Neverwinter Forest said he was a sailing man
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Forneskja
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#1
Pack Formation 
@Eydis and/or @Luhtar and/or @Y'var'la pls come play

The bounty hunter was diligent as ever, pleased enough to have something with which to occupy himself. Border marking was not his usual work, but it was not unfamiliar to him. It brought to mind the long patrols that his grandmother used to bring him on — which was not ideal, really, but Catamaran bore the indignity with his usual stoicism.

Aside from adding to the legitimacy of their claim, it helped him familiarize himself with who belonged here and who did not. The age range veered toward younger members, he thought, with none seeming much older than the hárkonungr himself. This seemed like a grave oversight to the erstwhile seadog, who had seen many packs rise and fall in his travels. The most long-lived usually had elders among them.

But that was none of his business, really.

Slinking pantherine through the underbrush, he came across the fresh scent of what he hoped was one of his packmates. Without much thought, he turned to follow it, stalking along the trail. His own coat was mantled with the scent of the hárkonungr; he hoped this would be enough to prove that he was — well.

Let's call it friendly.
Moonspear
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#2
I hope this is okay

Mischievious imp left the spear behind. And headed down the mountain. On her last trip she had seen one heck of a big forest. Large and dark and a little bit scary and that just made it all the more fun. However, this time, she was hit with a wall of wolf scent and she froze before she got to the broders of what she supposed was now a pack forming. No moonwolves had been told of this happening.

She studied this big wolf with wide eyes and then the forest behind. She grinned with impish mirth. As she sidled closer. 

Whatcha doin big guy? You building a pack? What's it called? Did you tell the moonwolves. Oh they won't be too happy if ya didn't.
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Forneskja
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#3
Before he could find his quarry, the bounty hunter ran into someone who was decidedly not part of their cohort. She was wreathed instead in the cologne of another pack; one that was not adjacent to their own, as far as he knew. But she was speaking of moon wolves as if she was not one of them, and so he assumed that this boogeyman was an adversary to them both.

And she, very near to the borders, represented some small amount of threat herself. His reluctance to simply drive her off and be done with it was twofold: First, he was sure she had larger wolves caring for her that would not appreciate him bearing her teeth at her. Second, he wanted to hear more about this supposed threat.

Still. He regarded her a moment longer in silence, weighing his work ethic against a strong desire to quit the interloper's company at once. He had a bad track record when it came to polite conversation with young girls.

"I'm just walkin'," he replied, though he wasn't anymore. He took a step closer, just to see if she would quail. Made no effort to erase the mean look in his eyes, though he had no plans to harm her at this point in time. "If some moon wolves got a problem with that, I'm sure they'll let me know."

Coral eyes traced her young face, committing it to memory.

"What're you doing, little girl?" he asked, returning her own question in similar — but undeniably more threatening — dressing to her own.
Moonspear
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#4
This wolf was big and ugly and she would hazard a guess mean. Based on the way he stared at her blankly. Though she really wanted to ask him if he had wool for brains. She realized this would be unkind. And though she was a jokester and liked to be a little bit of a chaos gremlin on a good day. She also had manners and knew how to be all proper and stuff. Her dad had taught her after all. It's just being ornery was so much more fun. 

He tried to get closer and the fur rose along her ruff, and she stood her ground, Narrowing her eyes at him. The one white spot glaring against her black. so he was a bully good to know. And if there was anything Kinusi hated more than silence it was bullies. There was no reason for it. And he obviously had an issue. 

Oh i'm sure they will too.

She frowned at his tone and her eyes narrowed. Well I was having a conversation, I thought. But then someone thought they'd use their big boy voice and try and scare a little girl. Funny, but i'm not scared. Irritated maybe.

She raised a paw and buffed her claw along her other leg. Acting nonplussed. though inside her stomach jumped around like she ate a ton of wiggly worms. 

Since your mama didn't teach you manners. I'll introduce myself. I'm Kinusi of Moonspear. Granted she had not been entirely mannerly upon her arrival either.

