate a bit differently than a 'traditional' pack. inspired by stories of my ancestors, it's going to be a 'war clan' where regular spars are encouraged to keep skills sharp ...but wolves don't have to be warriors or rogues to join. i just feel that it's beneficial to know how to fight even if it's to defend one's self. pretty much what i've seen of the packs i've ran with are that ranks are unchallengeable. you claw your way up and hope that if you're ambitious enough you reach as high as you want to go. there's nothing wrong with that and i like the idea of ranks being decided by contribution, yes, but also by one's own ambition. all ranks in the regular hierarchy should be challengeable but the pack should get it's say, should be allowed to interfere if they don't agree especially if it comes to leadership.

with the monologue spoken, wintersbane falls into a contemplative and watchful silence then, his glacial gaze studying epic's face for a reaction.

There was something very exciting about learning from other packs, those that started out just yet or those that were already settled. Every pack had their own dynamics, their own structure and members and also of course their own story and background. So, the Vartija. He toyed with idea, as if the word was bouncing around on his tongue.

"So it's a pack for ambitious wolves then?" Epic questioned as Wintersbane began to describe that the rules and regulations of this pack were different. It was about fighting, about defending yourself, about strength and those who was strongest would rule. With this notion his eyes beemed at Wintersbane as he forgot all about the stenchy scent of piss but instead viewed the winter-born male as strong, a ruler and a fighter.

But there was also something he didn't quite understand just yet. "Y-you said war clan." Just how ambitious would this pack be? "Do you also go to war to expend your regions and borders?" Epic wondered out loud as he figured that not all were satisfied with the territory they just claimed, there were those who were out for more.

i like to think it's a pack for anyone, wintersbane corrects, thinking through his words carefully, trying to put to words the idea behind his brain child. but ambition or lack thereof will decide whether wolves climb the ranks or not. if a wolf isn't ambitious and doesn't put forth the effort that others do then they won't climb up the ranks — it was as simple as that. his hope is to eliminate any leadership bias by taking himself out of the equation by allowing rank challenges and only stepping in when a meditator is needed to break a tie.

the taiga is unclaimed except for us and right now our claim on it's resources, hunting grounds and herds go unchallenged, unlimited hunting grounds and freedom to stretch out as they pleased. though wintersbane does not expect it to stay like this forever with the influx of packs to the western regions but for the moment he plans to take full advantage of it. i don't believe in senselessly instigating wars, but does that mean he wouldn't bully packs that park too close to his territory or on his hunting grounds? not necessarily. his priority was the vartija and the survival of others pack wasn't his problem; cruel as it seemed.

but what justifies a war and what doesn't is subjective. if a pack threatens the vartija's survival by claiming territory too close to ours or our chosen hunting grounds then perhaps, he replies clinically, viewing it from a tactician's point of view. but i like to think in most situations i would try diplomacy first. going to war meant risking the lives of his wolves and that in and of itself wasn't a decision to be made lightly. we are wardens of the taiga and i may call myself a warlord but i won't endanger the lives of my wolves unless it's deemed necessary. but the truth was, wintersbane couldn't predict how he'd handle that sort of situation until he was in it.

the pair exchange a few more words before eventually the other male departs and wintersbane is left to continue with his patrol.