Sun Mote Copse she's been living on the highest shelf

Wraen walked along the northern perimeter of Sun Mote Copse's borders, checking and, where needed, renewing the scent marks left by other guardians, and reading the footprint patterns to see, who had come and gone during the night. She stopped briefly, where a couple of crows had had their fight and feast - there was an indiscriminate piece of bone left, picked clean, and small, black feathers scattered around. A bit of bird shit included - as per usual.

Half a mile later Wraen's interest was drawn to strange scratch marks on the bark of a tree, she sniffed eagerly around the edges of torn bark, then examined the immediate area around the tree. The snow here had thawed during the day and footprints were no longer discernible. The same applied to the smell. Nevertheless she made a mental note to report this to her team of guardians.

Other noteworthy events on her journey were - a pile of smelly droppings left by a fox, typical hoove-prints of small deer and uncovered patches of grass, where the ungulate had had it's meal and she came face to face with the striped muzzle of a badger. The animal seemed to be a little grumpy and somewhat slow. Wraen did not know, if the smaller carnivore hibernated during winter and was annoyed, because something had woken it up.

The Sovereign did not make a move to hunt it down, because she recalled an old story, how coyotes and badgers would sometimes cooperate, while hunting. Therefore she watched it shuffle away and began to follow it, keeping a little distance between them. If she found out, where it's burrow was, she could find out, if there was any truth in the myth.

Badgers and coyotes cooperating - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVO4XIxjIEQ

Whatever drama that unfolded between his prior packmates was mostly lost on the golden Ostrega. Towhee was bummed about something these days—and he was pretty sure Phox was pretty preoccupied these days as well. It wasn’t that he didn’t care—it was simply that he didn’t want to barge into the business of others.

So Pippin did what Pippin did best—he kept to the shadows and to himself, keeping curious watch from afar to his new pack mates and considering his place among them. Asterism Grove had felt more of a home to him than Firebirds, but it didn’t seem logical, given it was primarily Towhee he followed.

Whether he liked it or not, he would need to better integrate himself with the others. Try to trust in them, even if his ability to easily do such an act had been left within Hushed Willows many, many moons ago.

Wraen was the first he came across, and he considered her a moment. She seemed uptight—the sort that was the fun police in most matters. But what did he really know about her?

Plodding forward, Pippin ignored the stiffness in his haunch from his prior injury, now healing quite nicely and with a badass scar serving as the only visible memory. Hawk-like eyes upon his leader, the Ostrega was about to utter a greeting when he noted she seemed to be tracking something, and so the male drifted closer to her, waiting to see her reaction to his presence.

It does not take long for an experienced hunter to realize that they have become an object of interest themselves. Wraen felt Pippin's gaze settle on her and she turned to meet Towhee's particular friend eye to eye. There was a moment of indecisiveness - she watched the badger trudge ahead, then glanced at the golden-pelted packmate. And sighed - she will find the striped neighbour later and get to know the newcomer now.

"Salute plurimam dicit. Si vales, bene est, ego valeo," she told the fellow with a cheeky smile. Wraen (and so did her narrator realize) that she was a bit of a show off, by using, whet little Latin she knew, but sometimes a simple "hello" or "hi" gets too boring. And it was a good way to find out, if the Tradesman had any sense of humour.

“Many greetings. If you’re well, then that’s good, and I’m well too.” From the list of "15 Terrific Alternatives to "Hello"" Found in the endless depths of Google Search. :)

She spoke to him in gibberish, and the tawny male tried to recount his original meeting of the silver woman--from what he recalled, despite his focus having been sharply upon Towhee, relieves and frustrated by her escape from the Grove's confines, he couldn't recall anything other than English. 

All he thought he understood from her words was something about an ego. Did she think he had an ego?

He flashed a cheeky grin. "No clue what you just said but I'll be magnanimous and assume it was all compliments," he decided.

"Pretty close, pretty close," Wraen nodded, though it was not clear from the tone of her voice, whether she meant it in earnest or she was vaguely pointing out to some underwater stones that Pippin was not aware off. It would not be half as interesting, if she revealed everything (a woman has to have secrets after all) and did not explaine anything beyond, what she had just said.

"So, I understand that you are a sweetheart of Towhee's?" she asked next, choosing something she had learned from Niamh: attack tactlessly and directly. "Not that she would ever reveal that to me, but I had not seen that amazon of a woman practically melt, when meeting someone."

She hadn’t cared to elaborate, and he didn’t want to seem ruffled by it—which he was—so the golden wolf tipped a scruffy muzzle, eyeing her with a glint of amusement before letting her greeting drift to the wayside. They both knew he was curious about it—but there were other things to discuss.

Surprise flickered across his features for a moment and the Ostrega found he couldn’t withhold a snort of dry amusement. Towhee and he, sweethearts?

Musing with curiosity at how crass he could possibly be with his new leader, Pippin instead chose a more appropriate route—

“The only thing Towhee melts for is a good banter,” he mused, a smirk quirking at the corner of his inked lips. His relationship with Towhee was complicated at best, and yet it was also solidly the longest friendship he had maintained.

But were they even friends? Fuck if he knew.

If there was one thing that made Pippin uncomfortable, it was focusing on just him. Thus: “If that’s your way of trying to ask if I’m single, then the answer is yes. I am.”

Insert a rather exaggerated wink, here.

"I have bantered with her quite a lot recently and never saw her react to me like that," Wraen teased. "Can't decide, should I ask you, what your secret is or should I be simply jealous of you." 

"That's nice to know. We don't have too many wolves here that are neither Blackthorns, nor Redhawks. Despite not being either of the two, I am still Towhee's cousin. Just because her dad - my uncle changed his noble family name for something fancy and imaginary," she explained.

