For now these wolves were voices without faces. The sooner he met them, got a bearing for the kind of individuals they were, the sooner he could decide upon his path. The urge to retreat was strong within him, even on this chilled evening; as he came trotting in to view of his trees, his head low and features intent on trailing an ambiguous smell. He passed by some tracks — fresh, but not canine in shape — and Njal paused to briefly look over their qualities. The creature that left such steps had four toes, and a large fifth digit; long claw marks creased the surface of the soil, and the muddy trail led off in to the snow. Njal's stomach gurgled but he ignored it, growing disinterested in the straying path of the badger which he dully identified.
Njal slid in to the worn disc of crushed grass which served as his sleeping station. While he was growing tired of this wait, he did not groan or sigh in disdain. The wolves were out there somewhere and they would find him; he had heard the call and joined it readily, and if they wanted him, he would be waiting.
The fresh-faced youth had felt restless this evening, though she could not explain why. Her dull grey eyes picked up on what she could with the light of the setting sun, though she knew it would be gone soon, leaving her with her other senses to compensate. The rusty female had spent much of her time since arriving outside of Swiftcurrent Creek, but she did not feel like leaving it until the sun rose again. And it was possible that her feet would stay within her new home this time around (though unlikely).
She had come to a rather heavy-smelling path. It was worn in the snow, and Fox sniffed it with curiosity. It was not anybody she recognized right off the bat, but it was certainly a creek wolf. There was something about the scent of the unknown pack-mate that drew her toward it, though she could not pinpoint what it was. Her pace quickened, and Fox's ears were pinned forward to listen for the sounds of the stranger. It wasn't too much longer before she'd spotted him. And as his form came into her view, the Nu found herself unable to explain the strange feeling she got. It wasn't the normal "ready-to-insult" feeling that she normally felt, and yet it also wasn't indifference.
Fox considered calling out, but she was not sure what the right words would be. Instead, she simply walked toward him, and when she was close enough, awkwardly stood and waited for him to say something. Or for her own brain to think of something to say.
Such thoughts rolled through his mind, and he ignored his senses. It wasn't until a flash of ruddy red crept in to his view (really, flashing in the corner, since Fox was ambling about) that Njal's head lifted and he sent a pointed gaze towards the oddity. It was as if his thoughts of Proudheart had manifested. The stranger was remarkably similar to his wife in colour, although they were far more reedy than the compact she-wolf he had devoted himself to. Njal felt his spine bristle softly as silence followed the stranger, weaving circles around him that were unsettling; but he caught their scent, and knew that they were a creek wolf, like him. The man relaxed a little, but lifted his front end up in to a seated position regardless, and kept his dull, tired eyes upon the stranger.
He did not know what to say to them, just as they couldn't fathom words in return.
He did not speak, and neither did she. Instead, Fox simply allowed herself to become familiar with his shape. Her silent pack-mate did not have a bright coat like she did, nor was he particularly lithe like herself. Instead, he was built like a fallen log. Sturdy and strong. Unmoving, even. Not only was his shape different, but his size made her feel quite dwarfed. Fox was not intimidated by him. But she still could not quite place the sensation that buzzed strangely in her stomach. It was unlike anything she had felt before, and it was... unsettling. It would have amused her to know that he had thought the same word.
Sensing that he was relaxed enough, the red Nu stepped toward him gingerly, her nose taking in short breaths as she gathered his scent. The smell of somebody was far more interesting than their appearance, no matter who it was. At least he did not smell like that foul stink-wolf. In fact, Fox found that his scent was... light, sweet. She flattened her ears, unable to comprehend herself. When she furrowed her brow, she could feel the dried blood on her scalp shift. That fiery-eyed female had gotten her good.
Just as the man was about to descend once more in to a laying position, he noticed the twitch of her batty ears. The expression that creased her face caught his eye next, and then the dry blood atop her skull. He was up and moving in the next instant, perhaps a bit too quickly, but his nose reached for the tender places upon her face which boasted of her battle with another. Concern lit upon his boxy features as the metallic scent of blood slipped in to his nose; Njal gave her a curious little once-over, as if to silent last her what happened, before taking a quick pirouetting step around her skinny body, to check for further injuries.
They may not have met before, but Njal could recognize a fellow pack mate; and if she was injured, it was his duty to aid.
As quickly as he had stepped toward her, he was away from her again, and she gasped. But it was nothing more than him looking her over, and she watched him with a mix of uneasiness and calmness. Fox could not explain it. The feelings continued to feel foreign and strange, but she did not know what to say or do. None of her injuries were severe enough to require any special medical attention. The bruises and scratches would heal in time, and she had all the time in the world.
