Ankyra Sound schadenfreude

He had lingered around the bay for a little while longer. Long enough to experience the schadenfreude that was their demise. The pack had dispersed, and Kaertok had felt a smug sense of satisfaction in that knowledge. He had pissed on their former border markings as a final goodbye, then he traveled north along the coast. That is, until he was met with more territorial markings.

He stopped there, nose to the sand, wondering what this pack was like. Thus far, he had not seen anything that impressed him enough to keep him around. Maybe this one would be different, but he doubted it. Kaertok was a proud, arrogant wolf, and he felt like nothing he came across was good enough for him.

Raleska watched the Tartok male for some time before approaching him. She had learned from her mother to measure wolves, strangers particularly, carefully — and one of the best ways to do so was by watching their actions undetected. She surmised him to be in good health; he was bordering large, and had a look about him Raleska estimated was restless.

Adopting the posture of a wolf ready to defend their territory, Raleska made herself known by sauntering towards the brute at a loose gait. She had already intercepted a loner once this week, and she wondered if he was somehow connected. He was certainly cleaner than Vengeance was, though his hygiene afforded him no warmth from the Eyjolfur girl. Can I help you? Raleska queried, resting her sharp gaze on the man expectantly.

A female arrived to greet him, and for whatever reason, she captured Kaertok's attention in a way he hadn't been prepared for. In a way that few had captured his attention, although she certainly wasn't the first to do so. Kaertok straightened himself a smidge, licked his lips, and then he replied. What is the name of this place? And what sort of wolves live here? the Tartok wolf inquired. If she was going to ask him how she could help, he wasn't going to beat around the bush.

Silently, he wondered if she was of age and what her place was here. Perhaps that was a better route to go, rather than trying to find a pack that suited him, he should try and find a partner that suited him. Judging solely on appearance, she suited him, and he made no effort to conceal his wandering eyes.

Once the male was made aware of Raleska’s presence, he seemed to shift. Raleska watched as he straightened up his form, passing a darting tongue across his lips before uttering a query about their realm. Unlike Vengeance, this man seemed interested in learning rather than being interrogated— Raleska’s tail reclined slightly, for she felt much more at ease when a wolf made their ambitions plain. 

Speaking of ambitions, Raleska did not miss the way the white stranger’s eyes roved across her frame. To be measured in such a manner was unusual for her, but she did not shirk or wither under his gaze. Raleska was proud of her appearance, and assured —perhaps a bit arrogantly, she assumed most wolves would find her visually appealing, and if they didn’t, she did not care. 

This is Rusalka. Many sorts live here, but most of us are warriors. Raleska was not about to reveal that it was also home to several mothers at the moment; given their fighting roots, she surmised it was okay to brand her pack as a band of fighters. She quickly shifted the focus to Kaertok, measuring him with the cold bite of her yellow eyes. She had answered his questions — now it was time for him to do the same.  What sort of wolf are you?

Warriors. That made his lip pull back in a small smile. Tartoks had always been known for their mercenary skills, and Sungiwok was no different. The name also reminded him of home, although he couldn't say why. When she asked what sort of wolf he was, he wasted no time replying. A warrior, a pause, and a scout. Those were the two things he had trained for with Tartok, and by that virtue they were the things he was best at. Sure, he could hunt. Sure, he could strategize. But deep down, Kaertok had always been a fighter and an explorer.

Do you rule here? A question for a question seemed to be the name of the game. Already, he was formulating a follow-up for that, depending on her answer.

Once Raleska mentioned warriors, the strangers features seemed to discretely soften, the edges of his black gums tapering to a tiny smile. Raleska let him know her sharp eyes missed nothing by squinting briefly, though her gaze lightened once she caught the impressions of a game in his tone. 

Was she the leader? Regrettably not. No, She shook her head, though her posture did not slacken. I am the leader’s daughter. It carried weight and she knew it, but Raleska was no simpering ruler’s child — she worked hard as any, and carried her weight with pride. Where were you a warrior? The girl hoped his answer would not be Drageda — the threat that was all together gone, but still present in her mind.

She was observant, he noticed, being an observer himself. She was also born in the shadow of a leader (or so he presumed) like himself, which he could relate to quite well. Kaertok had spent much of his life serving as second-in-command. Out of all the wolves he had met here so far, he liked this one the most. He hadn't realized how much he had missed that connection to somebody, and he knew they were only just scratching the surface.

Tartok, he replied, I, too, was born to leaders. Iqniq and Tonravik had instilled in their children all things Tartok, and Kaertok had never strayed from those ideals. He had always respected his place below them, and he knew they wouldn't have tolerated anything else. He assumed her parents were the same, but a part of him wondered if that wasn't the case. She had that air about her that screamed "leader" to Malrok, but perhaps she hadn't grasped that just yet.

And your name? he asked, this time a personal question, rather than one about the pack.

The man offered a name that, to Raleska, carried great gravitas with it. Had she been her mother, she would have recognized the surname immediately — but Raleska was a sweet summer child, and so, was blithe to the ominous memories behind that name. She offered a brief, almost curt smile — it was a name that was rough and rolled of the tongue sharply. Raleska approved. 

This bantering game they played was rather thrilling to Raleska, who had yet to meet many wolves that challenged her. The revelation he too was born of leaders earned him an apprising quirk of a brow; Raleska approved of that, too. 

He asked after her name, and the Eyjfolfur was not bashful. Raleska. She stated it simply, peering at Tartok with piqued interest before asking with no qualms whatsoever: Interested?

In so few movements, she showed her recognition of the name, and he almost believed that she enjoyed it. When she answered with her name, he very nearly thought she had repeated the name of the pack, but after a split-second, he realized some of the syllables were not quite the same. It seemed whoever her parents were thought quite highly of her if they named her after the pack (or vice versa, although Kaertok believed she had been born and raised here).

Very, he replied, although what he was interested in was left up to her to judge. In either case, he didn't much like the idea of leaving anytime soon. My name is Kaertok, he added, since the exchange seemed fair enough and his questions had been answered.

It had never occurred to Raleska how similar Rusalka was to her name until that moment; it stirred a puff of hair under her coat, signifying her pride to be so similar. Perhaps her mother had great expectations or hopes -- or perhaps, she simply liked names that started with R's and ended with A's.

His name also bore a similarity to his homestead. Raleska wondered if it was deliberate, alongside her own - perhaps it was the custom of his people to assume the delightfully barbaric tok in homage to their roots. "Consider yourself Rusalkan, now, Kaertok." Raleska replied somberly, taking great delight in being Rusalka's guardian slash ambassador. "I will show you The Grotto, this way." She stepped forward, making towards the strand at a slow walk that invited conversation should he wish to partake.

And just like that, Kaertok pledged himself to Rusalka. Or rather, he pledged himself to Raleska. The others would have to earn his loyalty one-by-one, including her parents who ruled here. If Kaertok found them unfit, well... we'll see about that. One thing at a time.

He walked with her, matching her pace with her in the lead.