Hideaway Strath old gods still prowl among the thickets

forward-dated 2 days from now. let's pretend that tusk didn't just teleport down here? semi-realism

the sun had been swallowed by a thick blanket of storm clouds. they had moved in early in the morning and lingered above the peaks of the mountains without venturing any further. it seemed as though it was the intention of the divine billowing things to remain where they were for all of eternity. at least, that was how it appeared to the beasts on the earthen floor. the promise of snow was swept through on the breeze. with it was the touch of winter and the fearful chill that seemed to cling to the bones of all things corporeal. tusk braced himself against the icy breath of it until he had prowled across the morass and into the thick brush of the hideaway. the trees on either side of him acted as a shield against frigidity that existed outside.

passing through the wooded portion of the territory, the wildcat made wolf seemed to find a sense of peace there. the wolf on the mountain had not been wrong when he had said that the rest of it did not hold a candle. while the other had been talking of the creatures who had found dwellings nearby, tusk seemed to think that of the landscape as well. though there were great mountains that jutted to the skies, he did not believe them to hold the same savagery as the heights did. still, he was offered some reprieve from the cold as he pushed further. his lean frame sauntered onward, stopping only to cast his lightless yellow gaze to the heavens above.

~pretends that Cry didn’t just teleport down here too~

Cry knew very well that in order to make their presence known in Tutku, specifically Shadewood, they would need members. He would ask @Phex if she could do a bit of Ambassadorship herself and find others interested in finding a home before winter truly set in with a fierceness. The bright girl had charisma, and her smile seemed to enhance anyone’s day. So while she was on her espionage to recruit the stragglers, Cry himself went to look for any near and far in the unexplored lands.

The Assassin drifted from one sector of forest to another, over creeks and small frozen veins of water, glacial irises searching for anything that moved and about searching for any trail to latch onto. The ebonian has managed to lock onto something, and while the scent was a bit blurred from others running over it, he stuck to it by familiarity. This was another wolf; he had to investigate. 

It wasnt too too long before he ended up in another sect of timbers, but the scent grew stronger here. His target was nearby, and he didn’t exactly want to spook them. So he voided his trademark silence, and continued jauntily through the forest, making slight traces of noise.

the movement of a stranger was not missed by the wildcat. after a short while, he had ceased his own movements in order to follow the sounds of the individual who did not care to mask his presence. it was evident that the other brute was not hunting, or half of the prey in the forest would have been scattered to the next territory. this caused tusk to believe that he was the one being sought by the stranger in the thicket. imagining it to be one of his siblings, the wild-furred cur hunkered low to the earth and moved forward in a prowl with all of the grace of a junglecat. the lean rippling of his muscles showed sign of having traveled a great distance before that moment. it was no strain on him. once he had found a dark patch of brambles, tusk clambered inside and waited. he would see just who had opted to scout with him into the wood, and whether or not they would regret making such choices.

And just like that, the trail ended in a bushel of frosted forestry.

"Shit", he cursed aloud. He had gone from being nonchalant to too noticable, and whoever he had been following didn't want to be found. But they knew he was onto them, and this was bad.

Immediately, the Assassin reverted back to his prior teachings and had to rpioritize whether this was a choice worth making that could risk his life or not. But considering he had a family to oversee, he couldn't and SHOULDN'T have carelessly ambled behind a potential threat like this. Yet from the memory of the scent, this was a male, and alone. No other pawprints had come, and the scent was still fresh here.

Turning about, Cry narrowed his eyes, praying to the Void that this was not simply a set up that he had idiotically thrown himself into. "I'm non-hostile." Ears swivelling, the Phantom was seriously trying to catch this ghost who had caught him off guard...but...

they were good.

the sound of a stranger’s voice was all that was heard by the elusive wildcat. his lightless yellow gaze peered through the brambles in search of his follower, and when he caught sight of the figure, he was capable of confirming that it was no one he knew. the brute was dark in coloration, but his eyes glimmered with a poison green toxicity. it mattered very little that tusk was alone; he was more than capable even as just one wild beast. his lean-limbed figure was taught with muscle and his mind ticked with the knowledge of how to use it to his advantage. there had not been a beast who had bested him yet, but that was because he picked his battles carefully.
 
the voice sounded once more, and the wildcat drew his ears forward to catch them. the dark figure claimed that he was not a hostile creature. this was either perfectly reasonable or entirely peculiar; the razorback could not decide. he thought that this was precisely something that a hostile individual would say in order to get their target to emerge from a hiding place. so, opting to keep himself safe and ahead of this oddity of a game, the cur emerged from behind his dark bramble bush with his head low and the jagged quills of fur standing along his neck and shoulders.
 
