Broken Boulder from rags to recovery

Maybe @Sequoia if she's still around here?

Arcas slept for a while after his visit with Mahler, then when he rose in the silverlight of dawn he found himself alone again. The man's scent enshrined him. The paste the healer had layered across Arcas' wounded hock had dried and begun to flake. He woke cold, having slept in the shadow cast by one half of the boulder, and his body was stiff as if the muscles lining his body had frozen in the night.

He got up and stretched as best he could, being mindful of his wounded hind limb, and then tried to warm himself up by walking laps out front of the boulder and its hidden passageway; when he felt the stiffness ebb and the rest of his body loosen, Arcas pondered over what to do next.

He was hungry—and he had his half of the bargain to fulfill—so he began to prowl the area, searching for any sign of a meal.

Oh good, this fits into my timeline quite well.

She had passed the sleeping figure the night before, but she had paid him no mind. Perhaps when he woke up she could vet him, but she kept her hopes low. So far, she hadn't met a single dude who didn't make her want to smash her head against the wall. Why he was sleeping outside the rock, rather than in one of the cozy apartments, she could only guess. Maybe he was contagious and Mahler didn't want him getting everyone sick. He certainly didn't like an example of excellent health. Yet another reason for Sequoia to write him off. If this was Mahler's idea of "good men," she was going to have to rethink this whole thing.

It was still dark and cool when she woke. The furs that she had added were a nice touch, and she thought she might seek out some pine boughs today to stuff beneath them. The floor was cold and hard, but at least down here she was sheltered from the elements.

When she exited the boulder's cavern, she blinked in the brightness of the day. And when her eyes adjusted, she caught sight of the man who had been sleeping outside last night.

Hey you! she called out, trotting to catch up to him.

The androgynous-sounding bellow did not make him stop immediately. The sound of steps upon the pine needles behind him earned a shifting of his ears, then the turn of his attention as it was directed towards the oncoming figure. The silver filigree along Arcas' top-line began to stand on-end.

What. His voice sliced the air, while the look on his face was anything but friendly. Arcas was not used to being spoken to by any woman; perhaps this was a leftover from Mahler, some kind of good faith gift. Arcas thought back to their previous conversation and his eyes widened slightly—remembering the implication of Mahler's other offer.

Best to play it safe, then. I've gotta piss. Can whatever-it-is wait 'til I get back? But he was already moving off from where she lingered on his trail, hardly waiting for a rejoinder. Arcas didn't want to deal with this random woman, and wondered as he stalked along where her handler had gone off to—but Mahler was probably off exploring his new claim, leaving Arcas to babysit.

Fantastic.

She was taken aback by his response. Maybe she shouldn't have been. In fact, she was downright pissed as the seconds went by, and she watched him move away.

"Fine, be like that," she thought.

And then she promptly called for @Mahler. What the hell kind of shit was he allowing into this pack? Sequoia might not have any real say, but she certainly had complaints. And she wanted them heard now.

Not only that, but she wanted the shitstain who had offended her to hear it. That's right, she was pulling rank on him, right here and now. Maybe she'd only been here a few days longer, but it was something. This was not what she had signed up for.

The girl, of course, pitched a fit. Her hysterics would no doubt bring the bossman coming and Arcas couldn't really afford that right now, but he also really needed to piss so while she did her thing, he did his.

His stiff-legged saunter took him a few wolf-lengths away in to the bushes. After a careful perusal of his surroundings (in case he'd found his way back in to the bramble patch where his damn leg had gotten snared the night before) he found a decent patch of earth and let 'er rip. The strong scent of fresh golden shower emanated through the woods, doing its part as a segment of the borders.

mahler had been surveying the easternmost border of the small territory. satisfied by the absence of wolves that were not his own, he stropped bark from tree-trunks and rubbed his shoulders high along the boles until tufts of his dark fur were caught and left behind, signalling to any trespassers the dire choice they would make by forging over the boundary lines.
sequoia's angered voice ripped through the taiga weald. a flick of one aud and then he was off, wolf-trot carrying him to where she summoned. 
"i see you have met vone another," the gargoyle observed dryly. the hot scent of arcas hung in the air. he must be quite close, and mahler looked at sequoia, wondering why he had been called for what seemed routine marking.

This guy sucks, she said, her tone flat, bordering on irritated.

I thought you said you were going to recruit worthy men. He's all busted up and he's rude.

Sequoia shot the newest recruit a pointed look, unamused by everything that he did. Was she acting entitled? Absolutely.

Her tail lashed behind her, bringing to the physical space her annoyance at Mahler's choice. He was supposed to bring her good men, not this trash that didn't even know how to have a conversation.

Once he had relieved himself Arcas stepped beyond the warm puddle, scratching at the dirt to etch his scent deeper (as well as dry off his toes because he had partially stepped in the mess he had made); so he took his time in returning to where he had left the woman.

He was thrilled to see the sombre-faced leader there too, and chuffed a greeting at him. Mornin' boss. Arcas did not even look toward the fuming Sequoia, focusing all of his attention upon Mahler — he was the most important being here, after all.

I was just about to get to work on some breakfast. Care to join me?

sequoia's voice grated on him. mahler had only begun to inch backward along the frayed rope of his own shredded nerves, and now here the next-newest subordinate, questioning a decision he had made. as if she meant to be his peer and not in the role she had been placed.
he did not answer the cheery greeting that rung his way from arcas; mahler set his hard lilac gaze upon sequoia and flicked the plume of his tail over his hips with a heavy step forward. was this the sort of behavior that wylla had wished to see from him? why would he not be free of her in each waking thought? coldness chilling through him.
the gargoyle waited. sequoia had known what submission was at his borders, and he would see to it that she was reminded of the lesson once more.

Sequoia out unless Mahler stops her. <3

Perhaps she should have known better. Perhaps all her time with the Frosthawks, and her honorable place there, had made her forget her manners. As Mahler's demeanor changed, she grimaced. Instead of listening to her unrest and addressing it, he pulled rank on her. The other wolf said something or another, but Sequoia did her best to ignore it. Perhaps later, when Mahler was not around, she would find a different course of action.

Her body shrank, in the way it did when realizing this was not a fight worth having. A part of her wanted to run off, or perhaps challenge him, but it was outweighed by the part that knew that wasn't going to solve anything. Damn her stupid logical brain, flaring up right when she wanted to be impulsive.

Instead, she flashed him a knowing glance and slunk back away from the two. They could have their own fun. See how the other wolves treated this dirtbag newcomer. She did not think many would like him, and he would fester like a wound, splitting the pack to pieces.

Let him have his fun. Sequoia would avoid him and warn the others in her position of his terrible personality.

The man's attention wasn't on Arcas. When an answer did not arise to his question he found himself tight-lipped and watchful, following the line of Mahler's glare to the ugly woman that had raised such a fuss on the other side. With Mahler between them and staring her down he would not see the brief flare of amusement that overtook Arcas' otherwise bored features. There one second, gone the next — and look, so was the woman, maybe off to gossip with the others as women were often driven to do.

fading w permission <3

true to what he had believed would happen, sequoia shrank away. her eyes, however fixed to him. another time, he would seek her out. lavender stare watched the retreating spine of the woman; his attentions shifted toward arcas. "that vould be very nice," he said belatedly, stepping to the side of the hunter he had found and mended. hunting together, as mahler had done with sequoia, would be a proper assessment for the approaching foundations of the brackenwood group.