Hoshor Plains love into a weapon

their claim was cemented, and with their official declaration over the plains came the official responsibilities she would seek to attend. in the upcoming days she would set out to pursue alliances, to form relations and trade routes with neighbors, to send word to dutch, to continue her effort in recruitment, to return often enough through her travels to reinforce the borders and yet still juggle time to spend with her husband.

her muscles tensed just at the thought of the strain they would soon experience, but she wished to secure at least a few neighborly relations before her season began. the clock was ticking, and she was not sure when it would strike midnight.

she set through the golden grassland in search of @Arktos now, to seek him out and inform him of her intentions over the course of the next few weeks. she would be gone most days, and he would be left with the daily happenings of the plains. she trusted him in this, though would not set out without first gauging his thoughts.

there was a fondness to her steps though too. it had been some times since they last spent long enough together to have a proper conversation, and she wished to celebrate with her husband on their success in the foundation of their home. it was a chapter worth celebrating.

the warbear was best not left to the delicacies of treaties and alliances — he didn't have the silvered spoon'd mouth for it. he was the blue collared husband that would rather toil his days turning the red clay dirt and tending to the herd then making nice with neighbors.

his steps slow at nephele's approach, head lifting from the borders he was tending. dirt smudged his cheek and he lets out a soft noise of appreciation: but boy, was she a sight for sore eyes. their time had been taken away from each other, tending to their respective duties, instinctively divided between the leading pair.

well, hey there pretty lady, coos the wrangler, a stupid, sloppy grin on his lips.

she turns at the sight of him, her steps an even pace as she draws near to hear the familiar sound of his voice. "pretty lady?" she half teases, a paw raising to brush away the smudge on his cheek. her eyes speak of a fondness for his compliment, though her words give voice to a playful ring, "you flatter me, mr. tall, dark and handsome"

a smile sneaks it's way to her lips as she raises to her tiptoes to place a kiss where dirt had once clung to.

"how goes the patrol?" she asks while lowering back to her normal height. "chase away any hooligans of late?" it seemed during their foundation that there had been several nose-deaf interlopers that had tried to wander through. she wonder if with their official claim to the land if the pesky locals had finally took the hint.

arktos lets out a low laugh, offering a sheepish shrug of his broad shoulders. i can't help if the truth flatters you. he teases, placing a soft kiss upon her brow after she wipes away the smudge of dirt on his cheek. it's effortless, this domesticity. even if arktos isn't entirely sure it comes wholly naturally to him. then again, he isn't sure about anything in regards to himself and thus oft forces himself to live as solely in the present as he could without thinking too hard about what kind of man he was.

other than he knew he wasn't a good man.

not necessarily a bad man; but certainly not a man that could put his hand to a bible and swear that he was a decent man.

it's quiet, moss green gaze sweeps across the plains; quick. assessing. a direct contradiction to what they'd dealt with before their voices had joined in unison. i'd be lyin' if i said i trusted it. he admits in a solemn rumble. it was always calmest at the eye of the storm, quiet right before it.

she enjoys their brief moments of physical touch, for they were rare amongst the business of responsibilities. a purr to his words that resonated to a calm hum. she remains quite as he shared the stillness of issues and his lack of faith in it remaining that way.

"i do not mind the quiet," she had grown through chaos, and had found that the moments of silence were to be appreciated greatly. "but it is a bit unsettling," she admits with a glance towards where the lake rest. she did not believe that woman would not cause further issues unless she was removed completely. uproot the weeds, or chop off the head of the snake.

she gives an appreciative glance to her husband as a thought that had lingered in the back of her mind for a while now finally came to words, "you seem to take to this naturally." his entire being connected to the plains in a way she knew she likely never would. they could move to a new territory and she would not find herself upset in the same way she thought arktos might be.

