Noctisardor Bypass with the moon i run

Pointedly, spring had come, and thus the silvern Sandraudiga had chosen to disperse. Not to mate—no, there was much to prove he was worthy before siring a litter—but to seek out an old teacher. Ketzia had given him direction on where to go, and with farewell to his mother and siblings, the youthful man stood upon the step of the borders claimed by his late-father’s best-friend.

Icy eyes swept past the land, not one to simply dwell upon the prettiness of scenery, and he felt a certain pleasure at the landscape @Mahler had chosen to remain. It was certainly not the mountains—a disappointing thought to the wolf—but it held its appeal.

It had been a lengthy time since Stigmata’s first born had seen the old Kapitan, and so, he waited upon the doorstep, his features impassive though his proud stance lowered more with the expectation of a humble visitor.

the commander's steps are slowed by the rapid progression of her pregnancy — she isn't sure, being a first time mother and all, but she suspects her cubs will be born into the world soon; and in all honesty she looked forward to it. she does not like the awkward waddle in which she's adopted. her days on the borders were limited; but praimfaya being praimfaya was stubborn and would not retire to her birthing den until she felt the first contraction.

it is this stubbornness that propels her towards the scent carried upon the wind; close and unfamiliar. when she comes upon him, her tail arches over her back in display of dominance; weary of the lack of call. this is rivenwood, she barks drawing to a stop; frostbound gaze sizing him up. what business do you have on our borders? her commanding coolness is natural but no doubt fueled by the fierce maternal protectiveness she felt towards the life growing within her.

Streamlined quicksilver was what greeted him. His own pewter gaze sweeping over the feminine curves of a she-wolf who held imposing dominance and and air of iron. He could appreciate getting to the point, and in turn, the nomad dipped his form lower in recognition to her potential rank and the mere fact that he rested upon the cusp of her home.

Argent Sandraudiga. I was told Mahler had settled here. He gave pause, eyes trailing with mild interest to what could have been the hint of curves that graced a pregnant woman. I was hoping to see if he had need of another able body in his pack.

his sirename brings with it some recognition; if barely. a hazy familiarity that praimfaya should but cannot, in the moment, place. he knows mahler, though, and that is enough to ease some of the tension holding her shoulders taunt. he has, praimfaya responds. i am praimfaya, she introduces, not remembering that they are not total strangers. i co-lead rivenwood alongside mahler. she offers, thinking it best to tell argent that she, too, is capable of accepting — or denying. we could certainly use another able body, with cubs on the way. Seqouia, she thinks, is due any day now and Praimfaya suspects that she, herself, wasn't too far behind.

what are your skills?

Her name might have been mentioned in passing in his more youthful days yet too young for the silver rogue to recall with any true recognition. His muzzle would dip lower in quiet acknowledgement to her word and rank, satisfied to know that Mahler still remained within these rather well guarded borders. 

Caregiving and puppies are a bit beyond my scope, he admitted with a small hum, though the idea of busy pack lands with the chaos of young pups was not unappealing to him... as long as he wasn’t expected to be solely responsible for any of them. 

Sparring, however, I can do. I hope to hone the more tactical side of battle. I can also offer myself as an able hunter for the pack and as a scout should that serve any purpose. Ketzia never had reproduced again after the fall of Stigmata—and Argent had simply assumed she had been uninterested. Idly, his thoughts drifted to His siblings, wondering if they were eager to start families of their own.

to his honesty, praimfaya couldn't fault. in a way, she understood. it was beyond her as well, which was unfortunate given that she was very soon to be a mother. she trusted that mahler would be there to help her as needed ( though she wonders if that is selfish to assume ). regardless, there was either failure or success and she would soon find out whether she had what it took to be a mother or not. that's alright, praimfaya counters. i did not mean help with them so much as help with border patrols and cache filling. her presence on the borders would be delayed by the arrival of her children and she suspects it will be some time before she'll be on them again.

we could use another hunter and a scout's skills are always welcome. praimfaya murmurs; mind already made. welcome to rivenwood, argent. i'll call for @Mahler. with that said, she tips her head back and howls to her fellow graf.

with two she-wolves inside the pack due, mahler was more contemplative, more rife with protection, than he had been. he thought of wylla daily as he went about his duties, keeping closer to sequoia as the first was furthest along. yet when praimfaya's howl rose, he left off what he had been doing at once to attend her, wondering if the time had come for the young graf. 
it would be too early, and he quieted his tension with a breath of relief to see that his fellow leader remained rotund and dogged in her tasks. 
when he turned toward the stranger, it was stigmata that looked back at him, a vision so powerful that for a long moment mahler was only silent and dazzled.
something else there, in the pointed look of the newcomer. ketzia "argent," he said softly, hopefully. the little goddess had long left them, but here the boy she and his kill-brother had created, standing upon the borders of rivenwood. assuming that praimfaya had vetted the joiner, mahler smiled instead. "you have come back. home." not diaspora. not the sunspire. something more rounded, a covenant between wolves rather than a military expansion. would he be content?