“but, what if i am?”

Cry had turned to catch nothing but echoes meeting his response to this fucked up scenario. As one would think a forest could allow sound to remain trapped, and be easily pinpointed, it was quite the opposite. And his opponent knew it. He was being precisely toyed with, scents becoming suffocating as he couldn't release his focus to try relocating where their source would be for fear of being caught off-guard, or even with his back turned for a slight second. It was an absolute disaster. 

But once given the gift of knowing, Cry had turned with accute honing as his target revealed themself from behind a scrawl of brambles. They had blended in completely, and Cry could appreciate them using the matching of dead colors to be their camoflauge. The response came out, and every single fleck of air that ommitted it was glinting with poisoned saliva, and it was punctuated with a heartstopping abrupt of mystery. Cry could handle the poison, knowing he could easily evade or engage, but the mystery was what set him rigid. That mystery was not knowing whether the foe in fact would take up on forcing him to engage or evade. 
But Cry had pessimism for that. He would assume this was going to be no easy matter to walk away from. 

And it didn't help that this anonymous soul had a way of reminding him of Slade, and his mindgames.

Narrowing a frigid winter gaze at this newfound wolf, the Assassin replied with solid resolve. "Then you will be put down, and destroyed." But his body however, remained neutral. No aggression not demonstration of arrogance from the older male, but the conviction was there. Cry had killed a plenty, but he hadn't sparred with anyone other than Grayson as of recently, and he would have potentially been rusty on his lethality skills. That rust would be enough to get him killed. Yet Cry was not simply a hitman...

He was an intellectual. 

"But we would be better off not killing each other, as Winter takes pity on none."

Lifting his chin only slightly, he regarded this beast. Damn, he looked feral. This man had the dexterity of a panther, fluidity beeing bound through every angled and sharp limb that stood seemingly ready to spring directly for him. This bastard was brazen, but biding, and Cry didn't know how long he would bide until he lashed out and started biting. Cry couldn't risk any injuries right now - the pack hadn't been formed yet, and the Family needed him to stay strong. To stay alive. 

the intellectual approach did very little to persuade the wildcat. he was hunched over with jagged furs standing like vicious spikes along his shoulders and back. his lightless yellow gaze searched for any sign of weakness from the man who was across from him. there was nothing that would stop him from acting out if that was what he wished. the words that came from the stranger were posed as though they should have inspired some deeper thought inside of the razorback cur. instead, he furrowed his brow at the other and snorted into the snow at his paws. he had not taken the words to be those of the wise, but instead seemed to match the tone of someone talking down to another. tusk was not the sort to simply take what was said to him. he drew his crown upward and fixed his lightless yellow gaze on the other male with a curling lip and a cant of his skull.

“i know well enough of pity to know that i'm in no need of it,” he remarked with a daring expression. he did not need it from the seasons or from the stranger in front of him. it wasn't a matter of pride as much as it was a matter of independence. tusk had done well enough on his own for that long – he did not know much about the others in the area. the wolf tulimaq had said that they were weaker than he would have liked. he spoke as though they had abandoned the beast within them a long time ago. the wildcat had only met one other who seemed to suit the life of a loner as well as he had. other than the mountaineer, there had been no others. perhaps the wolf had been right... there was little beast left in the wolves of that area.

with a calculating stare, tusk eyed the features of the stranger. “what is it that you want?” the cur then demanded with a gritted jaw.

Cry felt the smartass retort settle hot, sizzling over the glacier that Cry’s temper usually remained locked within. That glacier had withstood a many of heatwave responses from a many of others- he wouldn’t allow this wolf any leeway to rile him. Or so he told himself that. 

“Nothing. Since it seems you are well and capable, I bid you a peaceful farewell.” 

Cry knew an individual such as this was not capable of being around his girls. While he might be judging early, the assassin rather safer than sorry. And while he didn’t challenge this male, should there be violence, he would have to be ready. 
But he found himself at another impass- 
he couldn’t turn his back on this one. 

From the appearance of such, he felt predator vibes rolling off of this male in chaotic waves, and they threatened Cry enough to stay rooted. Atleast for this minute. Trying to offer an even more calming bridge between one wolf to another, the Phantom attempted to make an impromptu improvision. “Unless you’d like to find place in a pack.” 

Glacials kept in mind the peripherals, and he subtly deciphered the easiest vector to immerse himself in foliage as soon as possible. Or atleast some ground where he would be able to hear this catty man follow him.