Two Rivers Isle better late than never

Backdated to very soon after he was accepted.

It was all very exciting; he'd only ever been a part of his home pack before, and now he had a new home! It was so good to have friends and family around, though it seemed far quieter here than anywhere he'd ever been before; at least where there had been other wolves to make noise. Compared to his family's territory, this land was a ghost town!

Imagination already happily running overtime, Dag began to imagine he was in the middle of just that.

Humming quietly under his breath, he searched out someone who might fill in the silence.

Vass was having a good time exploring the island on his own, but without @Pyro as his shadow, things were pretty quiet. The chestnut boy padded through the woods with his halfed tail raised high above his back-he'd long since learned the meaning of it, of dominance-, and was always amazingly confident in all he did. 
When a new male's scent drifted on the wind, Vass' lip curled. Ever since seeing his father's reaction to Issun, the Lordling had been very wary of strange wolves.
This time, though, he did not have Mom or Pyro to back him up: the little boy was alone, but that didn't daunt him in the slightest as he strode forward to find this newcomer.

The pup made no sound as he approached, and so Dagfinn was properly surprised by his appearance. Small, solemn, and the color of feces, the child did not quite cut an impressive figure, but Dagfinn recognized his effort and rewarded them in kind.

"Ho! Rakeet, young prince!" he said with one of his elaborate bows, smothering a laugh before it had time to surface. He did not know that he spoke to the alpha's young, but had the knowledge been availible to him, he would not have responded any differently. "You have a solemn look about you - do you come with orders, prince? Or perhaps you are in need of the report."

The Report had been a wonderful game he'd often played with his siblings. They would imagine they were in the middle of a war, and one of them had just been behind enemy lines - the tales they would weave of their enemy's treachery only grew grander and sillier as they grew older.

The stranger seemed surprised at Vassago's appearance, but the boy couldn't imagine why. The surprise mirrored to his own yellow eyes at the strange greeting. Being called a prince sure stroked his massive ego, however, and the Lordling listened with a tip of his head-he had no orders, and had no idea what a report was. Fortunatley, he was now a creature capable of speech, and never had any arguments on using it.
                           
                        "What the heck is a rah-key-eat? And a report?" 

A low chuckle escaped him at the child's question - the butchering of his language had never offeded him, and it seemed even more innocent from the tongue of a child.

"Rakeet, good prince. It is a greeting," he explained, lowering himself to the youth's level in order to continue their conversation on more even ground. "And a report - it is the passing of information. My brothers and sisters and I would play games of war when we were small, so that we would be prepared for battled when we reached full height." Popping up from his crouched position, he paraded the fact that he had, in fact, reached full height. "I can teach you, if you want."

Dag said the word again, laying closer to the pup for better conversation, and the chestnut boy got the word this time. The greeting, rather, as the dark boy explained. 
 
              "Rakeet.... Means hello?"

Reports seemed a little dull at first, until games of war were mentioned. A grin split Vass' maw, little stump waggling around in excitement. HE wanted to be ready to face those dark wolves Burke talked about. 
                     
                                "Yes, please! I wanna be a Mercenary when I grow up!"

Suddenly remembering his manners, Vass was quick to properly introduce himself with all the pride of a Lordling. He threw in his parents names because, well, when did he ever get to say their real names instead of "Mom and Dad"? It didn't help he was simply a proud creature, hellbent on making everyone remember him. 

                                              "I'm Vassago Lanius-Rochester. Burke and Malice's son."

Dag's tail waved enthusiastically behind him when the child voiced his desire to play games of war and then lashed all the harder when he gave his formal introduction. "Ah, so a prince indeed!" he cheered, unsurprised by this revelation, but delighted by it all the same. "Well, we shall have to train you up to be swift and deadly, Vassago."

While different games they might play ran through his head, Dagfinn realized that he'd not yet given his own name. Doubtlessly, the child would be uninterested in his own parentage, but Dag decided to offer the names anyway for propriety's sake.

