Shadow Mountain But you and me were more like a disaster

He'd made it across the ridges and over rock slides, keeping his footing with experience and luck. 
His search hadn't come with much luck though, few wolves to come across and fewer still would want to join. 
The air had a metallic tang; thunderstorm. 

This place seemed good enough to bunker until it passed over. He wasn't prepared to let down his guard over the ground. The small copse looked inviting enough. He ducked under the tree cover, starting to made some sort of bed for the night and sleep out the storm.

Just his luck. Stranded on a mountain during a storm.

If Jean-Pierre's parents told him this was what he would amount to, perhaps he would've accepted his fate in Spiritlight Falls long ago. A groan escapes the beige wolfdog, doing his best to keep light on his webbed paws and avoid loose rock that would undoubtedly swallow him whole.

Thank goodness there is a tree ahead. Peering through as the winds grew stronger and the rain starts to fall, Jean-Pierre [carefully] rushes over... only to notice—why hello—it's occupied. 'Shit.'

Room for one more?

His head lifted. Tensing for a moment before he registered the words.
"Already a visitor to my humble abode." He grinned, meeting the other's eyes and shifting over to make room for the strange looking man. He kindled something laid to rest in his mind, but couldn't place it. He was sure it wasn't too bad, though.

"Caught out too on this delightful day, eh." It wasn't really a question more of a statement. A conversation starter really to pry more into his life of sorts. Not that he cared if he was prying. Others pried into his life too -- like Towhee.

Jean-Pierre tends to be a gambler.

In all honesty, this stranger could get defensive about the space, and it would be the worst time to flee from a fight. Thankfully, it's his lucky day. The man opens his door to him and wiggles over so there is just enough space for the small wolfdog to curl up next to him.

Thanks, man. The beige prince smiles. Dude got a weird way of talking, but Jean-Pierre kind of likes the unfamiliar. So he arches an eyebrow and gives a huffed, brief laugh.

Oh yeah, I love being soaked on some rocky mountain in the middle of nowhere. Despite the words, his tone remains light and amused. He crosses his paws, and shifts so red eyes roam the stranger. Thankfully I seem to be in good company.

"Nay problem," he replied in his off-handed way. He'd been given a lot of questions about himself in his life, but this man seemed to be questioning his voice -- with an expression -- this time. No matter. He was used to scrutiny. 
He laughed at his reply, "Who doesn't want to be soaked through?" He replied, hypothetically, in a tone that suggested everyone wanted to be in this shitty situation. 
Of course, he was in good company, but he wasn't about to bleet about that in an egotistical way. That wasn't really his style unless the guy was a Higoro. 

"What you doing up here then?" He asked as a soft rumble of thunder hummed through the sky, announcing the arrival of the show. 

Hm, I could name a few, he chims in. 'Party poopers, the lot of them.' One such ex-lover, however, absolutely loved everything associated with water. The beaches and rivers were their calling, and Jean-Pierre quickly formed the theory of them being part otter. They would be overjoyed right now.

Flirtatious pickups along the lines of fate and destiny with such a handsome man being lonely in his tiny abode on a lone mountain linger on the tip of his tongue. Certainly it would make their meeting interesting.

That's a good question, the beige prince says instead, leaning closer towards the male at the flash of lightening followed by the sound of close by thunder. Got nowhere else to go. Bit of a lie, but he's avoiding said place.

And you? Do you truly live on this mountain?

He quirked a brow with an air of surprised amusement. Whoever they were, they probably didn't have a care in the world. Though, what was said next was what really interested him. Recruitment potential for sure.

"Nah, I'm out recruiting for Asterism Grove down uh south-west." He just liked to use hyperbole grandeur as humor. He wondered where this man came from and if he had a direction or quest. Perhaps he could be steered to join him. 
"I'm Leen." He stated, hoping to prompt a name from his new acquaintance -- and hopeful friend.

Recruitment, ah.

Count the beige prince conflicted. An eyebrow arches, torn between curiosity and grimacing. Lightning lights the sky outside. A picturesque atmosphere for Jean-Pierre, who has never been quite a fan of packs for good reason.

