Cedar Sweep Captain Marvelous
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@Jean-Pierre 

It was day two, since Maia had left, and Wraen, who felt awfully lonely, was keeping a count. There was life before and life now, whether in the present of reminiscing about the good days of the past, she could not find solace in either place. She thought about talking to someone, after all the packmates were her friends and all. She could trust them, right? But one by one they were striked off the list of suitable candidates. Eljay was miserable already, Finley, Elwood, Colt and Niamh had their hands full of children and... that was it. 

Therefore Wraen took her personal rain cloud and went to feel apathetic and dejected far away from everyone. She chose Cedar sweep for that purpose and after some searching, settled on a river-bank and let quiet tears run down her cheeks. This was another low, when she had almost believed that it could not get any worse.
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Jean-Pierre hates it here.

Sure, the view is gorgeous, but the amount of flies that bog down the place? Ugh. Summer sucks sometimes.

His teeth click together in a fruitless attempt to snap an irritating fly out of the air. Part of him wishes he stayed back in the Strath after all. There it's nice enough, and he would never have to lift a muscle again.

But he knows he should at least try pretending to care about the whole scout thing.

Jean-Pierre hates emotions. He hates feeling guilty about joining a pack when he knows he's just gonna fail again. Man, he sure is hating a lot today.

Shit, he swears under his breath, freezing at the sight of another wolf down the road from him. It's a woman, and he feels the urge to turn the other way, but the beige wolfdog stops when he notices her crying.

Jean-Pierre can't ignore it, so he ends up approaching a bit reluctantly.

You too, huh? What's knocked you down?
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Wraen had not expected anyone to find her here, especially, since she had come this far to be away from people. But in that case a bog or a swamp would have been better choices for that purpose. And she had dismissed both because of abundance of flies there compared to the tolerable number here.

She wiped her eyes and pushed herself up to a sitting position. There was a brief moment during which she regarded the odd-looking stranger and made a decision, whether she wanted to converse with him or simply tell him to bugger off. The latter did not seem a very wise option, considering their difference in size and the possibility that she would not be able to outrun him, in case he got angry. So - the first - as much as she wanted to be alone - she had to be polite at least.

"Nothing particular," she lied smoothly, though her general miserable appearance gave her away. "Who are you?"
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It is irritating, but he understands not wanting to open up the floodgates to a stranger. Jean-Pierre wouldn't, even if he looked as terrible as the woman before him.

Mhmm, just a bad day then? The small wolfdog gives a shrug of his shoulders. Everyone has those so it's an easy way to dismiss it if she wants.

Red eyes flicker to glare at the flies again, hating anywhere with an abundance of water really, even if the stuff was nice on a hot day it attracted too many bugs too. He's lucky he's never dealt with a swamp before.

Jean-Pierre, of Asterism Grove. You? It feels weird to say he's a part of a pack out loud, but it shows he has back up in case things turned south.
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"Just a bad day," Wraen nodded in agreement, happy that the guy has good manners of not pressing any further for the reasons of her crying. It was embarrassing as it was already to feel the way she did for her sister's leaving, it would be even worse to tell someone about her petty and selfish reasons for not wishing her to go anywhere. Self-pitying included.

"Wraen from Firebirds," she gave her name as well. There had been a recent visit from the Asterism Grove. She had not taken part in it, but it was a general knowledge that this was yet another sister pack. "Are you one of the vast Redhawk relatives that I know nothing about?" she asked out of curiousity. Her uncle Peregrine had had many children after all and she had met... what was it - only half a dozen of them?
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Wraen of the Firebirds.

There was mention of the sister packs at one point to Jean-Pierre. Another reason why he wonders what exactly he got himself into. It seems like a huge family splintered into various packs dotting across the Hinterlands.

