Hushed Willows My laughter will be the last thing you hear

@Warbone I thought this would be the best place for my trickster to go to since there are so many packs so close to each other :) Shit is going down here, he seeks chaos.

His time in Teekon had been pleasant so far. His first encounter was with a white ghost who had chased him away, making him run for his life. It was absolutely delightful. This place was alive, and he loved every minute being here. The woman who had introduced herself as Gypsy had also been nice. So naive, so breakable. He chuckled to himself again, a warm sound like a summer breeze rustling forest leaves.

His nose, which worked excellently due to his time seeking herbs and poisons, picked up something interesting. Pack smells, but not just one. There had to be a few, maybe two or three. A smirk crawled on the trickster's face. Oh yessss... He whispered to himself, sniffing in all the scents. Perhaps he would linger around here a while longer. He followed his nose to a border of one of many, the one he found most appealing. Big weeping willows, swaying gently from side to side in the soft spring breeze that still carried hints of the mild winter. It was a sight he had never seen before, a feeling that he found exquisite. The sounds, the grass under his paws, it was all so different than the feelings up in the mountains. He had traveled through them with a bored face, not really getting wolves who lived there because they liked it. The height terrified him, though that hadn't stopped him. Nothing would.

The trickster knew how to join a pack, thank goodness. He knew how to play a goody-two-shoes, a business man with a lot to offer. A great scout and a healer. Who could ask for more? He raised his muzzle into the air, touching the sky with his nose, and let out his most confident, warm howl for the alpha. After that, he lowered his tail -that was actually always in a high position- and made sure his obsidian coat was spotless. A charming, confident smile on his face, he waited.

Eeeeee! I laaaaav Trick. Though, I can imagine the relationship of these two devolving into a vendetta of some sort one day xD

The first official guest of The Keep put Warbone in a strange mood; for while he was interested, and felt a little hubris towards the fact that someone sought audience with him, he had grown insatiably protective of this grove and could not ignore the mistrust he felt towards company. The saving grace of this was most likely the fact that he wasn't coming upon a lurking stranger, but someone with enough etiquette and reason to present himself. He moved directly for the source, a casual speed to his gait that took him through stretches of the willows he had already become quite familiar with.

A shadow began to materialize, and Warbone adjusted his direction so that he moved directly towards the small wolf with the inkwell fur. He appeared well-groomed for a loner, but this was all Warbone noticed as he looked instead for the appropriate submission to his presence— his body language commanding nothing less. It was an overly long moment before he decided to speak, and even then, he only said: "yes?"

Well, that's the fun part! XD He's basically just here to cause as much trouble as possible :P

It didn't take long for someone to approach him, the stranger smoothly moving through the willows. Damn, he was big! Quite the challenge to cause trouble here with such a brute as leader. Wait, he was the leader right? Yeah, he had to be, otherwise the real alpha had a problem with this man in the pack.

Trick cocked his head to the left, a soft smirk on his black muzzle, as the silence surrounded them. For a moment, the only thing that could be heard was the rustling of the willows. But, at last, the brute spoke. Trick chuckled, lowering his body in a formal bow. This was the only way he knew to show submission. He was born to be king, and so he would act. A bow was already pretty good for him, but he could understand if the stranger wanted more of him. He let his tail fall even lower, a slight wag to it. Ha, if his brother would see him now, he would think he hadn't changed a thing. Still putting up an act, he would say.

Greetings! He exclaimed, a voice as sweet as honey and as warm as a summer breeze. Trick, my king, is my name. He introduced himself. He looked up slightly, avoiding eye contact at all cost, his emerald eyes scanning the display before him. Traveler, healer, hunter and lover, my king. He lied about the lover part, as he really wasn't capable of such a thing. Or, well, he had yet to discover such feelings.

The male flourished in a bow before him, and Warbone's desire for control was duly sated for that moment. He watched now, listening and observing the stranger's actions, reading what was given to him in studious silence. Stark, bottle-green eyes peered up at him from a sharp, dark face, and because Warbone was exceedingly confident in himself, he did not look for any danger in the meager stranger, finding his size inconsequential. But that did not mean useless, and he was pleased by the list of trades he was given without needing to be prompted. Talented and efficient. If the alpha were much of a smiler, he might have done so, but as things were, he remained unaffected and without expression.

"I have no interest in lovers," he mused, thinking of Teagan's mention of the same word that held no particular value to the Solothurn; "but your other talents could be of some use... Do you intend to pledge them to me? You may prove invaluable yet, but if you have come merely to boast, then be on your way." The tricky raven had not, after all, revealed his reason for being here, only introduced himself and his quirks. Warbone reserved his own introduction for now.

Oooh, Tricky raven sounds nice!

The dark creature lowered it's head again to watch the floor, hiding his devious smirk. He had to keep in another chuckle, he had to. This was important after all. So, this pack didn't like the sweet feelin' of luuuve? Good! 'Cause he wasn't going to give it. He was afraid his excitement would ruin his perfect act, so he took a deep breath before speaking again.

