Whitefish River tired blue boy walks my way

the woman wanders away from the small group, for a time. others are something she must get used to, and there is a comfort when she is on her own. paws take her to a river, which seems teeming with fish, their opalescent bodies twisting and moving and gleaming beneath the current. Aglæca moves toward the bank, softly, carefully, not allowing her shadow to cross the river. luckily, the sun in is her favour. 

fishing is something she deems herself especially good at, and when the moves, a viper-fast strike, her muzzle breaks the surface of the river cleanly, her fangs catching about the wiggling body of a fish. it is strong, in its panic, muscled body straining wildly against her jaws. a deft sideways thrust of her head bashes it upon the bank, and it is still.

@Slade, @Redmoon; perhaps someone she has yet to meet?

The fringes of forest were all Slade needed to observe the woman peacefully. Cry had already informed him of the girl, the brief seconds with the younger assassin giving Slade all he could want when it came to shade. Shade, shadows, silence and an angle in which to understand the newest 'recruit' with more room than a face to face conversation. The very conversation he had to havve, the impending thing that there was no escape from. Not that he desired getting refuge from understanding the recruit; he sometimes didn't feel like talking. Obligations were needed to be fulfilled, regardless.

Stepping from the sheathe of shadows, the behemoth of a wolf strode into the clearing and neared the woman, the one Cry had seemed to retain well enough for her to meet 3 members, already. Well, here was their head.

Interested golden eyes kept on how she fished, taking the time to murder the squirming, flopping thing. He never had been one to enjoy the flavor of aquatic meals...they simply couldn't quench the thirst that a gullet's wine could.

"Hello. I am Slade, the leader of this aspiring band. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you, just yet." The statement hung in the air, soft and encouraging in the bass's dance to her.

the fish was soon dropped from her maw, suddenly aware, with the instinctual gut feeling that all wild things have, that she was being watched. the bass dropped from her maw, landing dully on the earth, and she turned swiftly and silently to observe this threat. it was only halfway through her spin that she remembered that she was with others now, and not on her own. then, if anything had approached silents, its intent was hardly good. but here, here was different. 

storm-cloud gaze found quickly the behemoth of a male that approached, running up and down the body quickly before falling to rest of the golden orbs. 'No" she answered in affirmative response, ancient accent still clinging to her words. "I am Aglæca . Nomad, until now." she offered, watching him still, and while her words were few, her gaze was hardly closed off. This, it seemed, would be her leader - the first in a long, long time.

Slade noted the startled reaction and stored it away in the darker recesses of his mind. With a friendly tone, he offered, "There is no need to fear anything in our vicinity. Cry has OCD when it comes to ensuring the proximity is clear of threats, and Makaro has a habit of dispersing lower unpleasantries. Leila, if she hasn't already made her appearance, is our healer, and Redmoon is capable of escorting you safely, if you need it. Loki is mainly the entertainment, a chimera I've grown fond of hearing tell stories. In summary, miss Aglæca," he wrapped up with a politely canted head. "You are safe whenever you are with us."

Slade sat, scooping up the scales from the once flailing fish and dropping them in the waters, both feeding the fish that dwelled there, and leading them to a false sense of security, while giving the new recruit more targets to aim for. A gestured brow to her indicated with a smooth movement that she had more food awaiting her snatch, is she so wanted for it.

"Have you found your life eased by being with us thus far?" He inquired, curious for her answer. He wondered exactly what she and Cry had gone through in their brief times together, but he need not pry; Cry usually revealed himself in subtle ways that only his sculpture could decipher. He kept his demeanor gentle and calm, patient for her to choose her words.

"I can dispatch threats, if needed- but thank you. I have spent too much time alone - being on guard, always, served me well" she offered as an explanation for her swiftness in meeting him head-on, and an assurance that she was hardly a damsel in distress. Her gaze followed his paw as her scattered scales across the water, as expected, the simple creatures moved quickly to gather up what they saw as another meal in their endless life of eating and swimming. She moved, again like a viper, and clasped another sinewy body, quick to end it methodically and efficiently, depositing it next to the first. 