"And on the whole we need to level out the female dominance here," she added. "So - how did you come here and where are you from originally?"

“Maybe I’ll try to make a handbook,” he mused, knowing that would be impossible. Towhee was as predictable as the weather. Maybe some had the talent for doing so—but he wasn’t an astrologer or a skywatcher, and likewise, he wasn’t exactly great at reading others.

Or, at least he didn’t think so.

Instead, his brows arched, not realizing previously that the Firebirds were so intricately connected. “So, everyone here is basically family?”

His own thoughts didn’t have a chance to drift to Lost Creek Hollow or his own lost family—Wraen keenly directed them there, and he felt the usual tension of the questions settle to his shoulders, considering exactly what to reveal.

“I’m from… Nowhere, really. Here and there. A drifter?” He paused, knowing that the answer wouldn’t satisfy her. “I was born in a pack called Lost Creek Hollow. There was a famine, and the pack broke apart. Eventually, I ended up separated from my family. I've wandered ever since.”

"More or less, yes. There were more of unrelated wolves, when Firebirds were founded a year ago, but Redhawks and Blackthorns are like sap, apparently, you can draw them apart, but," Wraen paused trying to come up with a good phrase to finish her smart thought, "they are still sticky. Nevermind." She smiled. 

If Wraen had known Pippin to be an Ostrega (which she according to the previous thread does not), she would have asked him, if he was in any way related to the Moonspear wolves. After all that family name was not very common to be worn coincidentally by random strangers. "So, being a nomad - is it a life-style or a matter of consequences?" she asked instead.

This was an interesting bit of news to the Ostrega, and he considered it—what was it like to have a family like that? Of course, he had spent some time with the Ostrega’s, but felt removed from the majority of any of his acquaintances.. and so he didn’t dwell on it.

She questioned him, and he shrugged, casting his bright eyes to study his leader. “Consequence that became a lifestyle, I guess,” he noted, offering the remnants of a quick grin, despite the amusement not quite reaching his eyes. “Who knows. Maybe I’m a lost cause.”

Then, since they were getting to know one another… “So, how did you come to lead such a tight-knit family?”

"Same as you? Consequence that became a life-style?" Wraen smiled in response. To be honest, Pippin's question was one she had asked herself on numerous occasions herself. She had not joined the Firebirds with any aspirations be a leader one day. Quite the contrary - after failing in the job at Sunspire, she had never even dreamed of having that position given to her again in the future. 

Yet here she was and it had been almost a year now. "There was an unlucky succession of deaths. First Wildfire succumbed to a disease, then Colt died from injuries," Wraen told. "And at that point with a mourning widow and widower, many small children, two grandparents too old for the job, I was the only one left. I hope that I have done the job well and I am very curious to see, who will take up the throne after I no longer lead," she explained.

There was an extensive history here—and while the Ostrega tried to keep the facts straight, he already knew he would forget a good amount of the details the silver Sovereign gave him. Of course, he had no idea who Wildfire was, or Colt. He could have been polite and asked… but it just wasn’t in his nature to pry further than what details were offered to him.

An ear gave an idle flick, far more interested in the last part of her words. “You almost sound like you plan on stepping down.” He didn’t straight out ask it, but his ember-like eyes remained sharp upon her. ‘Why?’

"Well, it will happen at some point. Hopefully on my terms. Different times call for different leaders," Wraen replied with a light-hearted smile. She was not planning on stepping down now or anytime soon. The job was still interesting enough for her, it got boring and too routine for her occasionally, there were even moments, when she wanted to escape, but then something happened to change her views again.

"Have you ever strived for leadership?" she threw the ball back in Pippin's side of the field. "Have you ever been in a leadership position? Because despite the privileges, it is no joy-ride either."

Her response wasn't quite what he was expecting, and only then did it dawn on the agouti male just how different the Firebirds pack was from any he had seen. Given his wanderlust tendencies and inability to settle since Marauder's Keep prior to now, he had seen quite a lot. 

He wasn't sure what to make of it, yet. 

Wraen turned the question on him, and the scruffy wolf shrugged his leaner shoulders. "Never around long enough to be, no," he truthfully responded. "I considered starting one from time to time. Guess I just don't know quite what I'm looking for out of life, y'know?" Despite the turn of conversation, Pippin's tone never did deter from his casual demeanour.

"You will be surprised to know that majority of sensible population is quite content on not having any responsibilities. It is way easier to have someone make decisions for you than doing it yourself. So - in a way - by being your own boss, you have unknowingly learned a thing or two about leadership already," Wraen smiled. 

"I think that the hardest part about all this is keeping the group together and defusing any possible conflict situations. Always finding the middle grounds. And it is especially hard making those big decisions that affect everyone. They might not be the most popular ones either," she mused. 

"But I am talking too much. Tell me about, where you have been in your travels - places you have seen, people you have met?" she wanted to know more about Pippin.

Oh, wow, this girl liked to talk.

He canted his head, an ear giving an idle flick as he actually did absorb what she said, and found it a rather interesting perspective on life. He didn’t tend to have meaningful conversations like this one, and quietly, he found himself almost enjoying her company.

But that didn’t mean he was going to offer sage advice or words of encouragement back. I mean, baby steps, Karen.

“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” he offered cheekily.

"You do not play fair, Pippin," Wraen pointed out. "If you listened carefully, just moments ago I poured out my heart to you," she chuckled. Not all people had the patience to stomach all of her musings. She could talk people's ears off, if given an opportunity, even though as she became older, she kept herself in check and tried not to burden people too much. 

"If you did not, then I have a reason to be disappointed in you as my subject," she tossed the ball back to his side of the field. Wraen talked pleasantly with Pippin for some time after that and then left to deal with some immediate business.