I'm afraid not. Maybe it would have been better if he was. I am new to the area... How many Redhawks are there? A lot, obviously, but he is curious if there has been a headcount.
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"I have no idea, to be honest," Wraen shrugged and, as she tried to count the relatives she already had met in her life, the painful thoughts about Maia's departure, were put on the shelf for the time being. Her mind loved to solve problems at any time, any moment. So... it had been Gannet, Towhee, Titmouse, Wildfire, Raven, Phox. She was unsure, where did Blackthorns came in the game, whether they were related or just friends. And then there was the thing about Wildfire having many children as well and... it got very complex, when you began to think more about it.

"Plenty. I have six cousins that I know of - there are more - and then they have children and before long their children will have children - awful lot," she shook her head. "One of the reasons they are happy about any fresh blood in the ranks," she grinned. "How did you come here?"
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So basically a giant army of them. Well, Jean-Pierre is thankful he's on their side, that's for sure. It does make him nervous though. If he manages to piss them off, how many Redhawks will be wanting to make his life miserable? Jokes on them, his life already is.

Damn, they've been busy, he comments. Red eyes widening a tad to show his disbelief. Maybe he ought to bother Towhee or Phox one day for details.

Well, long story short, I got stuck on a mountain during a bad storm and a man named Leen came to my rescue. He was out there recruiting for the pack, and charmed me into joining. Reminds Jean-Pierre to ask him later why he traveled so far out to do so. The journey to the Strath took many days.
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Wraen chuckled at his remark. It was a naughty little laugh. Oh, yeah. They had been busy, no doubt about that. She had never thought of world domination that way, but all you needed to begin with was a pair of wolves, who were bored and nothing else to do. And few years later - you are here, having occupied most of a valley. 

"And... has it paid off? Being charmed into a pack?" she asked, canting her head to the side.
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Jean-Pierre smirks, amused that his implications paid off since she seemed just as entertained by it. And it seems like their army shows no signs of stopping, with Phox having his kids and all.

This confidence falters, however, when she throws him an unexpected question. Ugh.

So far, it's been a nice experience, the beige wolfdog gives a half-truth. Everyone's pretty chill.

How's it like with the Firebirds?
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Wraen did not know much about the new sister-pack, aside from the fact that two of her cousins were the leaders and that they had stemmed from Redhawks. Whether they had taken the "if you leave, then you are a traitor" policy with them, was a mystery for now. You could not decipher much from "things are chill" comment.

"Fine. We've got an army of children at the moment. I have a feeling that they outnumber us," she said and the fact was true, even if she had not counted herself. With Maia gone there were 6 adults and 8 little furballs. "What is the long story - how did you get on that mountain in the first place?" she returned to an earlier mention of "how"s and "when"s.
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An army of children?

Terrifying. Better keep a close eye on them or next thing you know, they're running a coup. He jokes, giving a smirk to further express his amusement of the situation. It is hilarious imagining a horde of puppies attempting to take over a pack. Otherwise, Jean-Pierre is thankful he only has to tolerate two.

Nuh-uh, no you don't. The long story unlocks on date number three. The beige wolfdog teases. In truth, no one needs to know his life story and the reason why he was upon a mountain in the middle of nowhere.
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Wraen gradually warmed up to the guy - he had a sense of humour, was easy to talk to and this was just the kind of distraction she needed. "Oh, some of them have a great promise of becoming coup leaders already," she responded, thinking about Pox in particular. The little guy would not be stopped by a concrete wall, radioactive waste-land, oceans or erupting volcanoes, if he had something in mind to do.

"Oh, so this is a date," Wraen noted, meditated on this a little and found that she was fine with it. Yet another adventure to tell Maia, when... her face fell, of course, she was not here. But, whenever she returned. "Alright... um, I have heard that you are supposed to impress the girl with something. Be it flowers, eloquent mind, physical power etc... so, which one are you - brawn or a brain?" she asked, canting her head to the side and smiling.

Wraen flirted with the guy shamelessly for the next half an hour or so, enjoying her immensely. And in a good mood went home. Only in the evening, did she shed a tear, because she realized that this was another wonderful story that Maia was not going to hear.