She paused a moment before speaking, thinking of his question. "It is...different. It has been many months till I last served under another. It has been travelling, and surviving, and ranging wherever I may please. But one can hardly go on like that forever." she answered, truthfully. she had not sought another home since the fall of her last, determined to be her own leader and dictate her own fate. but things changed, she supposed.

A nod was the only thing which he replied to the woman, despite down him running through an entire list of words which he could have replaced the nod with. The response she had provided him with screamed her solitary life, how deep it had gorged it's claws in her lungs, the stillwater lacing her words with the abraisive response she gave. She was fresh, devoid of the pack life she once knew, but soon Slade and his family would change such thinking in the femme. There was much to learn, and for effects to be proper and natural, he would not rush her into this decision; she was free to leave whenever. She was no captive, no hostage. She was as free as a spirit  as she had always been. But once that pack howl solidified what they would have down in Shadewood, it would be final, and her life would no longer be simply hers to lead.

"Your past and mine are not too far from another, Aglæca. I too have been forever since serving another. But I chose not to serve any longer, more than likely different reasons than your own. Some wolves are meant to do more than be simple servants, just as some wolves are meant to not lead anyone but themselves. It is a fresh life, being a loner. No need to depend on another for your own desires, and holding your life clutched well between your own paws. I enjoyed it well in Phantom Hollows before a new lust took hold."

It was obvious what he referred to. He wasn't meant to serve another wolf; he was not old, decrepit, slouchy. He may have been a ripened wolf, but that made it all the better for him to take root and ground himself as a leader for others to look up to. He did indeed hope she understood, but if not, then the words would be cast as meaningless, and send adrift the wind.

his words had her reclining upon her haunches, no longer needing to fish, for she had what she wanted. nor was she especially on guard, for while Slade certainly had an impressive past, she felt it would be poor form for a leader to murder his followers. "It is a good life, but a hard one. But harder still is watching over the lives of others; I know this."  She remembered Zephyr, and Chusi, remembered what she had done for them, cared for them. It had not been enough to stop the girl from vanishing, the male too, though she suspected the former still lived; she was sure to charm her way into any pack she came across. 

the words simple servant, chaffed, however, and after a moment did she speak. " I can follow, and I can work. But I am no servant." if that was what the male expected from his followers, is his was a dictatorship, then here she could not stay. But Cry's words came to her, this was a Family, where all worked for one another. She did not worry past the few beats she had, reassured that this place was one she had not cemented her bonds too, yet, anyway. "Do you know where we will settle? Cry has told me it lays in the West." She wondered if the man operated on a desire to go West until they found the right place, of had a strict destination in mind.

Slade cocked an ear behind him, the left aud swiveling to catch the fleeting flutter of a bluejay heading off through the flatlands. Very prompt did it return to her as he reestablished his focus on her. He could see her visibly relax in his presence at his bid, and that pleased him; he wanted her comfortable, as it allowed more intimate and in depth feeling out of each other. For a wolf to be guarded of another only proved harder to establish a connection with one another. He wanted to exchange with her, not simply give.

"It is true. It takes a special resilience to prioritize others over your own singularity. However, it is those very minute grains of and that make a beach mighty. They work to increase the beach's influence, and even as some are swept away, this does not phase the beach," he narrated dragging a gentle paw against the line between the wet of the river and the sandy banks of its edge. "Because always more will come to replace those who are lost." It was a lesson all living things who worked in harmony had memorized. If in perfect tandem, the balance would always remain. One soul lost, another would soon fill its soles.

The Shadow Sire chose not to infringe on her beliefs. If she chose to label herself independant of all influence, tied down by nothing, so be it. But in truth, all were servants to something in one way to another. The Lord served his subject through flawless leadership. The subject served their lord through unhesitant thrallship. Whether this was seen in the cohersion of lows and highs or even balance, everyone was a servant. Was she not subject to serve her body? Food and thirst were demanded to be quelled, and in exchange she would be given life, energy, motion, health. Were the plants not in constant vie for nutrients from the soil, the air, the sun? Where it would release oxygen, minerals, the channels of root broken dirt for water to have safe and eased passage through? Servitude was more than the narrowminded view, but Slade understood how the sterotype was skewed. He would save this conversation for a later date  with the young beauty.

