Dragoncrest Cliffs Pressures of a new place roll my way

@Mallaidh

A cool ocean breeze moved through East's fur as he lowered his head to the lake and drank. Soon, he would probably escape somewhere outside the borders, having fulfilled his duty for the day by spending most of the first half marking the borders and keeping an eye out for danger. He lifted his head from the water and licked away any drops that had been left over. Sitting back on his haunches, he listened to the waves of the ocean that could be heard in the distance. His ears occasionally flicked towards some random noise in the distance as he sat quietly near the lake, content to stay here for a while lost in his own thought as usual. He had always been content with his own company, but even more so now that he had so much weighing on his mind. It seemed the only solace he found from his own thoughts was the almost nightly wanderings of the lands outside the borders of Drageda, so late every night, he would slip from the territory and explore in an attempt to find peace. Right now, though, he seemed to be alone here at the lake, and found it to be almost as peaceful as his excursions.

At some point, Mallaidh has to integrate herself back into Drageda life. There are enough newer wolves that it will be easy but the older members may take a little more time. She’s kept away from Hougeda, for the most part—she doesn’t know how welcome she is, despite earning her place once. Likely, she’ll have a while to go before she’s earned it a second time.
 
She heads toward the lake, hoping (but also not hoping) to run into @Artaax. She doesn’t have a clue what he knows or if he knows she’s back. It would be easy to call him but something keeps her quiet, making the familiar path through the redwoods that opens her out to the lake. On the other side sits a wolf, tawny in color, and she immediately realizes she doesn’t know him. The wolves she’s more familiar with have distinct markings (or lack thereof) so she sucks in a breath and crosses the distance to get to the lake. She leaves enough space between them to let him decide if he wants to interact, but she watches him with curiosity with clear intent.

The presence for another pulled him from his thoughts and brought his head around to face the stranger. He recognized her scent from around, but he had never met the female. It seemed being alone wasn't on the agenda, but he really didn't mind so much. He dipped his head politely in greeting. Hello, I'm Eastwood, he offered. He stood then and moved a little closer to the cream and chocolate colored wolf so they could talk a little easier. And you are? he asked as he sat down. He hadn't met a lot of the wolves here, which was mostly his fault, so he was looking forward to getting to know one of his new packmates. He glanced back over the lake as he waited for her answer, watching the ripples move through the water towards them.

Her pack mate isn’t put off by the idea of interacting with her so her tail sways to and fro. She isn’t sure she could handle her fist interaction being negative (luckily she’s avoided Blixen’s mother through all this). The stranger—Eastwood, he says—closes the rest of the distance and she dips her head politely too. “I’m Mallaidh,” she tells him. She’s on the verge of admitting that she’s a friend of Blixen but she remembers the fiery girl is the commander now and the last thing she needs is someone thinking a certain way about her because of the help she had. “Are you from, um, Trigeda? Or Sangeda?”

She offered her name in return. Nice to meet you, he answered, his bronze gaze moving to her face once more. She inquired about where he had come from revealing that she was familiar with his home, but he was pretty sure she wasn't actually from there; he would surely recognize her if she had been. I'm from Sangeda, but I was born in Trigeda. I haven't been here very long, he replied. What about you? Where do you come from? How long have you been in Drageda? he asked, eyebrows drawing together inquisitively. He was interested to know how she came to be here. Hopefully it was a more pleasant story than his own.

Pleasantries and introductions are exchanged. Mallaidh offers him a tight lipped smile and slight nod, listening as he describes where he’s from. She doesn’t know very much about the other packs. Eske’s parents lead one, but she doesn’t remember which, so she doesn’t say anything else as he returns the same questions. If she wanted to know about either, she supposed he would be the one to ask.
 
Her mouth opens to answer but clicks it closed, realizing she doesn’t have to lie anymore. Pale green eyes blink a few times, she clears her throat and shakes her head, and finally speaks as she’s always wanted to: “I was born in a pack called Teaghlaigh. It was led by my parents,” she says, with some pride, but it is quickly glossed over. “And um, I’ve been in Drageda a while… sorta. I just got back,” she says, trailing off at the end.

East listened quietly while she explained where she came from. She stated that she had been in Drageda for a while, or rather was here, left, and then came back. He was curious to see what lead her from the pack but decided not to pry. He looked away again and focused on the lake. Without moving his gaze from the water, he said, Well, it appears you came back at the right time; a few pack members left shorty before I arrived, so it seems they're in need of wolves to help out. He gave a little shrug after he spoke, his eyes still fixed on the lake. Having things to keep him busy certainly made things a little easier for him, he wouldn't be able to stand being idle with his thoughts.

