Noctisardor Bypass into dust first

the early morning does little to abate the chill that has settled over the bypass in the night. the emerald grasses, dulling with the changing of the seasons, are dusted with a layer of frost that catches the moonlight. vex stirs awake; much more alert even in slumber now that he lived in the elements. like a real wolf. he should be thrilled that kaertok is eager to see him and his sisters as young adults but instead all he feels is a roiling conflict. it breathes life inside him like the stirring of some strange titanous beast. perhaps, he thinks to himself with a fierce tartok scowl, that it is for the best.

it’s this and the desire to prove that he is not a worthless, suckling babe — despite how there is still the weakness in him that misses arbiter’s warmth — he prowls to the borders where he begins a patrol …though he does not fancy himself capable of being able to fight off any who would cause harm. there are a lot of strange smells — one that does not smell all wolf and causes the pompous vex’s lip to curl in disgust despite that he doesn’t recognize the muddied half-breed scent — at a particular spot on the borders and it is here he begins in earnest; sniffing them out.

Like his father before him, Kaertok tended to spend much of his time along the borders, making sure that he and his family were safe. When he spotted Pingasut there, an expression of approval washed over his face. Pingasut, he greeted, noting that his son had caught the scent of the wolves Arbiter had greeted a week or so ago. He did not know the details of the meeting, but she had mentioned them in passing.

What does your nose tell you? Kaertok asked, always pushing his offspring to use their wits and muscle every waking moment. Without that, they had nothing. Just having one of those would never be enough. They needed both to survive this harsh, cruel world.

pingasut

ears cup back in kaertok’s direction in a physical gesture meant to assure his father that his presence did not go unnoticed though he didn’t take his gaze off of the no-man’s land that exists between legion and the neutral territory, even as his nose continues to furiously snuffle at the scents; picking them apart for everything they were worth.

two strangers. he recites dutifully at kaertok’s questioning. from a pack. though the collective scent goes unknown and, for now, is tucked away for later dissection. spent some time here, their scent would’ve all but faded by now otherwise. one smells wrong… vex struggles for what to call the most prevalent scent. a stench that he wants to burn from legion’s borders; a sully upon their earth. halfbreed. he spits, sharp gaze cutting up from the earth to his father.

the need for superiority in all things — genetics included — is something that the developing vex does not understand; it is a thing ingrained into his personality without realizing where it comes from, whether it is passed to him or something developed on his own. in the end, it doesn't matter. it is there and he knows it.

He spoke, and Kaertok listened. Pingasut's description of the smells brought a slight smile to the father's face. He did well. Kaertok lowered his own muzzle to the earth, breathing in the information, as it were, when his son mentioned one of them smelled wrong. He had not known that about them, and he was proud of Pingasut for sniffing that out on his own. You are right, Kaertok replied. Your mother says they were not pleasant. We cannot trust either of the strangers who were here. The halfbreed, as you call him, half of him is not of the wild. Mixed with dog, no doubt about it.

Kaertok had known a few half dog, half wolves in his time. None of them had made a lasting impression on him. He was vaguely aware of one that had been around for Legion's founding, but considering he was no longer here, he must not have been a very good fit. Kaertok was also fairly certain that he'd been Arbiter's second choice, and the Tartok had not wanted that. It was a good thing, too. Arbiter had made the correct choice.

Do you know how to rid the earth of their smell? Kaertok asked, fully expecting an answer. This was no rhetorical question. He was testing him, as he always did.

a quick glimpse is spared to kaertok, vex desiring the praise of his parent, notes the small smile and looks back down to the invisible border quickly; chest puffing with unfettered pride as kaertok tells him he’s right. his ears perk and his gaze lifts, attentive, as kaertok goes on to say that his mother said the strangers weren’t pleasant. untrustworthy. his upper lip curls back revealing small teeth that would one day be more of a threat than what he, as a growing but gangly cub, could currently put off.

not of the wild. vex repeats as if it is a curse; a blight. he shouldn’t be here. and he didn’t mean legion specifically, though that certainly stood given the little bit of information his father’d given him. it was vague but it was more than good enough for vex whom had begun to paint his own biased opinions on imagination alone.

before he can ask anything else about them — questions he doesn’t realize might be better suited for arbiter — kaertok distracts him with the question of how to rid the earth of their smell. pee on it? he guesses. that was one of the several ways they marked borders, after all and it only makes sense to vex to connect those particular dots.

Kaertok didn't have such a strong opinion of dogs, but he certainly did not value them any more than wolves. His son, on the other hand, seemed to have decided they were the worst things on earth. Kaertok didn't mind that. It was good for him to have a place to direct his anger. Better still if it was toward a creature who had disrespected Legion.

When Pingasut answered the question, Kaertok nodded. The more we do so, the more outsiders know that we are not to be trifled with, he explained. Making a regular habit out of it early was a good thing to teach his children. Lifting his hind leg, Kaertok sprayed the earth with his scent, inviting Pingasut to do so immediately after him.

the affirmation that the halfbreed and his partner were not friends to legion only solidifies vex’s previously unwarranted dislike of anything that wasn’t wholly wild like him. like his dad, and mom and sisters. vex tries not to show over-eagerness as he gets a nod of approval, keeping some sloppy sort of running tally in his head; stifling the surge of pride and joy that he’s doing good — especially after the debacle where he’d complained about being kicked out of the den.

he nods a bit like a bobble head, though the word ‘trifled’ goes over his head. he assumes, roughly, that it means ‘don’t mess with us’ and lunges over the borders to the place where their scent, though faint and waning, was the thickest, lifts his leg and pees all over the bracken and dead leaves.

take that!

what do we do if they come back? vex asks then, suddenly, the idea having just occurred to him in the lapse of his brief and childish victory over the long-gone strangers.

The literal translation for his name: "is haughty" LOL

Pingasut was quick to wipe out any remaining scents of the strangers, and Kaertok's lip twitched. Perhaps he was not a lost cause after all. He was a bit behind from Malrok, but he would get there. Kaertok saw promise in him now, and he mulled over a more proper name for his son.

You will do nothing, but you may observe. When you are older, you will join me and the others in chasing them away. And if they fight back, we will kill them. Kaertok had seen battle with Tartok. Where his mother had settled was more tumultuous than the Teekon Wilds, and Kaertok had been trained to fight.

I will call you Piguktuk now. It means you are proud. Kaertok left out the part where the name was a bit of an insult, implying that his son was arrogant. He was too proud for his own good, and someday he might realize this. If and when he did, Kaertok had a feeling he would earn a second name, just as he had been given two by his mother.

it's perfect, lmao!

a soft scowl twists his features as kaertok tells him he'll do nothing but observe. it's a logical response, sure; but vex has this misconception that because his father treats him like an adult therefore he is. for a second, vex — now piguktuk — considers insisting that he can help but bites his tongue to keep the words from slipping betwixt his lips.

it is the assumption based on experience that it will not go over well for him that quiets the desire to be argumentative.

so he nods his head in firm understanding.

on the topic of his new name, he considers it for a few moments. piguktuk. eventually, vex repeats it, sounding it out on his tongue. while vex tried to not feel any particular way about it — he couldn't help but the slight proud lift of his muzzle at his father's bestowed name ...only serving to prove that the name is, startlingly, accurate.

Wrap up here?

Piguktuk recited the name, and Kaertok nodded approvingly. There seemed hope for him yet. Come, we will trace Legion's borders until you are tired. Now that this spot was cleaned up, Kaertok thought it best that Piguktuk's lesson continued. There was plenty more to learn about the borders, and Kaertok would take this time to teach him as much as he could. It would not be the end-all be-all, but it would be something.