Broken Antler Fen walking on glass

The smell of a pack. Not one that held Raleska's scent or anybody else he recognized, but one that would do for the time being. Winter was not quite as harsh here as it was in the north, but it was just as deadly, and Kaertok knew he couldn't go living by himself forever. The white wolf settled down onto his haunches, tilted his head back, and howled. If this pack was worth its salt, somebody would come to greet him. If not, he'd find another that was worthy.

Courtesy her being in the neighborhood of these borderlands out on her patrols, she came towards the white-coasted wolf really not that long after his summons had risen. Hearing his howl had quickened her steps just enough, and now, unsurprisingly, it seemed she found him first. She came towards him with self-confidence in her steps, and a upturned tail--just a little, though--to last until her brother or their worlida  perhaps arrived.

Anyway: Hei, stranger. she greeted him with a nod to go with it, preceding the look over she gave him unabashed. She definitely couldn't say she recognized him any, though, and neither did she know his purpose in visiting them. Lately, there was not a lot of traffic down here on her circuits; so, hard to tell what to expect precisely. Why did you call? she asked to find out.

The wolf who greeted him was a creamy color with vibrant eyes, though the latter didn't match. He had come across that before, or he would have been more curious about it. A strange defect, but nothing to be worried about, and Kaertok certainly wasn't superstitious about such things. She arrived with confidence and made no effort to hide her gaze on him.

I wish to know about your pack in the interest of joining it, he replied. My name is Kaertok Tartok.

her opkepa has beaten her to the stranger at their borders, but praimfaya is not too terribly far behind. her path takes her from the heart of their fen to where she adds a fortunately plump groundhog to one of their food caches. they are bare of big game ...but they have been since roangeda was nothing but a few of them. they are still few and the departure of catalina and pool has not gone unnoticed. the worlida feels only disappointment for those who have left them and will decide when — if — they return how to deal with it.

for now, she tucks it away as she nears the scene, frostbound gaze touching upon opalia first before it locks upon the stranger that introduces himself as kaertok tartok. it is a bit of a mouthful, praimfaya thinks, but the same could easily be said about her own. we are a kru. a clan. praimfaya commandeers control of the conversation as she moves to opalia's side. we look out for and take care of our own. if a wolf is an enemy of one kru they are an enemy to all of roankru. caiaphas flashes in her mind's eye but she lets the image go and fade away like a wisp.

i am praimfaya, worlida of roangeda. she introduces, making it clear with the imperious raise of her chin that she is the one that needs to be impressed, unwilling to let herself be cowed because of her tender age. she may be the child leader but her soul is so much older than her physical body and, she thinks, she has seen awful things. things that stole away her innocence like a brazen thief. what can you bring to roangeda, kaertok tartok? praimfaya asks, providing her sticks around for her to ask.

First, she twisted back an ear, though he had her focus as he answered as a potential joiner--which was good, new faces of worthwhile mettle could do them a lot of good, she believed, famine considered too (and he didn't look too rough for the wear either). Maybe now more than ever, so she considered this with a tentative hint of hope. That was about when Praimfaya slid to her side, and she gave a deferential nod to such company as hers, yielding subtly, but true. It was her explanation that was clear, and Opalia watched him still as she listened, waiting to see what he thought about that much so far.

She debated sliding in her own introduction so soon, but instead, it seemed to fit better for the worlida to take the center stage at this very moment; Opalia was very clearly a support role then, on guard, and she would say her piece to add on again eventually--if he was going to make himself worth the effort, that was.

u can skip her if needed btw, i'll hop back in here and there probably but don't wait on me

Before the stranger had a chance to respond, they were greeted by a younger wolf. She wasn't filled out like her counterpart, leading Kaertok to believe she hadn't yet reached a year old. She acted as though she was a leader, and he shot the older wolf a quick glance. There were plenty of foreign words she speckled throughout her speech, though Kaertok was able to glean most of their meanings from the context around them.

I am a seasoned scout and guardian, he replied. What role do you fill as Worlida? Sungiwok then asked. The other wolf hadn't spoken, and she seemed to defer to the younger one.

though opalia is acknowledged with a small nod of praimfaya's head, the commander-to-be focuses her gaze and attention upon the stranger at their borders; ears cupping forth as he responds to her question. a seasoned scout and guardian. skills that would be useful to roangeda, praimfaya cannot deny. he looks stalwart enough, and she doesn't smell any sign of sickness upon him; also good things in her book.

he returns with a question of his own, and she rises her chin slightly, partially offended at the question. she's not used to having her authority questioned ...even if it comes across as subtle; and maybe that's not what he means but it is how she interprets it all the same.

my people do not ...operate like most do in these wilds. we have a belief that single born pups are born to be our leaders, the commander. my position as worlida is training me for my ascension to the rank of wanheda. the commander. of death. when i come of age and my mentor who serves as my second, my klikalida, how easily she forgets to translate the names of their ranks for those who do not speak trig. decides that i am ready.

they are loyal to me and i, to them. they are mine and i am theirs, she thinks. they are all i have. does that sound like something you can live with? she asks him.

He listened, respectfully so. It was a curious tradition indeed. And not one he would be taking part in. She was a child, and she should not have authority over others, no matter her destiny. Tartok wolves were born and bred to follow the strongest, and he could not bring himself to follow a child, no matter how strong or worthy she may be.

No, he replied simply. I do have one other question, though. I am searching for three wolves. Isi, a young one, maybe your age; Sugar Glider, a wolf with a pink nose and stripes; and Raleska, a wolf who once ran with Rusalka.

no.

praimfaya would've summed it up as 'then, we're not for you' but the audacity to ask them questions after bluntly stating he could not live with following her — despite that he is not the first — causes the worlida to spare him a look that borderlines incredulity. though he mentions isi — her bloodkru — she will not offer him any information, nevermind that she wished she knew what happened to isi.

you refuse to follow me and yet you ask me for information? she rumbles with a low, mirthless laugh. how ironic. get out of my sight. the wanheda speaks; though this was not her first incident with being rejected as a viable leader because of her age the question smarts her and she is not feeling generous, especially not at the mention of rusalka.

He didn't blame her for her rejection, nor did he take it personally. Kaertok had figured it wouldn't hurt to ask, and he had been correct. To see her react so suddenly was expected for a girl her age, and it only confirmed his suspicions about her. She was young and had much to learn. Perhaps it worked for the wolves of this pack, but it would not for a Tartok.

Very well. He glanced at the older wolf once more, then turned away. Sungiwok would have to seek shelter in another pack. One more suitable for him.

Hope was dashed before it could truly take any root. Opalia's interest hardened into scrutiny soon enough, for it wasn't immediately obvious to her what it was Kaertok took his real issue with but figured it was something in the whole presentation here, from personalities to pack. She knew what it looked like, though, but nothing else had even taken her and Dacio this far in months; this was the last semblance of the traditions they were born to around this stretch of wilderness, too.

Her irritation flickered to life, then was stoked by any mention of Rusalka--even if the hint about an Isi didn't sit well with her either, highly suspect. Praimfaya's grumble spoke its volumes to the yearling, and she was keenly listening for signs of more as she prepared to side with the worlida's protection immediately. Her hackles rose up with her next exhale, but Opalia kept her fury carefully reined in. He didn't deserve even that much information, not for this and unless came any other order from her leader for more, she was silent, and offered a small flash of her teeth-tips.

He was on his way on his own accord next, though, going with it her own step forward to pressure him on out the rest of the way. They needed loyal, strong wolves... but he would find no place among theirs today, so he had best make his leave brief.