Whitefish River oathkeeper

It was easy enough to avoid the coast, even if the sea called to him in the form of gull song. The mineral rich taste of the air was not the siren song it once had been; nor was the sight of black waves as enticing.

He drifted.

This black shadow, once swaggering with a king's guise, now weighed down by a grim aura. The hitch in the man's step was the only difference as he prowled along - one old injury of many, the kind that acted up when the weather turned sour. The sky was clear now; a pale egg blue unmarred by clouds, warm summer air pressing in on all sides. In the distance (over the sea where he refused to look) were bands of darkness, encroaching. That ache in his hip would grow as the storm gathered, slowing him, hindering if he let it. The wanderer felt a particularly sharp twang of electric pain deep down in the bone, and grimaced - but he persisted all the same.

There was nothing else he could do, and nowhere to go. Eventually a river transected his path; the shadow perused the area with a sweep of his dulled vision, and opted for a direction. It would not take long before the scents of other wolves filled his senses. The warrior did not seem bothered by them - if anything, it was almost like he sought them out on purpose. Perhaps the wanderer had finally reached his limit and now required solace, versus solitude.

The sight of the scarred male made his own marred throat itch, and it was only when he approached further and got a better look did the memories return, and he realized why.

What the fuck are you doing here, Verx said, voice too flat to hold even the ghost of inquiry. The leaders of Kaistleoki probably wouldn't like him accosting a guest, but he didn't give a shit. It was too easy to picture Caiaphas by this man's side.

You better have a good reason, and quick, he added. Goddamn it, his kids were here. He couldn't have this Rusalkan trash around his kids.

(But then again, when he led, this man hadn't been there. Had they driven him out, too? Whole fucking Sound was toxic.)

What the fuck are you doing here, called a vaguely familiar voice; not the wind, not the sea demanding his return, but a wolf lingering on the other side of the scented corridor. The wanderer's good eye, blue like the emptiness overhead, drew across the stranger's face. If there was recognition it did not register on the man's stern features. He stopped walking, letting a sense of calm settle awkwardly between them (although it did not last).

You better have a good reason - started the scarred guardian.
This was going to be my home once. Firefly drawled, cutting through the warning. With a lethargic shift of his attention to the forest around them, the familiar trees, the unfamiliar trails, he continued a moment later. Guess someone beat me to it. A soft huff exhaled from his nose, and the shadow lets the thought of what could've been drift away. He holds no grudges.

But perhaps this warrior does? He looks to Vercingetorix after a beat, and adds: I'm looking for a place to live. There room here? Or, perhaps their warring egos would get in the way of that.

She had been on one of her patrols when the Constable heard the commotion. At first, all had been calm, but the voice of two traveled through the air. One she recognized as Vercingetorix, the father that had sought out his broken child with the fury of a bear. Ira traveled closer in an attempt to catch the words he was exchanging.

"What the fuck are you doing here"

Her eyes caught the scarred male at their borders and a frown tugged at her lips. Was this the way he greeted strangers? She was not welcoming to those who seek to trespass, but she did avoid profanity when addressing newcomers. Ira listened a moment longer as she stepped forward to make her presence known. You seek refuge? She glanced to Verc in hopes of an explanation for his harsh words.

Do you know this man, Vercingetorix?

Vercingetorix gave him a thoroughly nasty glare as the other man cut him off, making a remark about how this was gonna be his home and yadda yadda yadda -- like he gave a shit. He was about to answer the man's question when Ira appeared, questioning him.

Ira was a snoozefest, he thought. One of those blindly loyal drones, cold, emotionless. (Would have done well under Stigmata, actually.) But she was his superior, and so he lowered his posture in deference, nodding toward the quasi-stranger.

He was with the woman who did this to me, Verx explained, lifting his chin slightly to show her the extent of his throat scarring. Didn't join in, but, yeah. Any friend of hers is no friend of mine. Also, she killed a kid.