A lover I won't be then, just a nice persona, sweet to all! He told, his voice getting sweeter by the minute. But he wasn't overdoing it. He was a true actor. Overdoing it would ruin it all. His small frame might look like no real threat, but what he could do without a massive build was amazing. Of course, of course, all of me would be pledged to you! I've come here to join you, after all. He told in a believable tone. Only the best readers -maybe not even them- could tell that he was lying. Boasting is not in my nature, my king.

You can fade in your next post, or we can continue if you'd like :) At any rate, welcome to MK!

He talked too slyly— a fiendishly pompous lilt that was his naturally intelligent tone— and implored him as king. He thought to question the immediate solicitation for sanctuary, but Warbone did not mistrust wolves unless they explicitly gave him reason to. He merely saw a capable wolf, and unreservedly took the male for what he was: a shadow from Eden, with the reptilian green eyes to prove his identity as the whispering snake. Lucifer, "Trick," he murmured; "be welcomed into my Keep, but be cautious. I am only as kind as I am treated." And it was the only warning he would serve the sable serpent.

Motioning with his muzzle, he bade the black minx to his side, leading him on a traipse around their borders. "I will show you my boundaries— you are Marauder now, so I expect you to defend this line with you life— And then I shall take you to The Crook, where I will introduce you to your new family." It was the same spiel he would share with any joiner. "We all sleep in the same den," he added, not leaving any room to question whether there was an alternative to that.

I've got some more time if you want to keep going :)

Finally, he could look as his name was spoken. Well, his nickname. He flashed a smile at the brute, lifting up his front part. Even with his agile body, his back got sore sometime from bowing too long. Besides, the next words that were spoken indicated that he was accepted. He snorted at the word cautious. I am always on my toes, my good sir. He returned, this time actually not lying for a change. I promise, I'll treat you as if you were my mother! He exclaimed. He had a strange respect for women, so this was actually a good thing, but he noticed it sounded kind of odd. And I'm very nice to my mother. He tried to fix the weird comment, but gave up.

A sign to follow the stranger -who he still didn't know the name of- was given, and he followed suit. He was only half the size of his leader, and yet he still looked dangerous beside him, if he did say so himself. His ear twitched when he heard the word Marauder. Hah- that was like a pirate thingy huh? Oh-oh, now he had jokes planned. aye 'captain! he shouted, chuckling beside the brute. alstarboard, got no problems with that, 'captain! He exclaimed once again, almost dying of laughter. Something told him this wasn't going to be such a bad time.

Jokes aside now, my king, but I don't remember catching your name. He informed after he was done laughing.

Warbone was rather indifferent to being obscurely called a Mother. He respected mothers greatly, after all, and gender association to him meant very little. The way he saw it, physically, you were either a planter or a grower— but those sorts of things did not dictate action or emotion. If he had compare this male to a she-wolf like Sangilak, there was not question which of two was more effeminate, so he tended to take gender roles at face value (aside from his habitually formed stereotypes he had been ingrained with as a child.) "Very nice," he repeats, as he does sometimes when he is particularly interested in a particular word or phrase that someone has said, and then he leaves it alone.

Trick babbles behind him, and Warbone thought that maybe he had misunderstood something he had said in his instructions of how the rest of their day would go. Where had that accent come from? What did it mean? Was this wolf alright in the head? The virile wolf rolled his eyes to himself, deciding to take it one step at a time with this curious bird. Thinking too far ahead or too deeply into what he said would probably start to make him angry.

"Warbone," he introduced flawlessly, feeling nothing about having to be reminded to introduce himself. He would've found out his name sooner or later, one way or another. "Trick, with your moniker and use of varying voice, you might find pleasure in being a spy for The Keep." His eyes scanned the horizon, and out beyond his territory. 

A little short, but I hope you don't mind :D

His words were repeated, but he paid it little mind. He was way too busy making plans. Teehee, this was jus too good! him? In a pack? Who would've ever guessed it? Oh, if only his father could see him now. Would he be proud? Mad? Did he even care anymore?! HAHA! Everything was going his way now.

If Trick could've read minds, he would've been chuckling right now. He couldn't read the brute's face from from here, but he knew he was somehow confused. It wasn't the raven's fault really, he just found the word Marauder a trigger for his pirate accent. Perhaps he was insane, but he didn't care. He didn't care what others thought about him, which was really a blessing. He wasn't shy. He was Trick, and everyone would know in the near future!

Warbone, what a specific name for a fighter. Well, he assumed the Massive Copper was a fighter, given his appearance and all. Now Trick was wondering if this was his name given on birth. If so, he was mighty lucky! The name ,Wylie, that he had been given had been kind of a bore. He wished he had been born with such a victorious name. That would be a mighty great idea, good sir! He exclaimed excited. A smirk crawled onto his muzzle. A spy he would be, for both The Keep and the pack's surrounding it. This was the best way to start some trouble, make them suffer while not suspecting him.

Fade here?

"Very good," he murmured; "I hope you pursue the trade." It would, after all, not be an easy feat to accomplish and it wasn't a title Warbone was just handing out. But in the end he could only hope Trick would reveal the promise he showed, unaware of the raven's true interests here. A pity he wasn't the loyal type, and even more piteous was the fact he had chosen a very vengeful wolf as his first target. But in that aspect, his temper made him an easy subject to goad— Sweet drama for the starved.