Stavanger Bay savegame

Old Stavanger Bay folks, maybe? Grave referenced here: http://wolf-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12014

There was a grave here. 

Boughs of ash and grisly fragments of bone spread across the earthen mound where, surely, a wolf lay sleeping. 

Remiel approached cautiously. His nose flared wide and ears straining to listen as he inhaled the scent of many wolves; none too recent, but enough to invoke a feeling of unease. He was not entirely welcome here, and though the territory lacked any of the markers that would indicate the presence of a pack, this grave was a strong reminder that there was once a community here. Though there was little left but flesh-slouched bones, the wolf had meant something to someone. He curled his lips and bared his teeth at the ridiculous display. Why not return the beast to the world? Why hide an empty shell beneath trinkets and decorations? The soul was long gone.

Despite it all, the boy could not turn away from it. 

It was just so wrong.

I couldn't resist so I hope Tev is okay... (I mean technically he falls into that category, lol)

Tev had taken to his weekly routine of making the trek to Stavanger Bay to tend to Ragnar's grave. He wasn't sure who else tended to the fallen Northman's grave ...and wasn't quite sure if his mother was up for the question and the not-so-gentle reminder any mention of his father's grave might bring with it. Thistle wasn't a fragile woman by any means, that much Tevinter could see quite clearly, but she'd confessed to him about her depression and he wasn't sure if she was ready to talk about Ragnar's grave yet. He suspected it might be her but he couldn't tell for sure. He brought nothing with him: he hadn't known his father well enough to actually mourn him per say. He simply wasn't there one day and perhaps Tev had done his mourning as an infant, unable to truly grasp what the lack of presence had meant. Yet, his father was with him. In his blood, and though he was not aware of it: his appearance (most of it anyway) and his changing personality.

These thoughts were broken as the he shrugged through the ash trees into the small clearing, and noted a gray-scale mass that quickly took the form of another canine. An unfamiliar canine, and not a young male whose scent Tev recognized. He was standing too close to the burial ground, appearing to stare down at it. Sure, Ragnar was nothing more than decayed flesh and bone but it was an automatic reaction to assume that he was going to do something to it. Stavanger Bay might have been free territory now (as strangely disgruntled as he was about that) but this...this place felt like it should have been off limits to those whom did not know the Viking.

“Why are you here?” Tev demanded, his hackles bristling along his spine, gaze of caribbean blue and silver sharp. 

Of course! Thanks for joining!

Remiel froze, breath hitched in his throat while his pointed ears twitched atop his skull at the sound of ash boughs bending and shivering from the movements of an unseen creature. 

He twisted on his toes to face the stranger head on. The two-toned male was quite a bit larger than he was, with muscle twined tightly around a thick musculature, and triple-parallel scars striking a jagged line across the bridge of his nose. The young wolf tucked his tail between his heels, but otherwise stood his ground. He wouldn't be chased off like some simpering, chastised child. He'd encountered no pack boundaries; this place was free to roam.

To the question, he growled a response between taunt lips, "What's it to you?" He retorted, voice wavering slightly. He had no way of knowing that the grave belonged to the strangers father or that this bay had once, indeed, been his home. It was vacant now, and left for the wanderers.

Tev was aware enough of the fact that the claim upon Stavanger Bay had ceased to be when Charon had made the decision to leave behind these sacred grounds. To leave behind Ragnar — to let their father's grave available for scavengers and pests who would have no qualms about defiling it for his bones or whatever decayed meat still remained. It sounded like something only the truly desperate would do yet winter was upon them and those whom did not have a place to call home would, perhaps, be pressured into becoming that desperate. Tev didn't know for sure, of course, for while he was sometimes disgruntled about it he belonged to a pack (and really it wasn't the pack he had issues with). The light colored stranger turned to face him head on, and for a wild moment Tev thought he would be met with equal hostility. In preparation the young Viking's upper lip curled back over his teeth, a ghost of a step taken forward. Yet, the other yielded to some degree, his tail tucking. He stood his ground but there was an acknowledgment of some sort; and Tev realized that while there was power in knowledge there was even more power in dominance. This was something he'd known as a young child, using it rather rudely upon his litter-mates as he had, but his domineering persona had been sunk after the initial bear incident.

Tev's lip lifted again in indignation when the stranger growled out a retort. “You make no demands here,” Tev responded coolly, eyes never leaving the other youth. Of course Tevinter thought he was the only one allowed to make demands. He had connections here. A purpose to be here beyond wandering. This Bay should have belonged to him as he was the son of it's late Jarl. One of the Jarl's true sons, born of the legend's own flesh and blood. “This is Stavanger Bay, it used to be my home,” He fell silent for a few seconds before he continued with, “And you are too close to my father's and this Bay's Jarl's grave for my liking.” Tev gestured to the mound with a sweep of his scarring muzzle.

A shiver raced down his spine. 

If this wolf attacked, given the right provocation, it would put Remiel's future in jeopardy. Already he was struggling to find adequate food to sustain him, but with an injury, prognosis would be grim. Still, he didn't back down. He had every right to be here, same as the stranger, and he wouldn't just turn tail and run at every threat. 

His ears twisted back as the other one spoke plainly, though he didn't understand the strange term he used. Ya-rl? He sniffed and glanced, briefly, at the grave, but ultimately unwilling to take his eyes off the other wolf for more than a split second. He didn't take kindly to how he was being spoken to, evidenced in the slight ripple of fur down his spine, but he didn't have much of a choice in the matter either. He was alone here. 

"I've not done anything wrong." He grumbled. "What's your problem anyway? Do you get off bothering strangers?"

i'm sorry tev is such a butt xD 01.10.2016. Edit slapped an ending on this so it can be archived.

In the respect of how Tev felt and acted in many situations he was more like his father then he would every truly realize — and in this moment it was more of Ragnar shining through than it was Eitri. Ragnar was, surprisingly, more diplomatic of the two for Eitri would have chased this stranger off without fear or thought of consequence (or even a right of claim). Though diplomatic was a word that Tev would have loosely applied to this situation for he wasn't being overly diplomatic. Yet, he felt he had every right to be upset. This male was creeping around his father's grave, and while Tev hadn't known Ragnar that well there was still a love for the memory of his father — and since Tev didn't have any memories of Ragnar the grave was all he had. The other yearling emphasized that he hadn't done anything wrong, clearly not liking how Tev was speaking to him. 

“You don't belong here, not near this grave.” He couldn't stop him from coming into Stavanger Bay and there was no way that Tev could stop wolves from coming near Ragnar's grave (lest he decide to live at this spot and he didn't particularly wish to do that) but he was going to make some sort of effort. “He roams this ground, haunts it.” This wasn't true, but it wasn't exactly a lie, either. Tev wasn't the only one who kept up with this grave. The mysterious stranger whom had kept up with it before Tev had discovered it did as well. “Only the ones that are too close to my father's grave,” Tev returned, brusque. “It's nothing personal. Just stay away from the grave. I'm not the only one that comes to check on it.” And seeing as Tev couldn't place the stranger who also kept up with it he wasn't about to speak for the enigma. 

When it appeared he wouldn't, the other male left and Tevinter watched him leave with an hardened expression upon his muzzle, looking down along his nose at him as he vanished into the distance. It was only after ascertaining that he was truly gone did Tev return to tending to Ragnar's grave.