Redtail Rise kingdom of steel

Cambria went north this evening, the setting sun warm on his left flank as he drifted across the plains like a ghost. His paws crunched in grass grown brittle and yellow in the July heat. His nose twitched at all the scents wafting along the sun-baked earth, though he didn’t hunt. He was rested and fed. He was on a mission of another sort.

Redtail Rise rose before him, its western flank splashed with fading gold. Minding his posture and his proximity, Cambria’s eyes trailed along the foot of the mount. Often wolves patrolled their territory, so he searched for the guardians of this one. He would not be in the least surprised if the silent white wolves—particularly the large male (@Mountain Boulder)—or @Mulherin might be among them.

the berserker had only just returned to the rise.

but there; he is greeted with the sight of a pale figure. 

not one that was familiar.

well, slightly familiar.

he makes his way toward the man in confident strides.

you, again.

The sight of a familiar face eased some of the tension in Cambria’s muscles, though he did not allow himself to relax. He regarded Mulherin’s confident stride and checked his own posture, making certain he came across as neutrally as possible. His tail gave a single wave, a nod toward the brief acquaintance they shared.

His pale head cocked slightly at the other yearling’s opener, though Cambria said only, Did you find them?

the frown lining his mouth only deepens, reminded of the loss. in the least, he’d come to find that one boy was saved. he holds onto this information tightly. 

no. he replies, ever terse.

but what brought the man back to the rise?

you have news?

His ears pulled backward at the terse reply, more so because of the answer itself than its delivery. Cambria shook his head at the subsequent question, his expression impassive but a flicker of sympathy coming through in his mismatched eyes.

No, the Dragonling said. I looked, though I saw no one matching their descriptions.

He paused, glancing first one way, then the other, along the foot of the rise. He was curious about these wolves, even though the white pair’s silence had mystified him. Perhaps it was morbid curiosity, as they seemed plagued by sickness and misfortune.

I mentioned a pair of white wolves when we met, Cambria said, pausing to give Mulherin a moment to recollect. Neither of them spoke, so I didn’t catch their names, but the she-wolf was ill. I was wondering whether she’s feeling better now.

he receives the information with a frown.

yes, she’s better now. he answers, almost forgetting moon runner’s illness. the berserkr also befell a similar fate. a detail he was more than happy to leave out.

mulherin’s head is clearer now, and he realizes he can’t seem to recall many details about the wanderer himself.

where are you from, again?

Oh good, Cambria caught himself thinking, though he couldn’t have explained his investment to himself, much less somebody else.

He needn’t bother, as Mulherin didn’t press him about it. Instead, he asked after the yearling’s origins. He understood the question might not be as literal as it sounded—he was probably trying to figure out why Cambria was lurking in the area—but he chose to address it directly anyway.

An island, he said, pausing for a beat before deciding to share, called Dragontooth. It was just my mother and me, then just me. He didn’t want to linger on that particular detail. I found my way to the mainland and I’ve been wandering ever since, building the skills to survive on my own.

And he was pretty good at it, having had no choice but to be self-sufficient from a very early age. Cambria shifted his weight, drawing in a breath as his eyes pensively swept the rise.

Were you born here? he guessed, focus returning to his peer’s face. I would like to know more about it, if you’re willing to share.

dinah had told him of the islands; the isle, mainly. dragontooth was not among them.

you’re far from home. he replies idly.

and the man asks about the rise. he lets up the information with ease.

yeah, I was. we’ve been here for a few years. there’s occasional newcomers, mostly just family.

after all, they needed fengtoth.

the guy you met earlier is ulfhedinn—our hunt leader. his daughter is treow, caretaker.

and i’m mulherin, berserkr, by the way. fight leader.

He made no reply about his home, much keener on learning more about Mulherin’s. Although they were mostly family, they occasionally welcomed newcomers. Cambria understood that he offered titles, rather than monikers, though it was still good to put names to faces.

Dragontooth isn’t my home. I don’t have one, Cambria shared in turn, then admitted, although I contemplate the merits of settling down somewhere more and more every day. I’ve survived so long on my own, it might be nice to try something different…

He wasn’t certain yet, though the rise had captured his attention. Cambria sensed he could be of use to them, though was it a good mutual fit? It still struck him as strange, how Ulfhedinn and Treow didn’t use words. And what about their penchant for misfortune?

I’m Cambria Dragonling, he offered his own introduction. I’ve never been part of a pack before. If I do swear my fealty to one, it’s not a decision I’ll make lightly. He paused, jaw shifting. If I was interested in joining your ranks, what would that entail?

he learns the man is a thorough vagabond.

this assures him in a way. he was young, and had learned enough to be self-sufficient. but would he adjust to putting the needs of the rise before himself?

many come and go, he starts. longevity is rewarded.

care for the rise, and the rise will care for you. 

characteristically vague, but by virtue of numbers there was an innate sense of safety as well.

the whisper of a smile lines his lips.

return with something for our caches. we’ll talk then, cambria.

“Care for the rise and the rise will care for you.”

This was exactly what he’d hoped to hear. Cambria nodded his understanding, one ear bending at the shrill cry of a bird somewhere behind him. His gaze didn’t waver from Mulherin Berserkr, noting the faint smile playing about his lips. Perhaps his were doing the same.

They pulled back into a grim line when he said, I hope I’ll be able to bring some news next time, along with something for your caches. Until we meet again, Berserkr.

He dipped his pale snout to the swarthy yearling, then swiveled and began loping back south, his shadow swallowed as the sun finally set. At some point, his eyes cut to the east and he began heading toward the deep forests sprawling away into the uncharted wilderness there.

the yearling understood and accepted his challenge.

silent, he offers a dip of his head in return

and watches the pale-white silhouette weave through the woodlands.

silence, again.

he walks home listening to the soft sound of his own footsteps.