Blackfeather Woods Silence

Canine had swiftly become accustomed to the dark and winding woods of blackfeather, rolling around in scentmarks to both gain the smell of the pack and deposit his own without marking over those who ruled. He'd met none save for Damien and Cicero, but now that he knew his home he would learn the others here as well. 
It would be hard, he assumed, without speaking the language the ones at the border had uttered. Perhaps others, too, would know his as well? It was in their genetics to understand body language, of course, but could they communicate with the dual colored man as well as he could his own feral kind?

@Potema perhaps?

A perk of Blackfeather Woods' uniqueness was that only those who felt drawn to the forest decided to give the pack a shot. Not all got the chance to join it's ranks, but those who did felt like they were at home in just a matter of days. The darkness was easy to get used to, and the silence was compelling.

Damien sought out his new recruit to figure out whether communication would be an issue. This far, the hound had made no vocal sounds that were close to a word, and although Damien had experience with mutes, his plans for this one simply wouldn't work without figuring out a way to communicate accurately.

Canine sought a packmate to bond with, but it was his Dark Master's scent that reached out and pulled the charcoal mans paws inwards. It wasn't long before Damien's ebony pelt was only just distinguished from the shadows, and Canine loosed a friendly chuff of greeting. Lowering his crimson tail and ears in submission, Canine slunk over to the larger male and licked at the corners of his mouth. This was a man who was worth following, worth bowing to. Damien would get whatever he wanted from the young male, if the Spiderling was willing to  put the effort into it.

Right at the moment he needed him, Damien found the mute hound wandering the heart of the forest. A speechless call was ushered, and Damien's ears twisted to seek the source immediately. Canine greeted Damien with a respectful bow, which Damien met with a nod and a lazy wag of his tail.

"You need a name..." Damien realized the moment he thought of trying speech with the speechless one. That could be the first step to teaching words to the mute, at least for him to understand and Damien to give commands. "You are to be my hound," stated the dark prince thoughtfully, but... Ugh, Hound was too basic, too obvious. A minion of Darkness needed a dame that ushered chills down one's spine, something with power...

"Scamp!" resolved the prince with an air of power. Yes! That was the name he should answer to, like the hounds of Mehrunes Dagon. It was perfect.

Damien seemed happy with Canine's entrance, and the charcoal male rolled back onto his hips in a sit. The first string of speech was lost to him, but the last word, Scamp, stood out. It was emphisised, projected. This was an important word, and was therefore stored in the back of his mind. What it meant was lost on him, but eventually he would come to recognize it as his new name. 
Tipping his head and looking up to the Dark Master, Canine gave a beaming smile that split his face with ivory teeth.

It seemed for once that the words spoken had a meaning to Scamp, but understanding them was a whole different story. At least he reacted positively, which Damien took joyfully with a sly smile of his own.

"Scamp," he repeated, making sure the memory of it stayed for good, and made a note to repeat it every time he could so that his new hound got used to being called that, and perhaps, understanding one day that that was his name.

"Come," he barked, and walked in the direction of the pack's borders. He figures simple commands were the best way to get the hound started, and so he would begin with the basics. He did not take Scamp out of Blackfeather Woods, but toured him around the forest for a while, barking "Come," every time the hound slacked off behind or lost his focus on Damien.

Damien repeated a word, and highlighted it with an eerily pleased smile that did indeed stick in the red-faced male. Scamp. It had no meaning to Canine other than his Dark Master's order, but by the way the ebony alpha gazed down at him, it looked as if he was deciding upon calling him that. How Scamp knew, one may never know, perhaps it was in the way he'd said it or the way he looked at Canine, or even something as deep as a soulful connection. 
No more time to mull things over, for Damien had begun walking away. Head tipped and poised to Scamper after the alpha, all it takes is the one word. He didn't know what it meant, but it was obvious in Damien's body language that he wanted him to follow. When he found himself unsure, he would slow, and sometimes he stopped to sniff at something or pee on another thing. Each time, Damien repeated the same word: Come. C-oooome. Following behind, the shadowed man made quiet, nearly silent noises in the back of his throat. The beginning attempts at copying Damien's words, though a fail, were sure to blossom into something eventually. Broken, scrambled, perhaps, but then again it would still be words.

Scamp followed, responding to the spoken commands rapidly. Aided by body language, Damien was sure he could make good advances at teaching the feral hound how to carry out his orders. For now he would go slow, and it would take a lot of patience from him to get adjusted to the primal forms of communication.

Walking north, Damien led Scamp towards the redgrove. Once there, at the verges of the crimson field something Damien had been dying to see for weeks caught his eye. A doe, fully grown and undeniably real was grazing in in the clearing. They were back.

Damien crouched down to avoid startling the doe, and from there he tried to find signs to confirm the possibility of a herd. He called for hound with a muffled bark, and once he reached his side he commanded him to hide with a soft, but clear "Down," and pointed at the doe with his nose for Scamp to see. Probably he would understand that they were hiding, and would keep the noises down.