"I am Dagfinn Ansbjørn, third of that name, fourth born to Aksel and Dorthe. It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Vassago," he declared, offering the boy another sweeping bow. Blue eyes glinted happily as he straightened once more, and Dag lifted his chin in apparently pride, as though boasting of his taller stature and stronger frame. "Now, how about you try to tear my throat?"

Dagfinn had always loved that game when his father or Laerke had offered to play the victim.

Dagfinn seemed happy about his name, for some reason, but it only inflated the Lordling all the more - and as soon as the smoky man said they would have to train him, well, he was freaking thrilled. 

                     "Yes!"

Little did the new recruit know, the pup would actually be using this information one day - not just to gain the upper paw when playing with Pyro, or for simply protecting his family. He would be using this one day against the people who hated his family, whether Burke knew or not. 

"Now, how about you try to tear my throat?" The words were a bit of a surprise, but Vassago was old enough now to realize that, clearly, should he really get the oppurtunity, he was not to take it. Dagfinn was his packmate, his friend - one did not bite friends, as Aunt Aero had taught him. So, baring his fangs and snarling savagly, Vassago rushed for his opponent - but his play fight with Burke flashed before his eyes - and the boy diverted from the forward path, jumping to the side and lunging instead for the side of the neck.

Biting was not so grevious an offense in Dagfinn's homeland. They'd drawn blood deep and often in sparrs, even among just himself and his siblings. Lotte had been his favorite companion to tussle with. She was a challenge unlike any other, since she always seemed to know just exactly what he was planning.

If he could've read the boy's thoughts, he would have told him to strike soft but true. A little blood was easily regained, but poor fighting skills could be the death of you.

But he could not read the boy's thoughts, and so he dodged merrily out of the way of what he thought was a clumsy lunge. Perhaps he could bring back something small and quick for the boy to chase - it would help him to become more coordianted.

"Come catch me!" the youth teased, using his own body as a training tool for the time being. He danced a few steps back and dropped to the ground, rolling swiftly through the grass and then popping up onto his paws once more before checking to see if there was a cub hanging off of him - as well as pausing to allow himself to be pounced upon.

Vassago's hit might've landed should the smoky male not have danced away prematurely, and the chestnut boy stumbled in the spot Dagfinn had JUST been: a growl echoed through his ribcage and out of his throat, but before a second attack could be so much as thought about, Dag was bounding away. 

Even without the enticing words, Vass sprung after his newest opponent - a grin split his jaws, tongue dangling - and woofed an excited agreement. The cinder colored, older boy rolled along the earth in what Vassago couldn't be sure was purposeful or accidental, but upon the pause of movement, he lunged. This time, he was straightforward, aiming his grinning, sharp fangs right at his new friends flank: if he kept moving, however, Dag was likely to shift the aim to that of his tail.

Seeing that he would be nearly caught by the other, Dag kept his pace slow as he 'attepted' to move out of the way of the blow. The smaller wolf caught him in the flank, and those baby teeth hurt, but Dag'd felt far worse. Still, he played it up for the other's sake, knowing he'd enjoyed the same when Laerke had been the one playacting for them.

"You got me!" he cried, crumbling to the ground. "Ouch!" Twisting, he pulled himself out of the other's grasp and dragged himself a few paces away before 'succumbing to his injury' and lying still.

They would do a few more rounds of this before Dagfinn wandered off.

Vass was a little upset he didn't grab the close-by tail, but he did manage to get a brief grip on Dag's smoky flank. The older boy went dramatically to the ground, and though it pleased Vass, he had to remind himself that though this wasn't a real lesson or spar, it would still help him in the long run. It was a game. 

Dagfinn pulled free, and for a moment Vass just stood proud and tall, stump curled over his rump, yellow eyes watching his playmate. When the dark figure fell still, Vassago rushed forward and pounced for the ribs, paws aiming to jab and teeth aiming to bite playfully. He was happy to do this, waiting for Dag to give in from his attacks, watching as he moved away and "died", attacking in a new way each time: a bite to the butt, a bunch of paw-smacks in the face, yanking on his tail -- not all of them worked, but nonetheless it was fun to do.