"all of it," she clarifies. "leadership, the plains, the herd." each role and each interest was done so as if practiced, as if it had been a life before. she did not knock on the locked door of his mind that held lost memories, but it would be a lie to say she did not occasionally glance towards it in wonder.

i'd trust it more if our founding hadn't been so rife with trespassers. not much had changed ... except now he had a valid reason to withhold any and all mercy to the next soul that made the poor decision to trespass. can't help but feel like this is the calm before the storm. deceptive, meant for them to let their defenses down. to think the worst was over and they were safe before it came barreling down upon them like a fury of wind and rain.

a quiet noise of inquiry leaves arktos as she brings up that this appears to come naturally to him.

maybe yellowstone was a mimicry of the life he lived before ground zero, but as they both know: he couldn't remember. didn't even know the name his mama gave him. badlands. arktos ... they were names he gave himself, the first directly during ground zero and the last because he needed something that did not bring with it unwanted flashbacks of ground zero.

either way, he'd disagree.

his edges are jagged things that would cut, knuckles bloodied and bruised, tongue full of words that were brash and crude.

i think you may be biased. he grins at her, drawing in a soft breath.

she turns to cast a stormy gaze towards the lake, a thundercloud rolling through the fog of her mind. she listens, a soft hum given in thought as he speaks. "let us hope the peace will last, but prepare for it to not." there would be no grief for peaceful times, but she was not so naive or foolish to think trouble could not bubble up at any moment.

she keeps her eyes to the southern stretch of their land, expecting to see the marching silhouettes of an army forming on the horizon. but there is just the warmth of daylight drifting across the plains as she turns from her steely gaze to offer a roll of her shoulder and an accepting note to his words. "perhaps i am."

her thoughts drift then to more diplomatic concerns. "i plan to travel in the coming weeks and establish alliances and trade with the groups close enough to do so." she looked to her husband then, leaving room for him to add his own thoughts on the matter.

while arktos isn't particularly unsettled per se by the woman who wished to control the creek, it didn't mean that he wouldn't be keeping a keen eye on her side of the borders. he suspected yellowstone had her outnumbered — and even if they didn't the odds didn't perturb him. perhaps that was one of his fatal flaws, his achilles heel. perhaps he'd gotten his ass beat to hell and back and that had led up to ground zero.

hopin' for peace is like hopin' for rain in the dust season, useless and disappointing. we keep the peace ourself, until peace is no longer a viable course of action. he wouldn't outright seek war — the idea fills him with a sudden fatigue, a weight of a kevlar vest on his shoulders. but he would also defend this land and the wolves that called it home until his dying breath. gladly, regardless of how warweary he might feel at the thought of it.

a'right, arktos murmurs to her words, relieved that it would be her and not him making the diplomatic tour. he was the no filter, dirt on his boots, no filter on his mouth. diplomacy and him did not oft go hand in hand. that was not to say he could not see the usefulness is opening up a trade route and having friends in other packs. i can salt and pack some meat, wrap it in some furs for you to take.

there are times when she wonders and marvels at the workings of the mind. her husband does not remember who he was, where he'd come from, what he did, if he had any family previous to his reawakening and yet...the way he thought was defined and cut sharp as a knife.

the way in which he spoke, she could see past the fog that clouded his mind. she knew it well, grew around it, accepted it, believed it, was taught it. arktos had grown through war just as she had, and she could see it clear as day while he squinted through the morning mist of his lost memories.

"you are right," she agreed to his way of thinking, clawing back the hope she had thought she could afford to have. he sobered her optimistic way of thinking since having established their claim, and she was thankful for it.

"i would appreciate that, as i'm sure our future alliances will as well." gifts were typically well accepted at political meets. "i plan to travel north first," she motioned to where the stream ran northbound. "i smelt a pack on the wind coming from that direction, so that is where i will begin." she was not sure which direction she would continue in after that.

he didn't entirely love the idea of her going by herself, but that was just his protective nature that flirted a little too often with the line of possessiveness. but he doesn't protest. it wasn't as if he could leave yellowstone to escort her: he was needed here. to keep everything in check.

just be careful. it wasn't a lack of trust in her that causes that soft plea to bubble up from his chest. it was his lack of trust in others, specifically in men like him that sparked it.

we can fade here <3

his plea was met with a softening of eyes that would melt to warmth only for him. if she were born a more sentimental creature she might have reassured him there was nothing to fear. instead she ushered up a soft, "i will be," with a whisk to the downy fur of his chest.

she turned from him then, a gust of wind tangling fur and sweeping forth the claim of their home. "walk with me?" she asked with a nod to the inner expanse of their territory. soon she would be off as an emissary and he left to keep the house in order, but for now they had a moment together and she wished to steal it away should he accept.