The Sentinels but i know you too well

maybe @Rannveig but AW !

dalia felt that she somehow fit well into the bizarre grouping that was... well, what was this pack? ford was so stoic, so solemn. she could never read him, not quite, but she somehow found everything about him to be so genuine. and velen and rannveig! oh, how crude they were! but they were also so friendly and personable, and dalia found she quite liked them. truth be told, each of the mayfair-cairns were charming in their own way. even though dalia was strikingly different, far more naive and innocent-- more prim and proper-- she felt she was a good balance to them all. 

she hoped they agreed. 

dalia wandered the charred forest bordering their claim, her nose twitching. there were some signs of life within it... though, not much, only a few growing sprouts or weeds. for the most part, it was as dead as it could be. her cropped fur ruffled as a chilled breeze blew by her, but she continued through the woods, taking a delicate step over a burned log as she went.

his wounds were on the mend, no small thanks to izel. he was perhaps not quite fit enough to travel, but his paws were restless, and he found himself on the move. not for good--he wasn't ready, yet, to leave the plateau behind. but he needed some kind of small adventure; it was a hunger, deep in the pit of his stomach.

govinda clambered down the smallest part of the cliffs and found himself in the ruined forest, the once-proud trees reduced to shells of their former selves. he meandered through, feeling as if this were some sort of extended metaphor. it was much like the question of life imitating art (or vice versa). unlike the woods, though, he had brought the fire upon himself. the trees were innocent.

he ceased his existential musings when he came across the woman, similarly walking through the trees. giving her a chuff, he limped over to her, brows raised in question. she was young--it reminded him of dawn, and his heart ached--and smelled strongly of the sea: she was as much a part of the waves as he. one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.

"i hope you don't live here," govinda murmured, trying to ease the sadness of this place.

this place was supposed to be home; the charred trees silent sentinels to days that had long since sunk into ruin. an old doom clung angrily to the grizzled realm, as bleak and as grey as the burnt forms of lifeless trees.  

to rannveig it wasn’t the home he had envisioned. how had his mother, so soft and fair, been birthed from this desolate place? how had the clay that made her so finely wrought sprung from these devoid halls?

seeing dalia was a welcome distraction. rannveig had decided she was likeable, and therefore worth his time. she had taken the brothers’ weird quips in stride, emanating a poise that delighted the Mayfair-cairn.

she was not alone; rannveig slowed to a respectful stop, feeling a rill of fur climb on his back. this was not his home, but somehow the idiot felt protective of it - yet it appeared the agouti that had approached dalia was not there to harm her. or anyone for that matter, thought rannveig as he judgingly observed the man’s limp.   rannveig flashed on a smile, and then promptly turned it off as he faced the pair: ”cheery place, isn’t it? you can definitely tell it’s where ford gets his personality.”

first it was a stranger who appeared. he commented on the state of the forest, and dalia grew a bit wary. she was, for some reason, protective over it. maybe it was ford's fault for leaving such an impression upon her, but she felt that they had just as much claim to the charred forest as they did the ocean-- it was handed down a generation. it belonged to thee mayfair-cairns. it belonged to her, by default.

so when rannveig arrived, and commented about ford, dalia gave a gentle woof of polite amusement, and then returned, "it has charm." that's kind of you, dalia.

they were joined soon by a rangy gray man, and both of them seemed. . .stiff, suspicious. govinda wondered if his solitude, though brief, had dulled his normally sharp sense of manners, and he inhaled, scenting for border markings. he found none; he cast his gaze upon the newcomer, then back to the girl, not sure who this ford was that they referred to--

--feeling very much like the third wheel in a conversation he was not meant to overhear.

