Duskfire Glacier everything after, nothing

duskfire glacier random event: coyote trespassing/at the border turned border patrol. founding thread 10!

a light snow blankets the borderlands of the glacier as wintersbane walks them; following the guidance of the sun's golden ascension in the horizon. for the first hour of patrol, spent with a limp that was slowly mending as time wore on — but still too long for the tundrian's liking; impatient as he was — was quiet. nothing out of the ordinary. for a moment; contented, wintersbane allows his guard to lull.

only to feel it sharpen with the scent of coyote hanging rife in the air.

his hackles bristle as he marches ( limps ) in the direction, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he comes upon the trespasser. where he should have perhaps found some sort of kinship with him because of his coywolf father, wintersbane did not.

get the fuck out of my territory. and with a threatening snap of his jaws that he fully plans to make good on, the tundrian chases the sneaking beast from the glacier's borders; only feeling the protesting ache of his healing leg when he ascertains that the nosey coyote wasn't returning and after the adrenaline begins to wane. would wintersbane have been at full health, the coyote would've been dead; as it was, it caught a lucky break though the tundrian is quick to suspects the beast does not know of it.

despite the protest of his aching limb, wintersbane returns to his patrol; redoubling his efforts with a renewed flame of vigor lit beneath his breast.

assuming since she's been ICly accepted so to speak that it's okay to go ahead and post on the Glacier but lmk if I need to edit or delete.

With the rise of Siqiniq, so too did Sedna's daughter dressed in his golden rays -- emerging from the hole in the snow where she had dug a packed den of the pale powder not unlike the nanuks that ranged the icefields of Nunaat. Not entirely sure what would call her attention to it that day, she decided to follow Wintersbane's trail when she came across it -- thinking perhaps he might like help patrolling the borders and that it would give her a good chance to explore the territory further. It wasn't until after she'd partially crossed the sikursuit and ranged closer to the atka that the sharp, out of place tang of the coyote became palpable to her senses.

Growing concerned, the wolfdog pushed herself to a faster pace, feeling a hint of relief when she came across the tangled scents of the creature fleeing the territory, intermingled with Wintersbane's and the tundrian's returning alone. She sniffed at them for a moment before pressing on, soon coming upon the bunting draped in cupun and the void Imaq imagined awaited at the bottom of the sea for those who were returned to Sedna's embrace. She chuffed in greeting as she came up alongside him so as not to startle him, touching her splotchy nose to his shoulder in a brief display of capitulation. 

"What was it?" the shaman murmured as she withdrew, the words still untrained but improving.

that's perfectly fine! she'd be ICly accepted by now! ^-^ <3

the chuff of imaq draws his attention to her nearing presence and he gives a small falter in his step to allow her the chance to join him at his side — though with his limp he does not doubt she could outpace him easily. his glacial gaze cuts to her for a brief moment as he feels the touch of her nose to his shoulder; ear swiveling in her direction as she makes her inquiry. nothing i couldn't handle. wintersbane is quick to assure. he supposes this war of fauna versus wolves is to be expected. the glacier has been uninhabited by a solid pack presence for a long time, if it ever cradled a pack within it's boundaries.

like everything in life, it was simply a matter of displaying dominance and ensuring that they knew the consequences would be damning if the growing presence of the glacier wolves was not enough to deter them.

with our ranks growing, these trespasses should stop. in this, wintersbane feels confident.

The gilded tundrian feels an urge to roll her eyes -- in good humor, of course -- and perhaps bump her shoulder to his own in a show of camaraderie. A witty quip brewing about how he does not need to reassure her of his masculinity, as if she could see him as anything such. The shepherd had been taught to regard all males respectfully, but the fevercoated titan at her side was perhaps a prime, perfect example of what her own people considered a proper leader of a tribe. This was why she felt so comfortable around him as to feel a desire to joke with him, he brought to mind the north -- her kin. But they were not so familiar yet and she did not command his tongue well, so she merely smiles in bemusement -- thinking to herself that it must have been some sort of fox like the pale vermin of her icy isle. Maybe in time she might see one and puzzle out what exactly it was for herself, though she hoped they did not return to trespass again.

She hmms softly, golden crown dipping in vague agreement. Then, she turned her cracked gaze towards him -- vaguely shy that the blessing of Sedna in her tropical gaze might spook him. The sharp words crack in her ears, Imaq Tupilak. Seawitch. "How Imaq help?" What role could she fill best here on the AngajukKâk's glacier of twilight and fire, as he had explained it was titled. She had been shaman to her kith, before, healer and spiritualist. But that was in another land, across the sea. His people did not seem to keep the same traditions and she did not know if what had served Salik's Kalaallit would also benefit Wintersbane's. 

phone post @ work. will fix typos later!

wintersbane considers her question, turning it over in his mind. his initial answer — perhaps from too many years of being a warrior ( and by extension a guardian ) wintersbane’s automatic go-to is tell her to aid in patrolling the borders. patrolling borders wasn’t often too busy ...but an establishing pack? there was always the chance that claim might be contested or, like in this case, scavengers were stubbornly clinging to their territory.

he considers it for a moment. the more wolves we have patrolling, the less likely this will happen. he explains, unsure if she was familiar with the mechanics of it — though offers a sheepish smile in the hopes that she doesn’t mistake his explanation as anything other than he meant it. you could patrol — and if situations escalate you can always call for me. he suggests.