They went to a place that looked as if it'd been painted in blood-Scamp LOVED it. Laying down momentarily to roll around in the fringes of it, exchanging scents, Damien slips ahead of him. Puppy happiness takes over for a moment, but his Master's bark soon has him scrambling up and trotting to his side. Luckily, he's paying attention: seeing the dark alpha crouched low to the earth, he coppies, and the word is left unaccociated. Maybe his head was still trying to mimic the first two he'd recieved, too busy to recognize the third, or just the fact that he was prone to copy the things his Master did. It was what he wanted, surely, and at least this time he found himself correct. 
Crawling up next to him, Scamp's aqua eyes follow where Damien pointed, and immediatley his crimson tail began to wag ever so slightly. Food! It'd been a long while since the male had seen live, large prey, and the only thing holding him back from giving chase now was the fact that it was his alpha he lay beside. Digging his nails into the earth and pinning his ears down, Canine lay coiled and awaiting the word to loose him. Every few seconds, his eyes darted to Damien, but it was the only movement he made whatsoever.

Damien saw the hound's claws dig on earth as he seemed to prepare for the chase, but that was not the intention. Damien could not kill off the first deer he'd seen in over a month, and wanted to see if it had brought a herd back home. That would be satisfying to see, and would mean that the end of their hunger was near.

Shaking his head surely wouldn't be enough for Scamp to understand what Damien wanted, so Damien let out a strong "Track" with the hope that the hound would learn yet another command, and then proceeded to sniff around searching for a trail.

Damien barked a command at him, but all Scamp heard was the tone that clearly said no. There was something else he needed to do, something he wouldn't have understood had the alpha not started. Track? Track. Track! Using his energy to follow the black male, only just containing his excitement, Scamp was quick to be on Damiens heels. He was sniffing around, looking for something. Was he looking for more deer? Cause that's what Scamp wanted, food! Nose to the earth, the red tailed canine was careful to stay behind at least his Dark Master's shoulder, but sorely wished they could run, go, hunt, do things! The doe was just standing there, waiting to be torn into and devoured. Why was Damien making them sniff out something else? Scamp threw a few questioning aqua glances up at his alpha, but didn't push it.

Stark white eyes met Scamp's aqua's own a few times, each reinforcing the previous command. Just tracking. However, although they both kept the noise down and moved slowly the doe jolted and sprinted away, seemingly becoming aware of the wolves' presence.

Damien wasted no time and sprinted after it, keeping a safe distance to ensure the doe lead them to the rest of her herd if there was any. Damien barked at Scamp a few times, remembering him that they were not to kill the animal yet, only follow.

Scamp whined just under his breath each time his master's eyes darted to him, and every time his steps faultered just a bit. The doe bolting caught his attention, and the new Blackfeather started after it seconds before Damien. He came shoulder to shoulder before realizing his mistake and falling back again, but pushed at the colorless alphas heels. He made sure to stay back, even without the Spiderling Master's reinforced wordless orders.

Scamp was a good hound, obedient like no other Blackfeather ever was, and Damien had already taken a liking to him. He needed good followers like this, and although he knew not all his followers could get to such degree of manageability he hoped he could at least get the loyal ones to stay around.

The doe sprang her way across the red scrub, and Damien bolted after it. Scamp seemed he often lost focus on Damien, but he always came back to run at his heels when Damien called. The doe took them across the redgrove and back into the darkness of Blackfeather, where soon enough she met with a couple more does that joined her in the escape. Damien realized they were driving them away from the core of Blackfeather Woods, which was the opposite to what he needed. He couldn't afford losing the herds once again, so he slowed down until he stopped, and with a huff he called Scamp to leave the deer alone.

Scamp could feel his masters growing fondess of him, and even if he was literally being trained like some house dog the fire faced male was happy to have a purpose. This alpha, he was good, he was strong: nothing compared to the fool he'd been born to serve. He was doing good for Damien now, and he raced alongside the dark mans flank until he called it quits. It was hard for him to restrain himself, to not pounce upon her back and rip till she was dead and filling his belly. There were even more now, but still he drew to a halt, panting. Without missing a beat, his aqua eyes sought Damien for his next move.

This is my last post, RM! We need a new one :D
@Scamp

That had been it. Scamp halted at Damien's call and found his way back to him. The doe needed their space, and soon enough Damien and his pack would be feeding on good meat again. That was all he wanted. That was all they needed.

"let's go," called Damien again and started walking the opposite way that the deer had escaped to. He took Scamp elsewhere, and once again he went over the basic commands. If he was ever to speak this would be his bases, but if he didn't they would still serve Damien for what he needed them. Perhaps this hound had been the best investment he could make, it had gained him an obedient servant, one that did not ask questions. What else could he ask for?