“I heard,” she says, though somewhat quietly. She doesn’t have a lot of details on the situation. She focused primarily on the fact she doesn’t have to face Heda any time soon and has time to rack up some points in the meantime. What Eastwood doesn’t know about her will hopefully work in her favor, unbiased in his decisions when it comes to her. Artaax and Blixen and the others know her as Furi, which she’s working on breaking, but until then she’d rather cling to something as neutral as she can make it. “But um, what’s going on?” she decides to ask. “The only other time Heda left was to go to war last winter.”

He tensed at her question but quickly recovered. The war came with painful memories, and it wasn't his favorite thing to talk about, but he didn't see why he couldn't give her the gist of it. There was a pack that attacked and took over Maungeda, he started, keeping his gaze trained on the water so as not to give away any emotion that happened to flash in his eyes as he spoke. Trigeda sent an army to try and help. There was a battle, but they did not succeed. Many were injured and are residing back at Trigeda while they recover, he finished. He left out the details surrounding his father's death, not wanting to talk about it ever and thankful that she was unaware and couldn't ask him about it.

Mallaidh doesn’t know much about Maungeda, at least not as much as the other two. It’s a branch that absorbed later on, if she remembers correctly, but she listens with concern. War is the last thing she wants anything to do with but she has trained with the wolves of Drageda, gone to war for them*, she’s trained beneath the Wanlida and Steltrona in respective skills and they are both gone. She does not hold any specific title within Dragedakru that means anything beyond expendable. The pack would not trust her with such a position in the absence of their leader and many warriors.
 
“Are they going back to war?” she asks. “Heda and the others?”

* technically, she went only because Blixen was going and putting herself in danger and Mallaidh couldn't stand the thought of not being there. In fact, she didn't even see war. Neither did Blixen. They stood on the outskirts while the Real Adults went in and fought. Lame.

He nodded. I assume so, he replied. If that's what it takes to fix things. If he was there, he'd gladly offer his assistance, but he wasn't; he was here avoiding his problems and attempting to find some kind of routine to make passing the time a little easier. Sometimes, he regretted his decision to leave, thinking it would be easier to be lonely there than to be forced to deal with uncomfortable things here, but he knew it wasn't really that easy. He was sad in either place; at least here had family, even if his relationship with his mom was tainted with resentment.  

He tore his gaze from the water to look at his packmate. Have you ever fought in a war before? he asked, eager to change the subject. The war back home brought up too many painful memories, and he wasn't too interested in discussing it any further. Maybe she had stories about her own experiences that could take his mind of things.

Mallaidh nods her head knowingly. She’d seen firsthand that if Heda has to fix things, she fixes them. “I guess she will come back here when it’s over?” she sort of questions, but doesn’t expect an answer. Why wouldn’t she? Her mate and children are here and surely she’d return, unless death takes her in battle (but that’s nearly impossible, right? Right, Cruz?).
 
“Um, not really. There was a war in the winter and I went with the group. Us and another pack, Redhawk Caldera, were fighting against a pack that kidnapped Heda’s mate. I didn’t see any of the war, though. Artaax and me stayed on the outskirts should they try to come toward the caldera. But we won and they’re gone now,” she tells them, completely unaware the war did little in the long run. “I didn’t really like leaving to go to war,” she explains with a shrug. “I’m a pretty good scout and I like to travel but I know Drageda and the surrounding areas like the back of my paw. An enemy wouldn’t stand a chance,” she says with more confidence than she’s had in a long time.

He remembered hearing of the war she mentioned but didn't really know much about it. Why did they kidnap Heda's mate? he asked, concern on his face. He remembered hearing about that and had always wondered what would possess wolves to take a member from another pack. Surely there were better ways to achieve whatever goal they had. You said you guys waited on the outskirts for any enemies that might try to get into the other pack's lands? Eastwood asked. What was your plan if they had? he added, his gaze curious. He was genuinely interested in her strategy and the thought process there.

Mallaidh stares at Eastwood for a moment, trying to remember anything that she may for an answer. It had been uncertain, she thinks. No one really knew. Blackfeather is so far away from Drageda, they hardly have any shared interest, but even if there had been a reason, would she know at all? The girl shakes her head and shrugs it off, after a moment. “I don’t know,” she decides, leaving it at that.
 
