Broken Boulder wolves in the throne room
let sleeping dogs lie
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#1
All Welcome 
Out of sheer curiosity, Atomsk had turned back far east to find what he may have missed out on his first venture this way. He hadn't come nearly this far before, and coincidentally missed all the packs he felt interested to find— there were at least three of them he could've crossed paths with by now— but he pressed on still. It wasn't until he realized that he come onto a border marked for a pack that he did stop his forward progression.

He was both annoyed and curious about the buffer, but instead of calling for an audience: he let himself in, setting his pace to a meandering walk as he studied and snuffled about his surroundings with mounting suspicions and a defensive pair of eyes and ears cast out like radar. It was still early, perhaps too early for any hunters to be out and about, but Atomsk was a broad target and severely visible even in the clouded lowlight of dawn.

Though all are very much welcome, I was hoping to help out @Vilkas with their guardian request :) (Post was edited to correct a misunderstanding about the borders.)
LIVΞ BY MY OWN LΛW
75 Posts
Ooc — Tori
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thank you for helping me out with my trade!

vilkas's internal clock tells him that it's early even as a thick cover of overcast clouds conceal the myriad of colors he's used to seeing as he dutifully patrols; not that he takes time to appreciate the brush strokes of pastel colors mother nature uses to paint her dawn touched skies. to appreciate things like that ...it takes a finesse that the raptorial firebrand does not possess. in the beginning, things are quiet and much the same; again he thinks that the sanctuary is lucky that they are rather secluded at the very northern tip of the wilds. ...things were quiet and normal until they weren't. the scent, still fresh, prickles at black, leathery nostrils that flare as he pauses to bow his head and sniff at the borders. his upper lip curls back from his teeth as his salmon pink tongue draws across his teeth and jowls as he re-directs himself with a sharp movement and a low rumble in his throat.

the firebrand pursues the scent trail, hackles bristling along his nape and spine the closer he draws to the trespasser. everything in vilkas is geared towards hostility, his muscles screaming at him to attack as the trespasser comes into view. seaweed green gaze locks onto the trespasser and the firebrand visibly struggles between instinct and alarian's laws and the sanctuary's way. initial hostility and aggression is not their way because this trespasser could be in need of help. vilkas resists the urge to roll his eyes at the thought. a trespasser was a trespasser regardless of reason for it.

vilkas lingers back, sticking to the shadows though he makes no moves to be discreet and is not necessarily seeking to hide. vilkas wants the trespasser to know that he's there even though he does not yet desire to make contact. for the moment, the firebrand is content to shadow and watch.
he has the holy fire of the gods within him,
that leaves his body gaunt, his blood burning,
and his eyes intoxicating.
let sleeping dogs lie
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Much like his surveyor, if given a set of borders Atomsk would have defended them fiercely and without remorse. He had no ideology that wolves were to be coddled, and to put it simply from his perspective: a wolf didn't deserve its life if it could not be useful. This may not apply to someone he loved, but hypocrisy often comes into play when its you and not them. He'd be so lucky to come across a pack like this if he was in dire need.

As things were, however, he was quite fit -- and furthermore made pompous because of it. It made him foolish enough to believe he could ramp through this place and find his way past strict boundaries without being forced to do otherwise. He had chosen the right (read: only) pack to do this to; any other wolves, he might not've been so lucky.

He froze the moment he noticed his shadow; one paw lifted in a pose mid-step as he turned his head to meet the eye of his would-be oppressor. His hackles rippled, prepared for a fight, but several excruciating seconds marched by before he realized that the male wasn't going to accost him. Not physically, anyway. Atomsk was confused, and though he felt subtly encouraged to continue what he was doing, the experienced wolf was unwilling to turn his back on the guard.

He remained still, just as wordless and watching as his younger compatriot while he wondered silently what kept the flame-backed wolf from asserting his superiority as a packwolf. He made no play for dominance -- despite feeling that he should -- and instead turned his neutral posture to one that was more inviting now that his worry for reprimand had gone clear from his head. His thick tail wagged slowly, waving away at the unspoken tension between them, and he waited politely to be approached since it was clear now that he wasn't going to leave of his own volition.