SOrry she's such alittle imp. It's okay to scare her or chase her.
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Forneskja
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#5
The bristle along her spine answered his silent question. She had some sense of self-preservation, then — though, had he been in her position, he certainly would have run. Girls, however, were different. Catamaran wondered if this was the source of her boldness.

His ears flicked in acknowledgement, but he bore her needling without much change in expression. He took her criticism in stride, in fact, but the fact remained: "This's my regular voice."

The bounty hunter had not truly wanted her to be frightened. Only to see whether or not she would recognize him as a threat. He felt sure that she did, even if she put on a good show of fearlessness. Social experiment completed, Catamaran lowered his chest to the forest floor, stretching his long forelegs in front of him to rest on his elbows. It was a submissive gesture; almost an apology, though his expression was unmoved. His hind legs remained bunched up, ready to spring him back into action should the need arise. She was smaller than him by a significant margin, but still plenty capable of sticking her teeth in his face if she was feeling bold.

"I beg your pardon," he decided, though his tone was not terribly conciliatory. Nor did he correct the oversight she'd pointed out, touching instead on a different topic she'd brought up. "Has your momma brought you to another pack's borders before?" he asked her, his tone lacking any accusation that might've been implied. It lacked most any tone, but his curiosity was apparent.
Moonspear
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#6
Was she frightened, a little bit. But he was trying to scare her and that just made her irrationally angry. Because how dare he. She hadn't meant anything by her question. And granted yea she could have been a little less annoying when she came up to the borders. But let's chalk that one up to adolescent boldness or something. She wasn't about to admit she was wrong.

Kinusi studied him, wondering if he was lying. Because there had definitely been a little more bass in his tone moments before. But did she really want to die on that hill. not particularly, and not today. So, she accepted it, even if she was absolutely positive he was lying. So A bully and a liar good to know. Great neighbors these were shaping out to be. She was absolutely ecstatic for the chance to meet them all. Not.

Though he took his ruse further by settling down to his belly or more so his chest. She was unsure at at first and definitely didn't trust him. It was evident on her face, but her father had always told her good will breeds good will. So she settled in a less annoying position. But she still eyed him warily. 

She snorted. Haven't seen my mom in awhile so that would be a hard no.

She grinned then her eyes dancing with impish delight. My dad does though. He's a traveling story teller and healer, or well I guess he was. Now he stays at the pack lands, but he still tells stories and heals and sings if the occasion calls for it. Well he sings all the time really.

She pointed at him. And clearly your mother didn't teach you or you'd have returned your name. So, let me just ask you. What is your name? 

She frowned. I mean I could call you grumpy face or cranky butt or meany head if you like. But they are not particularly flattering or kind. So your move sherlock.
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Forneskja
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#7
Women still intrigued him, even when they were not yet at their full power. It was interesting and, admittedly, uncomfortable to find himself in a position of power over her. It was not much, and she could remove herself from it at any time — but it was far more than had been allowed in the place that he'd been born. There was a part of him that wanted to press further; to see how different she was than his seaborn sisters.

The flare of her nostrils drew his gaze, but his eyes skated back to hers when she spoke. A quiet cluck of his tongue expressed commiseration — a girl out to be with other girls. Other women. He knew that this was true.

"So does mine," he told her when she'd finished speaking of her father. His voice was quieter, this time; she hadn't seemed to like his speaking voice, and it cost him nothing to modulate his tone. He was inclined to cater to her whims, even if he had whims of his own that pushed him to test her boundaries.

He did not specify which part of her father was echoed in his own.

The bounty hunter tipped his head back as if to look up at the trees, but when he turned his head to the side, it revealed a strange part in his fur. Ugly scars marred his skin; he'd grown since he'd been given them, and they were strangely distorted on his adult frame.