"have i intruded upon your home, or part of it? if so, i apologize," govinda said softly, lowering his head the barest amount. a small bow, the remainder of his courtly charm. "i am new to this part of the coast and am still getting my bearings." his eyes were gentle with apology, but there remained a question in them, all the same.

it has charm. rannveig's eyes flashed to dalia quietly, thinking. was this cold, awful place the only thing that charmed her? or, he wondered -- was that her type?

shortly thereafter, that dumb grin rose unfractured to his grey features. the male was given a polite look, to supplement his equally polite bearings. damn, was he courteous. rannveig hadn't seen a wolf with such careful deportment in, well, ever -- govinda was a far cry from the rough-and-tumble commitment of his brothers.

he dug a claw into the ash, his brow creasing. "hmmm. we don't own it." he answered in his easy way, the smile still lingering. "but my brother would argue otherwise. i guess you could say it is important to the family, or something. i'm new here myself. we only just arrived to the coast a week ago."

did not realize it was my turn WHOOPS

everything charmed dalia. the natural world had so much charm. but-- oh, scoundrel. he was thinking about ford. the same applied, i suppose. everyone charmed dalia.

oh dear. and then she realized she was maybe being a bit too uptight. uptight? oh-- she didn't know. but this fellow seemed concerned he was intruding. was it just their conversation? or was it her? was she making things weird? 

unfortunately, dalia couldn't help but feel self conscious about the whole thing.

so, when rannveig spoke, dalia nodded along silently, a small smile pressed to her lips. "i'm from further up the coast," she added after he'd finished, "but i'm traveling with them now."

i see, govinda said politely, nodding. he wasn't very familiar with the concept of ownership. defending a territory--sure! but he had never had a family, and thus had never had familial land over which to be possessive. he could sympathize with it, though. and it seemed that the girl was not a part of this family, either, though had found herself with them much like he had integrated into morningside.

my name is govinda, he introduced himself, lifting his nose to point back the direction he came. i live on the plateau over there--perhaps only for a short while, until i move on. i'm not sure. the word plateau felt so strange in his mouth; it reminded him of the good days with dawn, pema, grayday. . . oh, grayday. what he wouldn't give to hear the man's words of wisdom just once more.

rannveig thought as he looked on dalia (fair dalia - he could see, maybe with a twinge of brotherly jealousy, what ford might find attractive in her) he caught the flicker of something - doubt, unease? a lack of innate assurance?

his attention on her didn't linger long; he didn't want to look weird, staring down the pretty girl -- plus, the man in front of them was speaking.

had rannveig hands he might have extended his for this fellow - and had govinda clasped his hands, he might have noticed the pumping strength in his grip, or the way his rough hands seemed to mirror his rough eyes: warm, but not entirely friendly.

his gaze followed the direction the man had motioned in; the plateau, nameless and invisible, sunk behind a scowling line of grey trees. rannveig thought if his brother was here, either brother, they would try to talk govinda out of returning to that plateau -- certainly, in their absence, he ought to try.

"until you move on," he echoed, a light in his gaze that said he caught onto that: "if you're not sure -- you could travel with us." he wasn't as smooth a talker as velen, or even as commanding as ford, but -- the one thing rannveig had in his favor was that, to most, he appeared down-to-earth and approachable. at least, he liked to think so. "no pressure; we're just traveling ourselves, could always use a hand or two -- and you look like someone who -- don't take this the wrong way -- has seen some shit."

he paused after that profanity, and then grinned: "might be useful."

dalia was focused on govinda as rannveig was focused on her, and so she did not notice his assessing gaze. perhaps it was for the better, she might've worried he was judging her. 

she smiled gently at rannveig's profanity, somehow finding the vulgarity of him and his brother to be charming-- in it's own way. not attractive, per say, but it gave them a personality she was not accustomed to. her bright gaze found him for a moment, studying his pale features, before she looked back towards the man before them.

nodding, dalia added, "i'm sure we'd help each other out." though dalia was unsure of how she would be helpful, she was sure one day her knowledge in healing would be useful.

his face grew impassive as the young man extended the offer, taking it in while holding his cards close to his chest. tempting, sure. . .but he had izel to think about. not that she couldn't take care of herself, but he did owe his life to her, in part. would she be willing to take up with this band of youngsters? he wasn't quite sure on that.

