Fox's Glade does that secret handshake include me?
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Ooc — Miryam
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#1
All Welcome 

The foxes intrigued him. He knew he shouldn't indulge their little games, but he liked to watch them at night, see them go about their fox lives. Phocion was so small as to almost be one of them; he felt a kindred spirit with the creatures, and thus found himself in the glade quite often.

He kept to the western portion of the territory: any closer, and he risked running right into Easthollow. And while Valette and Xan co-existed peacefully here, he didn't want any trouble. Least of all with a pack he had once called his own, even if it had borne a different name, then.

The sky was partly cloudy, but the stars winked brightly when they peeked out, vivid against the moonless black expanse above. Fengari was at his weakest; Phocion felt it deep within, a sort of vulnerability that left him almost adrift during the day. When the orb was high and full, then, only then, would he feel at ease.

Yip yip yip, said the foxes. And if they cared for the sky at all, he'd never know. The white-pelted priest sat on a small rise, watching the stars.
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#2
Murdock did not care much for foxes - he did not care much for any creature, save the ones he'd come to call his own. Steph, Poppy, and even Valette to a certain extent. And as he cared for them, he cared for the wolves they cared for, to a certain extent. He'd do what he could for the rest of the pack. That included making sure the foxes knew where they belonged.

It did not take much. A few well-placed scent-markers along that side of the border. It was a good thing, too, because he was not sure how much more his ribs could take. Still intent on hiding this injury from the rest of his packmates, he travelled deeper into the the glade, until the scent of Easthollow was no longer so heavy in his nares. He'd been about to sit, except that a pale ghost danced somewhere up ahead, and Murdock was curious about any wolf that close to Easthollow's borders.

"Hey there," he called to the other, moving into plain sight. While the other male's coat stuck out among the dark vegetation, Murdock's tended to blend in. Neither of them needed to hide like apparitions when he was only trying to have a conversation. "You're one of the neighbors, eh?" he asked, detecting the scent of the valley on the other's coat. He'd been instructed to be tolerant toward the valley wolves, but then, he was a tolerant wolf by nature. He offered an idle wag of his tail.
[Image: AIUhSFO.png?2]
249 Posts
Ooc — Miryam
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A dark form materialized amidst the trees, and Phocion found himself staring at a burly brown male, his golden eyes aglow in the dim light. He nodded at his question, a small smile playing over his muzzle.

"Nice to meet you, neighbor," he shot back, his tone easy-going. "You are from Easthollow, right?" The scents he had detected on Valette also clung to this man's pelt, along with other, curious smells--children, probably the alpha female's, and something more faint, more musky. . .

He pulled his eyes downward for a moment, afraid he was staring too intently. He tended to do that, to scrutinize others too close for comfort, when his mind was wandering.
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"Yeah," he agreed, not surprised that his pack was as known to the stranger as the stranger's pack was to him. "Easthollow. I'm Murdock," he introduced, stiffening slightly under the other's scrutiny. When the man's gaze lingered a bit too longer, he pressed forward, his steps confident and somewhat domineering, but lacking any signs of aggression.

"Who're you?" he added, perhaps a bit more gruffly than was polite. He reached the male's side and dove in without permission, sifting his nose through the pale fur of the man's shoulder and nape.
[Image: AIUhSFO.png?2]
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Ooc — Miryam
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#5
He took a startled step back as this man--Murdock--pressed his muzzle into Phocion's shoulder, eyes flashing for a brief instant, like a turbulent sea. His tribe, while loving, was also physically aloof; wolves did not touch often, and they certainly did not touch strangers or newcomers. Not like this.

On Silvertip it had been different, but then, his time on Silvertip was short compared to the moons he had spent with the tribe. And he had been alone, before all of that.

"Um, I'm Phocion," he murmured, his voice shy and boyish for the first time in a while. No one had managed to rattle him this much since he had gone south. He gave a nervous grin, a bit tremulous at the corners. "From Bearclaw Valley," he confirmed, tone growing a bit more bold.

His gaze narrowed, surveying the wolf in front of him. "You remind me of someone," Phocion began, "but I can't think of who."
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#6
Satisfied with this small show of power - and Phocion's resulting discomfort - Murdock stepped back and gave an idle wag of his tail.

"That's odd," said Murdock, not thinking of the family he had west of the mountains. It seemed incredible that he'd found them at all, and it didn't occur to him that someone else might have as well. Probably, the man had met some other brown wolf in his lifetime - Murdock was not a wolf of rare coloration.

Phocion, for his part, evoked no strange senses of recollection in Murdock. The man noted that he was a bit pretty, and not much more than that. "It's a relatively new pack, isn't it? Or have you been here longer?"
[Image: AIUhSFO.png?2]
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"New enough, yes," Phocion murmured, looking back toward the general direction of the valley. "They seemed fairly established when I arrived. I used to be part of a pack called Silvertip Mountain, though. Just across the range."

The priest wondered whether Murdock would have heard of it. The man seemed more than a few seasons older than him, and comfortable enough with the territory to suggest he'd lived here for a good deal of time. Then it dawned upon him--Easthollow was the remnants of Silvertip. Lost in his thoughts, he had completely forgotten that connection.

Phocion laughed nervously. "Of course, Silvertip is now Easthollow. I keep forgetting," he said, eyes lit in apology. "I don't remember seeing you there, though."

Suddenly, he recalled a more pressing matter--there was a small comet, set to streak acros the sky tonight! His presence as a star-singer was sorely needed, and he couldn't be stuck here in idle chit-chat with the neighbor, no matter how friendly and good-looking he was!

With a wag of his tail, Phocion took a couple steps backward. "I'm so sorry, but I have to go," he explained, mouth caught somewhere between a smile and a frown. "Nice to meet you. . .Murdock. Give Valette my best." Nodding, he turned away and took off, hoping to catch the comet before it was too late.

If he had known it would be the last time he'd see Murdock again, he would have lingered longer.


fading here, so sorry for the wait