"My momma gave me these," he told her, holding position a moment longer to give her a good look. Then he tucked his chin once more to regard her, both ears cupped forward in attention. His eyes lingered on the splash of white on her face. He wondered what her father looked like. He wondered if memories of his own held any value, or if they were compromised by time and the strange haze of youth.

Despite his conditioning, a wild hair kept him from revealing his name. He said, "You can call me what you like. Kinusi." and — apparently — he was capable of sounding magnanimous, if he tried.
Moonspear
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#8
Kinusi wasn't quite sure why she was playing this game of banter back and forth. She should have left. But she had just enough of her daddy's wildness and her mother's stubbornness that she was inclined to finish this pretty little dance and song number. And part of her reveled in chaos. Because how could you ever say that your mother left you. And your dad raised you. 

Ears cupped forward. You're dad is a healer? Storyteller? Singer? She studied him. And her fur relaxed a little, as did her paws. She was still wary, but he didn't seem that he was out to attack her or something so that was a plus. But his plus's weren't very high and pulling conversation from him was like pulling teeth. 

She blinked surprised, her nostrils flared in disgust. How dare someone hurt someone. Based on the way they looked and their size stretched on his frame. he had been young, younger than her when that horrible atrocity had been done to him. How undeniably cruel. And irritating, because now she felt bad for being a blister. 

Well then I think it's safe to say, she couldn't have taught you any cause she didn't have any herself. Shameful to mark a child like that.

She sighed and tapped her paw on the ground. My mom gave me blue eyes and this white spot and just a little more stubbornness than should be allowed in a girl my size. Everything else, including my winning personality if i do say so myself is from dad.

She pursed her lips and glared at him. Well i'm certainly gonna call you difficult and tightlipped. Gosh this is like pulling teeth. Fine hmm.

She studied his face and the shape of his eyes. The markings on his fur and the way he held himself. What could she nickname him. Because he for sure wasn't gonna give an inch, but she would damn sure still take a mile. 

Fine. I'll call you mist. Cause that is a pretty close coloring to your fur. But i'll find out your name someday. Even if i have to wheedle you to death.
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Forneskja
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#9
It was disrespectful not to answer her clearly. Catamaran knew this. But the part of him that felt incredulous of her border etiquette told him to return disrespect in kind. Even so, he tried to walk the wavering tightrope of her tolerance.

Finally, an expression crossed his stony features. A slight frown that suggested he disagreed with something she said. Though she had scarred him, he still held a deep respect for his mother. True, she had not been very patient or nurturing, but her vocation had never truly been motherhood. He respected her for what she was: a warrior. A hunter. A priest.

The bounty hunter held on to the urge to defend her until it passed.

"One day you'll be bigger," he said instead. "Then you won't regret learning to be stubborn. You only need to live to see that day."

Another flicker of an expression crossed his face as he was named Mist. This was was less easily defined as a smile or a frown. His eyes were still solemn, still shuttered meanly even against this low light. But there was a quiet regard in them all the same. His desire to see the back of her was gone and forgotten. Now, he wondered how to keep her from leaving.

"They call this pack Forneskja," he told her, his voice still low, but taking on a new quality. Like this was a secret. Did all children like secrets? He had, when he was still small. "I will tell you about them. If you will tell me about the moon wolves."
Moonspear
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#10
She had at least not stepped over the borderline. Merely skirted the line a little. After all. How was she gonna be a story teller and healer that traveled if she didn't well travel. Granted. Her manners left a bit to be desired.

Kinusi caught the frown. But she wasn't about to argue with him. His mom was wrong. She had abused him. Whether he saw it or not. Even her own mother despite that she was not here. Had been nothing but lovely to Kini.

She snorted. Trust me big guy. Pretty sure this is as big as this fireball comes. I mean I'm perfect after all.

His name suited him. Though it drove her crazy not knowing his real name. Altho she kinda liked mist. And wondered now if he had some normal name like Joe or Tom or ick Gabe......so Mist it would stay.