His muzzle canted in quiet acknowledgement to her words—Mahler resided here and his countenance had seen it fitting he join. All would be well. 

Icy eyes traced the youthful she-wolf as she called for the man who had, in most ways, been a father to him. Mahler had held that helm tightly for them all eve before Stigmata’a death—Argent’s memories of his childhood holding the gargoyle as prominent, while at times he had trouble even remembering his namesake. 

When the man arrived, Argent allowed a smile to quirk at the corner of his muzzle.Yes, he rumbled, taking a tentative step forward. Ketzia had spoken of the weathered appearance of the aging man and while she had not spoke so boldly of her concern, it had been painted on her face. The thought had sickened him—and so here he was, choosing now to spend time with the man who had been so much to them all.

A swipe of his gaze was upon the she-wolf again—shifting between the two. What can I do first? He didn’t like to be idle.

it does not take mahler long to arrive and the commander greets him with a low chuff. she opens her mouth to inquire if the two knew each other but closes it the moment later as she casts her frostbound gaze to mahler and the look on his face. in that, praimfaya had her answer.

yes.

praimfaya considers leaving the two men to catch up; indeed she feels like she's intruding on something she ought not to. or maybe it was the tiredness she now feels in being idle; an ache in her spine that comes from carrying young.

immediately, praimfaya is warmed to argent as his first question is to ask what he could do first. she appreciates the initiative and it shows on the hardened and scarred lines of her face. she thinks — hopes — she and argent might get along. it is hard for me to make the lengthy patrols i used to, praimfaya admits. help on the borders would be appreciated. from her standpoint, at least. it was always possible that mahler might direct him better.

she lingers for a few more moments and offers mahler a soft bump on the shoulder with her muzzle. i'll leave you two. she says and takes her leave, not wanting to admit that a nap was calling her name.

exit praimfaya <3

argent was quick to move toward help for the bypass, and mahler approved of this swift taking-charge. "a patrol, then," he murmured, exchanging the same with praimfaya and watching her depart for a moment. "she vill be delivered of her children soon. another mother, sequoia, is just there herself."
this time, speaking of the babes he had not fathered did not plague mahler. he only felt a gentle pride that rivenwood had secured its foothold upon the bypass with the event of children.
"vhere did you go, argent?" the gargoyle asked after a moment, moving away in a westerly direction and drawing the new pinne with him.

The silver she-wolf took her departure, Argent's gaze following her for only a moment before his attention directed to Mahler, who confirmed the younger wolf's suspicions of her rounding belly. It was shared then that another litter would be graced within the pack and with unspoken question, the ironsoul studied his stand-in father, feeling it inappropriate to ask if either litter were his this year.

He would find out in due time, he assumed, and so so drew after the tread of the dark gargoyle, quiet for a moment as an ear flickered in consideration to the question. "North East of here... we claimed a small grove. Quiet. Free of chaos." Each had their fair share of leading the rather peaceful pack, but it had given Argent little peace in terms of his own aspirations and desires.

"What of everyone from Diaspora?"

"quiet." mahler took a moment to glance at the detailing of the bypass, its canny slopes and single entrance, the protective stone walls and the rolling grasslands ending in deep forest. "it is vhy i chose this place also."
he did not think of the broken boulderplace; he had been angry there, filled with a rage that had only burnt him to ash in the end.
"gone." somberness flooding the lilac stare. one by one they had departed. "after diaspora, ve moved first to a hollow vithin the sunspire, and then a mountain. by the time that ve left the sunspire, it vas no longer diaspora, but sagtannet. only i remain."
what would argent think of him now, an ageing man unable to hold the threads of his kill-brother's fierce creation.

Gone. 
The word was harsh on its context, but softened only by Mahler’s disappointment. Argent’s studious gaze allowed reprieve for the man as it darted away, his tail giving an idle flick in thought.

He found he did not feel disappointed. Stigmata remained a story for him—his mother having told all of her children of their fast and furious love, of the man’a ambition which had likely been the reason for his demise. 

It’s the way of life, he murmured quietly, looking back once more to the stalwart man. Constant change, he continued, as if that offered any insight to what he had meant. He hadn’t met anyone yet in his life that had remained in one place and pack. Was there such a creature?

constant change. no truer words could ring so in this moment, and suddenly mahler felt very tired. "it vould be good if you stayed on as a night vatchman," he suggested. "vith children coming, rivenvood cannot be unguarded." of course argent knew this, but he meant to make a true role for any man who joined now.
"come. let me show you the place." quick tip of his lips meant to reassure.
mahler stepped away and inclined his head for the son of stigmata to follow.