Gingerly, she took another step toward the silent stranger (pack-mate or not, he was still a stranger). This time, she tested her boundaries further, allowing her nose to touch his shoulder.
Njal turned so that he could sniff at her fur, while she had her face so close to him. He nosed around her hip, and easily overtook her position with a few strides, so that the two strangers could get to know each other's scents all the better. The man grunted softly as he retreated from this venture. His head lowered along with his front half, and with a playful nudge of her cheek Njal invited her to play a game of tag - swiftly administering another nudge to the girl's own shoulder, where the red fur was forced to mingle with the grizzled striations of his snout.
He pulled away in the next moment, absently slapping at the ground beneath with his great big paws. Playing was something he wasn't so familiar with, but it was a way to get to know another pack mate; so, why not try it once in a while? Granted, the boorish man would probably take things a little too far in the end.
The past two times she had made such a gesture, she'd gotten a few scars and bruises to show for it. This time, however, her intention was not to harm, but to show her affection for her new silent play-thing. Fox had played plenty as a pup, which is where she assumed she gathered all her bad ass fighting skills. So this sort of thing was not completely out of the norm for her... at least as not as much as it was for him.
Regardless, it was entertaining. Njal nudged her, ducked, wove in a manner that was completely graceless, and the adrenaline from the experience was quite exuberant. It was like hunting, but not. They weren't about to kill one another or try and take down some unnamed beast for the sake of the pack; this was for them, which was a concept wholly unrecognizable to this creek wolf in particular. Njal let out an instinctive croon - a rumbling that wasn't territorial or even aggressive in nature, a sound which he had never heard himself make before. He was having fun, go figure.
When he let out his little sing-song voice, Fox's grin only grew wider. She was quick to return his vocals, and danced about with her tail wagging and feet moving this way and that. This lighthearted approach to socialization was something she did actually like... just not something she actually practiced very often.
The girl's tail twitched, but the rest of her remained still, as if she had been frozen in time. Then, the strangest urge struck her. Without second-guessing her instinct, her tiny pink tongue gave a single lick to his nose. Only time would tell how he received her odd gesture.
The flick of her tongue helped in that pursuit.
He didn't quite know what to do when the warmth of her saliva slid across his snout; Njal looked down his nose at her, going cross-eyed briefly, and then pulled away as if to sneeze. He gave a small cough as his eyes squeezed shut, and he adjusted himself so that he could look upon her. The red girl was free from his grip and he looked both sheepish and confused down upon her coiled body. How idiotic of him to get so caught up in their silent game! He did not speak an apology but there was a sweeping sound as his tail dropped, and he murmured to her with his teeth finally hidden away.
The lick was nothing to him; Njal was not the kind of individual who would see anything suspect about a small behaviour such as this. He was dense, and perhaps a bit too dumb to realize any actual connotations. With his ears flicking back against his thick skull, Njal reached towards the girl with a wiggling nose, hoping to inspect her, to make sure she was still all right after his overzealous reaction.
He came toward her again, and for a moment she wondered if he was going to engage in play again. Instead, he nudged her gently here and there, as if searching for something. She sidestepped, but not far enough that he couldn't reach her. The tiny red girl then returned the favor, sticking her nose into his shoulder, then his hip, making sure that everything was okay.
Njal was about to return the favor, to turn this back in to a game, but then the sound of a howl in the distance caught his attention. It wasn't an urgent sound, but he was alert. The man's head raised in a prompt manner, eager to lift and join in the howl just because it was instinct, but he did not; instead, Njal watched the land in the direction the sound came from, and then began to stride away from Fox - his limbs taking short strides, slow strides, and he gave the red girl a side glance as if to say, duty calls. His tail batted once before he turned upon the empty land, then picked up speed to abruptly leave his new playmate behind.
[exit!]
we should have another soon. ^_^
He did not shy away from her poking and prodding, which pleased her greatly. The word "unexplained" continued to roll around in her thoughts, almost haunting her. She brushed it aside (yet again), and readied herself for another bout of play. However, before they could continue, they were (oh-so-rudely) interrupted by a distant call. Fox paused, ears pushed forward to listen, but she had no interest in answering the call.
It seemed her silent play-mate did, however. When he turned to leave, she contemplated for a moment before choosing not to follow him. Instead, she merely woofed a good-bye and watched him disappear around a bend. For the rest of the day, Fox had a little more pep in her step than usual. They would certainly need to meet again.