Ears tweaked forward. So the pack had a name. Interesting. But what a weird name. She frowned, working the name through her mind as she did so. It was interesting and also felt forbidden. Like when she stole her dad's snacks or hid the other kids toys and chewie.

Well. She tapped her paw to her muzzle for a minute. 

The Matriarch pack is moonglow. It was the pack to start all the others. It is a focus on healing and hunting, but they have many allies and friends. Largely in part from the leader of Moontide. They hold a hunt for all the wolves of the wilds in fall. Moontide was originally Kukutux's daughter and son in law. But Samani the daughter well she died while having babies. Now Rodyn runs it alone. Moonspear is run by another one of Kukutux's daughters Sialuk. My dad Alaric is her ah 2nd in command, uh beta. Moontide is run by mostly hunters, but they have a healer or two. And the spear we focus on healing and Lady Sialuk is a seer.
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Forneskja
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#11
His ears twitched.

"Mist," he reminded her, as if she had forgotten. He did not like big guy nearly so much.

The way that he watched it, it was clear that something about her was bewildering to the bounty hunter. If she cared to look closely, however, she might find something almost hungry in the way that his eyes tracked her movements. The tap-tap-tap of her paw was a gesture with purposes unknown to him. She was animated; frenetic instead of the hardbitten economy of motion he'd learned at the bay.

His paws itched. He wanted to mirror the behavior, but he kept himself still and listened.

Kinusi was one of the moon wolves. This displeased him, but he turned away from the fleeting emotion. He learned also that they were likely surrounded by the moon wolves, and that it was likely this Moontide that his father resided in. And her own was at Moonspear.

Moonspear. He liked that name, too.

"Forneskja is young," he said, failing to comment on the information she'd provided. Straight to the point. Payment where payment was due. "The leader is called Solharr. He is a man of the north. He has a wife. She commands a sacred space in the forest where no man may walk." In truth, he knew precious little about the pack he had, ostensibly, joined. He felt little desire to know more, except that he would have liked to have more to share with Kinusi. "He values honor, strength, and tradition."

His opinion of the man was yet unformed. He did not believe these qualities were either positive or negative, and he was not fully convinced that he believed all that Solharr had said. But he had, thus far, been easy enough to work with.

"Would you like to meet him?" he asked.
Moonspear
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#12
Impishly her eyes narrowed and her maw morphed into a smirk. So he liked his nickname did he. This big guy maybe wasn't the worst. He was not by any means a conversationalist. Part of her quelled at that. Because she was a talker. Clearly.

If her father had shown her nothing else, he had shown her to be her own wolf. Unique in ways that called to her. The world was too big and your life too short to be anything but genuinely yourself. Part of her was shameless.

Kinusi had never led him astray or lied. She was moon wolf. Belonged to the spear. Though it was getting a little forlorn and a wolf like her. Well. She had mostly meant moonwoman. She liked to know what happened around her.

So this was a new pack. With a leader named Solharr. It matched the pack name she should not be surprised. Though surprise colored her features. Like was the woman not allowed to talk to other wolves? Or just her sleeping place was off limits. She snorted. Men always wanting to covet. She was still young but she knew what she wanted and what she didn't.

She frowned. So he's a stuffy upstart who doesn't like change and his manners will be impeccable?

Shecgrinned again so impishly her eyes glowed with it. Will he tell me your real name if I ask?:
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Forneskja
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#13
The bounty hunter rolled a shoulder; he felt no need to predict the leader's behavior — aside from being fairly sure he wouldn't be leading Kinusi to harm. "He is Solharr," he replied, more interested in trying to predict her behavior. He thought she would want to see for herself what he was like. And, on that note:

"You will have to ask him," he suggested, his voice mild.

Bracingly, so that he would not startle the girl, Catamaran pushed himself to his paws. A long stretch punctuated the conversation, perhaps signaling the end. But instead of turning away, he gave her his side, inviting her to join him. His coral gaze now asked a question: Are you coming?