"I do. It is indeed West, a gorgeous sect of land, rich with forests and inspiring bounty for the royalty in which we will be. It will take quite the time to get there, but we aren't really in a rush, so this would be the best of times to get to know one another, in my opinion, as we travel. As hard as Cry travels, I wouldn't be suprised if this is his first real rest in a while. He pushes himself harder than most."

the woman knew well that no life was independent. she was enslaved to her own needs, and should she not serve her body she would not live. but it was here that her servitude ended, for she would not follow another blindly. when he did not contest this, she was silent on the matter,  finding further discussion on the fact would not serve any use. "Does it have a name?"  she questioned, more out of slight curiosity than a burning need to know the answer. 

At the mention of Cry, her brow quirked. "I see that. He moved at my pace, and I've been travelling all my life. Few can do that." she admitted, rather interested in the male. what debt did he owe, what aspect of him, made him work so hard in all he did? he was a curiosity, the man, and while she did not intend to leach his history from him, she wanted to understand him better.

"Shadewood, the locals have taken to calling it.  And once we get there, we will be it's keepers."

The answer was short, as he didn't have as much information on the rest of the fauna and such of the land; Makaro's analysis had been rather short. "It's like that of a jungle, partly humid with a many of rivers trails through it."

Slade caught her interest as soon as her eyebrow had sent its message. The words only confirmed the assumption. The fae's eye was on Cry. Nothing intimate, surely, but how his rogue son had functioned was near otherworldly. Most of it was indeed the Nightmare King's training, while the rest was honed through the savage life of solitude the youth brought upon himself.

"He pushes himself hard through physical barriers. He knows his boundaries, even when it seems he does not. Boy is a wonder, in my eye. I don't know what he strives for, but if perfection is his goal, then I support him in his attainment."

Slade returned back to the subject of the woman, his round of conversation being placed well in his reach.

"What of you? How do you see yourself assisting in the life of packhood?"

Slade held off on his opinions, but he had gathered so far that she could prove well in recon waork, considering she was an endurance traveller. From how she treated their conversation, he could very well see she didn't have it in her to openly converse until opened gently, which made poor for an Ambassador, but so was Cry. Is. So is Cry. Cry still had issues with speaking openly, but as far as recruitment, the mysterious onyxian did wonders. So he couldn't very well doubt her ability for Ambassadorship, now could he?

As far as her physical prowess, Slade felt her stamina had shown through, showing how capable she would be as a Scout, or a Ranger. But he hinted at nothing, as he wanted to see how she felt in such matters; it was her choice, after all.

He’d been watching them for some time now, not stalking or any such nefarious notion but simply observing. He wasn’t even hiding, it was the terrain that camouflaged him so well and his ruddy pelt made him kin to the foliage. In truth, he’d come to meet and greet, yet he had stopped short and decided to watch her from the distance. No, he’d never been one to openly approach another and the feeling made him back away from the task he had for this hour and so he determined better it be to observe and learn - then to approach. 

The better the feeling he obtained from this one then the better he would be able to react. He sighed, his mind was still at war within himself. The more he stayed here with others the more comfortable it felt, but getting to that point had been a real trial for the red pelt and he fought with it daily. Easier it’d be to just slink off into the night than to constantly show himself to others. No, that wasn’t true and he shot a huff to his lonesome self at the naivety of his thoughts. Aggravation also followed in how he failed time and again to mingle more with wolves that were supposed to be his family. He disliked how untrusting he was and as he watched her and studied her movements and body language, he noticed that she wasn’t too far off from how he felt either. 
Redmoon was a vagabond and a king. Lord unto himself and master of nothing. But here he’d found himself, surrounded by faces that smiled and trusted while he slept with one eye open on an elevated rock. As the days moved on he was coming around, but he was sure to escape the group as often as he could to venture outwards, ever scouting and patrolling. 

Not that he’d do too much. He had the heart but he was a poor fighter. About as poor as he was a hunter - for that matter about as poor as he was in everything.