“I guess it depends on how many. If there were only a few, I guess we would have fought them off. Or tried to,” she tells him. She and Artaax had earned their spot as warriors for Drageda but they’d been young and still inexperienced, no matter how much training they’d put into it. “If there were a lot, I think we would have howled a warning and gotten back to protect those left behind of the caldera.” No wolf resided in Caldera during the war, having moved north to be out of the way and in a relatively safe position. Her eyes light up as she thinks about it, having never put much thought into it since that day. “No one was at the caldera, though, so we’d have been a decoy,” she tosses out once she remembers, able to learn from something that still happened long ago. She’d need to think about it and how to further use and develop her tactician skills.

She wasn't sure of the details surrounding the kidnapping, so with a shrug, he let it go, focusing on the rest of her story. She explained that they would have fought if not outnumbered, but ran back to the pack's lands if they had been. A decoy. Good idea, he offered, nodding his head. Lead them to believe the vulnerable was still back home, so that they would be safe and to possibly cause confusion.

Fighting in a battle requires a lot of strategy and teamwork. It sounds like you guys held an important role, he added, looking out over the water again. Most of the battle that he had been in was a blur of rage and blood, but he had always remembered his role, even when everything else was clouded by his need for blood as payment for the death of his father.

“Yeah. We didn’t end up doing anything, but,” she pauses, thinking about it. They would have been okay. Yeah. It would have been fine. “But, you know, it could have.” This time, she adds a smile. Eastwood seems to have seen his share of battle, already mentioning one and too fresh scars on his shoulder reminds her of the one Artaax received. She doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or bad thing she doesn’t have any yet but so far, she manages to get by without one.
 
After that, she doesn’t really know what to say, but she clears her throat anything. “Maybe we should get some wolves together and train together. Might be good to know how we all fight, should we have to while they’re gone,” she decides, wagging her tail a little. No need to get soft in their absence.

He nodded in agreement. He thought it was probably better that way. Sometimes, battle couldn't be avoided, but it was always better when it could be. Just because he had the ability to be a warrior didn't mean he sought out war. To him, it just meant he was ready to protect what he cared about.

East's expression lightened a little at her suggestion. Good idea, he offered. It would be a good way to stay in shape and to work off some energy. I don't really know many others here, he stated with a small shrug of a shoulder, but I'd be down for that. It might be a good way to meet other like-minded wolves like him and, from what he could tell, Mallaidh. She seemed to have had similar training to what he had.

Cameeoooooooo :D

Whether or not she had truly hoped to find him didn't matter in the end. He had found her.

The pale wolf stood silent on the jagged edges of the rocks that crested the beach, staring with mismatched eyes as the pair in the distance spoke to each other. He had been on his way to the shores when he spied them, heard her voice, heard his name. He had stopped to watch her - his face an unreadable mask (which.. it kind of always was).

He stood for one minute.

Two.

Five.

And then he turned and slipped away. Back up the cliffs, past the borders, and into the Wilds beyond Drageda.

There’s a weird sort of validation hearing the good idea from Eastwood. She doesn’t know him and he hardly knows her but he has roots deeper in Drageda than she ever will. She can devote her life to them and still be labeled an outsider by some, including Blixen, but hearing praise from another settled deep no matter how small, she feels a bit better. Maybe, she thinks, she made the right decision.
 
Before she has a chance to speak, she turns her gaze when something pale catches her attention. Mallaidh blinks dumbly in the distance, watching Artaax stand in the background. He doesn’t stay very long, and she doesn’t react fast enough to go after him (does she want to go after him)? She’s suddenly faced with a memory she’s repressed but a new surge of anxiety comes over her and she realizes how much she actually needs to talk to him. It is clear by his departure that he does not want to talk to her and her ears droop a little on her head as she turns back to her companion.
 
“I’ll uh, I’ll talk to Blixen about it and see if she’d be up for working with us,” she says with a thump of her tail. “But I think I should get going. It was nice to meet you,” she manages, awkwardly, as her mind can think of nothing else than the last time she’d been with Artaax.

Eastwood didn't notice the brief addition of the a third wolf somewhere in the distance. When Mallaidh offered to bring up her idea to the commander, he gave a quick nod in agreement. She then stated she had to go and that it was nice to meet him. He inclined his head once more. Nice to meet you as well, he replied. Let me know what Blixen says, otherwise, I'll see you around, he added, moving to stand up. With one more dip of his head, he turned to trot into the trees and eventually outside the borders unless there was anything else his packmate needed to say.