The medicine woman's limp ears lifted with consideration as the tundrian assigned her to the task of patrolling their borderlands -- much as they did now. She felt a momentary flare of surprise to think that he would delegate such a task to a woman, particularly herself. Perhaps others -- lupine or canid -- would not find the halfbreed overly intimidating and would not respect her claim to this land if she attempted to stop them from entering. Or perhaps other wolves would believe her to be outright lying about belonging to the Glacier's coalition (thinking her to be nothing more than a lowly dog) and attack her for daring to say anything to them. 

Despite the anxieties that the buttercream cur's lack of esteem inspired, she kept them to herself. Wintersbane seemed to believe she was capable of this job -- full-blooded or no, woman or man. More than she feared any snapping jaws or cruel words, Imaq despised the thought of letting him down especially when he had already given her so much. This, she could and would give in spite of her nerves. To help build was to repay him for offering shelter and status but she knew she would forever owe the blue bunting for the precious words he had given her. 

"Wintersbane?" she asked, his name less foreign in her tones of velvet -- not unlike the soft skin of a caribou's nose. "What will this place be?" Perhaps she should have questioned before, when they first met. But he had never stated a purpose for the people he hoped to bring together, never mentioned any sort of culture in their brief interactions or what might happen after formation that she could recall. Imaq couldn't help but wonder -- when she had fulfilled her purpose of helping him, what would come next. She planned to stay with the Glacier wolves but what would staying entail exactly when their borders had been laid and their claim made official?

a soft hm? is offered at the sound of his name upon her lips; an inquiry yet spoken. his gaze does not shift from the neutral territory outside the glacier; thus only offering her a fraction of his attention as he gives pause to mark a thinning area of scents. it is only as her question dances upon the air between them, processing in his mind, that he looks to her; considering. unlike the times previous that wintersbane has attempted to build his own kingdoms he has no rigid structure in mind; no religion. no expectations beyond survival. flourishing.

a refuge, the tundrian finally rasps after a moment. a home for any that seek one; a place where i hope to finally raise a family. because, of course, his own selfish reasons had to thread their way into the fabric of duskfire glacier's being. duskfire will be a legacy for any who call it home; one of our own creation. ideas were grand, he'd come to learn, but rarely did they come to fruition and thus he turns to simplicity.

Imaq listened silently, finding herself nodding absently -- with subconscious approval -- after his words had concluded. She felt a small rush of relief, in truth. Seelie had suspected that customs were different here but it was mitigating to hear that she would not be traded like furs or meat, that the chieftain of nightsky didn't plan to arrange marriages for her or Iana as a leader might in her homeland. Simple was good -- promising. Imaq had never known what it was like to just exist, be herself. Perhaps she could with the wolves of the Glacier.

The news that Wintersbane planned to sire pups was not entirely surprising, though the shaman did feel her brows lift a tic. "Iana?" She dared to ask, albeit hesitantly, since she had seen no other women around their pack as of yet. Perhaps he meant to find a woman beyond their borders instead. 

iana? imaq inquires in what wintersbane perceives to be hesitancy. he feels a rush of awkwardness them; left to fester like an untreated wound in the realization that his vague 'start a family' leaves much to be desired and a lot of questions. what kind of plan was that when he had none to call wife? even if he isn't so sure he's capable of giving himself the title of 'husband' again. how many times must his heart be broken before he was finally incapable of loving at all?

no, no. he says with a shake of his head. i just meant... in general. which makes him likely sound worse than he was; but he is no stranger to siring children with strangers. still, he has yet to be a father beyond the bit of time he'd spent with quellcrist. i do not have anyone in mind, why was he fumbling over his words? i'm a widower. he tells her like it is his first breath of air after breaking the surface of water. had he told her already? he couldn't remember. yet still, he continues.

twice, now. once, when i was a young man and then again, more recently. he seemed to have horrible luck with being married.

The butterscotch merle can feel the tension bloating in the air between them as readily as the chieftain with the pelt of Sedna's depths. Of its own accord, her tropical gaze fell to the wayside as she silently cursed herself for asking such a personal thing. She'd only been curious, uncertain if there was some connection between her packmates that she'd had yet to realize. 

"I am sorry," she offered, perhaps inadequately, in the thick silence forming after the conclusion of his admission. "This is always hard thing." For a moment, Tupilak thinks of Salik and her second father, of how they spoke of Eelisi and her untimely passing. But the huntress can't quite be sure that they should count. 

"I wish you luck then. May your cubs be strong and many," the shaman blessed him with soft, serious tones -- believing and hoping for what she had said.

a terse smile tugs at the corners of wintersbane's lips; morphing into something more assuring as he looks back to imaq. it's ok, wintersbane says. it's been some time now. a year? maybe two. eventually, time had begun to blur. one year felt like three. knowing he turned four earlier this month left him with the feeling that he has already lived several lifetimes. time has eased the pain. but the wound still remains; as it always would. it is the driving force behind his current status against taking another mate; despite that the old saying went 'third time is the charm'.

thank you. wintersbane offers her with a small dip of his head and a silent invitation to keep assisting him with the patrol or split up, if she so desired.

seems like this might be a good place to wrap. feel free to either archive as is or with your post! <3

"I understand," Imaq demurred quietly, ears pinning halfway to her speckled skull as her mind again wandered to her long-lost triplets -- flitting away again before their memory could cut her too deeply. "Things easier but not over," the shaman added, mainly to herself, in a moment of sageness before daring at last to reach out and offer him a comforting brush of her temple against the silvered navy of his feverpelt.

Wintersbane was an astute man, she knew she needn't fear he would take it the wrong way -- assume that she was flirting with him. Though she was not blind; he was a fine catch for any woman of their tribe. They just didn't quite know each other like that. 

The dove fell into companionable silence, nodding in response to his gratitude and shooting a small smile of warmth his way as they continued along on their patrol.