But he tried to learn fast and his time with Cry had taught him much in the ways of scouting and traveling, his time with Anubis had purchased him some sense of a clandestine step, his time with Leila had taught him the value of life and how he wasn’t alone. And his time with Slade had taught him very fast, how to survive in a bad spat. Here, amongst the creek’s quiet, she was teaching him how not to catch fish… 

He mimicked her for a time, plunging his head into the deep after the shiny and tender meats that swam and played. Time and again he came back with nothing but water and once with some soggy grass. 

After some time and realization that he wasn’t really being discreet anymore, he retired from his fishing failures and gave himself a good shake. By now his appearance yonder had surely been discovered and so he made way to the duo, noting first the mass of Slade and he gave the dire a respectful nod after stopping a generous distance away from the two. Oh the look they probably had for him now, soaked and dwarfed by the giant, he was happily oblivious at this time. 

His nose went to work, stealing away her scent and taking it for his memory as well as the very sounds of her breathing patterns and speech. She was an interesting bit and so he gave her the courtesy of the day. But suddenly he was stolen away - how had he not seen this earlier? Her size and frame and even her coat bore stark similarities to his own. Could she be a wolf of his own kind? Certainly she wasn’t from this place, just as he. The typical blood here was the timber of the mighty grey wolf. He tried to stand a bit taller as he presented himself. 

“Lady, I should have come over earlier.” He dipped his head respectfully, “They call me Redmoon and it is my pleasure.” 
While his display was meant to deliver her one hundred percent of his attention, his ears were on the constant swivel and his nose was ever twitching as he sought the wood for movement, sound and smell. After the incident with Slade, he wasn’t about to be taken unawares again.

"How far is this place? How many days travel?" her blunt questions may have been considered rude, but her goal was not to preserve politeness and moral standards but to gain information of the place that might, one day, become her home. As for his question, she responded with a roll of her shoulders, slight, yet noticeable. "I can be useful as a scout, a ranger. I hunt as any wolf can, and I can fight. I can fight well."

Her gaze turned next to the second wolf to approach, his words impeccably polite, which, oddly, brought forth the slightest, well-hidden flicker of annoyance. those horribly polite often expected others to act in the same way to them. "Aglæca" she introduced, watching him keenly a moment. he was garbed in darker tones than she, dressed as she was in her pelt of golden tawny, laced with rust. Still, they were similar, in breed if nothing else.

He took her not as rude or cold but as not willing to waste time with pointless conversation. Respectful of that matter and realizing she wanted nothing to do with him outside of an introduction he suddenly supposed how foolish his own efforts had been at his entry. It was not in her body language that he caught her annoyance nor her vocal tones but the change in her scent. It was subtle and Redmoon picked up on it, such were his keen senses. Regardless of her disregardful feelings towards him, if she was to be part of this pack then he would not shirk his duty - whatever duty that was. 

Callously he turned aside, glancing ever outward. His ears mobile as he scanned endlessly for threats. Right, that was his duty. This pack stuff was turning out to be a lot of work. But aside from his grumbles, he had little to complain about. It had given him something to focus on and since prior he had nothing, he was taking to his new tasks as best he could. Not to mention those tasks kept him away from the individuals of the pack so that he didn’t have to talk to them - Red wasn’t in dislike of the wolves at his side, but he enjoyed his alone time. He was still uncomfortable about being surrounded by wolves without having to fight his way to freedom. 

Yet, here with Slade and Ag, he was seeking something to do and he knew that wasn’t the way to be. Despite her blunt assertion and nearly brushing him away, he sought to persist. This time, though, he decided to be less of a mutt about it. “A good hunter would suit well,” while it wasn’t his place to speak alongside Slade, he hadn’t learned his place either. He fought to withstand the urge to point out the obvious that she was well placed in catching the shinnies from the river. 

After that, however, if she was insisting to remain closed to him, he didn’t have much else to offer and he’d be about his business. No sense in wasting her time or his own. But as a pack, they had to get along in some merit of the word. Suddenly he realized he’d annoyed himself in suggesting the unity of a pack and how much a hypocrite he was. 

Inwardly he sighed, he had a lot to work on.