thank you, govinda responded, his voice half-wry as he acknowledged the profane judgment. you are right on that account. i will think it over. we are not so far from each other that our paths will not cross again. it was true--the forest had only been a short journey away from the plateau. if it was truly meant to be, this would not be the last time govinda would see the pair.

how many are in your group? he added, ears swiveling in interest. he smelled quite a few on their pelts, but there were--to his knowledge--no others nearby.

the invite that had slipped from rannveig's lips, easy as could be, was just as easily -- albiet politely -- deferred. rannveig had learned a long time ago a half-yes was a no -- many a lady had spurned his advances with curled smiles, promising they would think on it. in rannveig's opinion they must have known within seconds they had little intention of mingling with him, but had spared him the humilation of a crushing rejection.

his gaze flickered to dalia, who had nodded alongside him and offered her own brief quip: sweet, dalia with the assist -- except, no goal today as far as rannveig could tell.

he was a gregariously indeflatable wolf for the most part, so he failed to take govinda's lack of a serious answer personally: he felt the male was sincere, at least -- and that counted for something.

"oh, a couple -- me, two other brothers --" he bent in close and felt the need to explain --"not as handsome or as likeable as me of course, and two sisters. both total babes, if that's your thing--" (were they, though? objectively they were as attractive as any wolf, but rannveig knew that neither were easy on the men that clamored for their attention) "and dalia, of course. so... six, if i can count right, which i probably can't."

oh! he could not call his siblings total babes! dalia felt that violated some sort of code of morals. but, whatever, she wouldn't bring it up to the stoney man today. maybe tomorrow-- or maybe never, maybe it was none of her business. she wondered what ford thought of his sisters-- did he call them total babes? 

somehow, dalia doubted it.

"six," she echoed when he was done, amusement spreading across her face despite the dislike in his choice of descriptors for his sisters. rannveig was funny, in a different way than velen. it was kind of a dumb charm, he seemed to play at something like an intellectual weakness. somehow, dalia doubted this was actually how he was. she could guess he was pretty intelligent... just based off of ford, and their last interaction. she wondered if he used it as some sort of tactic-- to bring other's guards down. it was smart, actually. dalia wasn't sure she could do that, though. "there are six of us," she repeated, tail wagging a bit. she felt a little honored to be the only non-family member in the pack thus far. it made her feel good about herself-- like she was special enough to belong.

rannveig reminded him a lot of himself, some years ago. the kind of cocksure swagger that marked the young man's gait and speech was all too familiar; govinda found himself smiling without meaning to, silently drawing the parallels between them. well, best of luck, bhai, he responded, wagging his tail. he turned his gaze to dalia. safe travels.

he didn't have much more to say, and so with a gentle nod toward the pair--lovely to meet you, but i must be going soon--he turned and began to pad off, eyes lingering over the ruined forest. when had it happened? he wondered. how long ago?

if rannveig had caught the glint of disapproval (hey, dalia -- my sisters are total babes) he might have sat her down on her pretty bum and explained to her that the one way to rope in a vagrant man was usually with the promise of fine woman-flesh. if that didn't work, he might even have offered ford (not a total babe) - or even velen (debatable) - if that was the wolf's sort of thing.

but it appeared it wasn't. govinda seemed unmoved by such fine attractions. fine. be that way -- rannveig supposed it meant more women for hi-- wait, scratch that.

he couldn't help the stir of his own tail in response though: at least govinda didn't seem offended by his charm (unlike miss charm school over here, who secretly thought calling sisters total babes was wrong. UR RONG!!) he didn't quite know what bhai meant, but grinned after its utterance all the same.

"see ya around, chief." rannveig rejoined, the smile that lingered on his lips genuine. he didn't mind govinda -- actually, he thought govinda was alright. maybe they'd come across one another again - rannveig thought that might be nice.