Hmm, the Frenchman hums, conveying interest without questioning further.

And I am Jean-Pierre. 'Leen of Asterism Grove.' Tell me more of your pack? He prompts, and crosses his forepaws.

His lips quirked in mild pleasure. He was glad Jean had found interest in the Grove.
At least he wouldn't go back fruitless. He looked off into the storm, his tail softly brushing the floor.
"The location is good from a defensive point. Only one real border, the sides of the forest are bordered by mountains and dead ends." Less need to guard should be an incentive. It left more for one to explore their own desires, such as botany or something.

"Phox, the leader, is fair and stern. It'll be a ship that won't sink. Towhee, his sister, is deaf but is much the same. Bolder, I'd say." In short, really. He wouldn't mention the pups. Not yet. They could make some wolves funny and he needed to make sure he'd join because of the pack, not because he was a pup-knapper or something.
He thought for a moment.
"What can you bring to the pack?" He watched Jean, his expression was careful but open.

The territory sounds heavenly, a place easy to defend? Less need for him to act like a soldier, a position thus far the small wolfdog has undoubtedly failed at. The scars marring his side are an ugly reminder of his failures.

Alas, Asterism Grove sounds delightful. In a way that Jean-Pierre is certain he won't last long even if he dips his toes in. That is, unfortunately, how it often goes with him and packs. Oil and water.

Well, outside the usual 'pulling my weight' spiel, I make for a decent scout. Lips quirk in an amused smile. And I suppose I could unlock my rusty talents in Chronicling, too.

He chuckled, nodding slightly. Promising.
So, a hard worker and useful. Good. 
"Am sure you'd fit right in, lad, no worries." He gave him an encouraging grin.
He wasn't too different from himself in many ways though seemed to try his hand at more. He liked Jean, in short.

"I s'pose we'll leave when the storm clears off. I don't plan on going any further east." He hoped his new acquaintance would be ok with that, though he seemed to just be drifting. 

Ah, excellent. So I'll be able to see the Grove soon, hm? The beige wolfdog comments, flicking his long, curled tail. It is a relief, if he is being honest, that he no longer has to worry about going east. This mountain range is perhaps as far as he wishes to go at the moment.

Maybe you'll get lucky and charm another into your posse while we travel there, he remarks, waggling his eyebrows in amusement. Alas, for now, they are stuck next to each other until the storm blows over, and Jean-Pierre won't complain. After all, Leen is quite the looker.

"Of course. Providing you pass inspection." He smirked, knowing full well Towhee or Phox -- perhaps even both -- would ask questions. He could only hope it was not together. He saw how they could click and combine forces. 
He stretched out, yawning and flopping on his side, his belly facing Jean. 

"I'd like to think I'm not a shit ambassador. Though, I guess it is what it is." His smirk turned lazy as he lay his head on the thin dusting of foliage, his thoughts drifting. This life wasn't all bad, he guessed. Yeah, a lot of it sucked ass but times like this made it worthwhile.

Oh, great. Inspection. Is it too late to say "nevermind"? Jean-Pierre suspects it may be, so he ignores the discomfort in favor of lifting an eyebrow as Leen shifts.

Getting comfy? The wolfdog teases. With their current predicament and Leen being decently handsome, typically Jean-Pierre couldn't resist making a move.

But he supposes doing so on a potential packmate again will end the same way its always had. He wouldn't say no, though.

Well, maybe you could start by having more confidence, Mr. "Not-A-Shit-Ambassador".

He looked to his friend with a dumb grin. 
"Of course, sweetie." He laughed, his chuckle raspy and chesty. He eyed Jean when he finally stopped, giving him sultry eyes. He hadn't missed the looks he was given.

"I have plenty of confidence, friend. It's the matter of others wanting to take the jump." He'd never found it hard to integrate into a pack -- being a former rouge. Those days should be over now. He was reinvented. 

He lay on his side, facing Jean. Just contemplating. Watching. No, admiring. He couldn't say though. They'd just met.