Couldn't forget that delicious little detail.

You seek refuge? Spoke a new voice - ambiguous, but with more control to their tone than the scarred man. Firefly glimpses the approaching figure and trains his attention upon them; however, it doesn't take long before an explanation rises to his ears. 

He lets the man finish. There hadn't been a concrete connection in Firefly's brain until the moment where he saw that scar curving the man's throat; he remembers the struggle of his own body against the pale man, and then his mind drifts to the memory of the island... The beach, where sinful things unfolded. Then, he hears the bit about killing a kid and is brought back to reality.

Firefly's features are grim, but he clarifies: I know nothing about killing children. I haven't seen the old woman for a long time, he can't remember how long exactly, although the thought of the sea leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Rather than travel down memory lane he focuses again on Ira and states, I'm seeking a fresh start. I can hunt and fight, if you need a body for such things.

And if they didn't, no harm done. He could find somewhere else.

The words Vercingetorix spoke would make any wolf's blood boil, but there was one factor here stopping her from running the stranger off now. It was not his actions. She knew not of what transpired before, but he should not be the one to blame of a child's death, nor the would Vercingetorix adorned. As he said himself, he did not join in.

A man is not better for only watching, but she could give him the benefit of the doubt. If Firefly's words were true, he would be just like the other wolves that came to Kaistleoki. The silence stretched out as the constable's golden gaze locked on the scarred newcomer. Should she pass judgment for something he did not directly do, or give him the chance he sought. In all honesty, if it was her alone, she likely would not have thought twice, but she knew Evergreen. Ira could keep an eye on him until he proved himself.

We are a pack of new beginnings. What Vercingetorix speaks of is troubling, but if you truly are not with the one who led such attacks I will let you stay. Her steady gaze moved to the male beside her, how would Verc react? In the end, it mattered not, it was her call. If his hate for this wolf was strong enough he too would keep an eye on this man. We are a trade structured pack, there are many opportunities for someone with your skillset. I have but one request should you join our ranks and that is you avoid our medic speedy and Vercingetorix's family. Only until we can trust you around our pups. Perhaps that request would bring some sort of middle ground for the father. She did not want him to think she did not hear him.

Hmmph, Verx said dubiously, giving the man a jaundiced look. He glanced at Ira, nodding as she made the call for the man to stay away from his kids. He supposed that if the Constable was dead set on this being a place of "new beginnings," and this guy really were to stay here, that was the most he could ask for.

Seriously, if I see you so much as look at my kids, I'll rip your cock off and stuff it down your throat, he said, returning his icy stare to the former Rusalkan. Ambassadorship, shmambassadorship. Ira would probably be mad at his impunity, but whatever. The kids' safety came first. He didn't really care about hurting anybody's feelies.

Feeling his work here was done, he spun on his heel and walked off without so much as a second glance back. Fucking hell, couldn't he escape his past for one goddamn minute?

The woman gave him the benefit of the doubt, which was a testament to her sex and something Firefly found unsuitably gratifying. He enjoyed watching the roughshod warrior have his opposition crushed, and when he rebutted with a warning all that Firefly could do was scoff and stare at the retreating figure - his blue eyes focusing a little too long on the man's rear end, not that Firefly was aware of his wandering fixation.

He looked to Ira when they were finally alone together and put on the best smile he could muster; but even then, it wasn't the most charming of masks, what with all his scars. I will do my best to stay far away from them. Kids really aren't my thing in the first place. If that's all it took to win the good favor of the wolves living here, he was content.

I'll familiarize myself with your claim - and get to work. He would wait for dismissal, and then move along.

short to wrap up

Ira simply flicked her ear at the male's threat. If she had kids of her own, perhaps she would react the same, but alas she does not. If Firefly strayed from the pups like he said there would be no trouble, and if he did, she would personally deal with the conflict. Very well. She gave a short dip of her head dismissing the male. If you need any questions answered, feel free to seek me out.