Haunted Wood Hand in Hand

Set as sometime mid morning! The weather is neutral

The urge to meet all the members of this newfound pack has forced him to seek them all out an individuals. He wants to know their mannerisms, their thoughts on the pack currently, and most importantly gain their trust for the future. Building bridges is better than burning them after all. Santi isn’t stupid, he knows it’s better to have the pack adore, or at least like, him. Would be idiotic of him to make enemies with them.

He’s heard all their names and vague descriptions of as well. Now to match the names with the faces. He trots about the enrichment area, stalks around their dens looking for a certain she-wolf. @Vanity is her name, he believes. Then he sees a the black pelt off in the distance, the white mask and socks as well. That’s her then.

Sauntering up to the female with his usual deviously handsome smirk upon his maw he tips his chin up to her in a greeting. “Hola, niña.” He greets, his silver eye taking in her form and features. “You are the one called Vanity I’ve heard so much of, no?” He asks, rolling accent deep and playful.

Why were so many traveling from the south to the furthest north?
She thought she'd be safe here, but clearly not. No, she was stuck surrounded by all those from the south.
Could she trust them? Which one should she trust? She knew she could for Serem and Hashut...gosh she was having his children.

So naturally, when she heard the call of Hola she was already on edge. Though this was the new man that had already swooned Serem.
Her ears laid flat, turning herself to face him. He would know she's pregnant from the first look. Her eyes searched for an accomplice, someone who may want to see her lose her rank. Hela?

She was taking too long.
"Yes. But who are you?" Confirming her identity was a step.
Then the words registered, Who I've heard so much of.
"Where did you hear of me?"
It better have been from Serem. Or Hashut. He'd be close by, right? 
She had to be careful for now.

He already knows she’s on edge when the moment he speaks her ears go flat against her skull. It doesn’t deter him though, he’s met plenty of of just like that. Though, not stupid, he still treads carefully.

He tilts his head for only a moment and his smirk becomes softer. “I am Santiago Gabriel Arcos.” He rolls out expertly. “No need to fret, it’s all good of course. I’ve been told vaguely of everyone in the pack so far.” He tries to soothe as he can already tell the female has a hard edge with him already.

The pack. Surely that meant he was told from here, and not sent from the southern lands for her.
She rolled her shoulders, giving him a small nod. Barely noticeable.
"Well, it seems only fitting I've heard of you too." 
Yes, she'd pried some information about him from Serem the prior day.

Warily, she let herself relax. She couldn't hold onto fear or superstition too long, it would look bad for her. As Lietentient, she should be accepting and challenging, not cold and repelling. 
She inclined her head, inviting him to walk with her. 
"What trades are you aspiring for?" She almost begged for him to be a hunter. They needed more skilled hunters.

He smiles when she finally begins to relax. Unsure of exactly what’s gotten her so tense, or maybe she’s always like this. He has no clue. Yet he’s warm to welcome her and his eyes brighten up when she offers him to walk with her.

Then she asks him about the trades, he knows already what he’s going for. “Mercenary and hunter.” He states simply with a meager shrug of his shoulders, walking beside the smaller wolf.

Then he gazes down to her. “What has you so tense, amiga?”

He asked about why she was tense. So much could go wrong, yet so little could be done. She just had to hope the repulsiveness of the Nightwalkers would deter anyone from her presence.

"We are alike then," she mused. They had to have something in common to have the same pursuits in life. She kept him to her side. Walking behind would be too suspicious. She moved to walk her patrol route, the ground well worn and soggy underfoot.
"Where about do you come from?" She came from the heart of Mexico, but she only knew it as the southern lands, where if one looked hard enough on a clear day from the top of the Diablo Peak, one would see the glisten of the ocean from where her father was raised.

"Because where I come from," she continued after her question, "there are some who wish to kill me. And they would hunt me this far to get me." And Vanity had run out of land to run on. She knew where the ocean was, where she had to run to and take that plunge after stowing away her young somewhere where they would not be found. She just prayed that Hashut had genes that ran deeper and stronger than hers to cover the faces of her offspring.

She glanced to him, wondering what reaction she'd spot flicking across his face.

He follows her obediently, taking the desired path. Gazing down to the female at his side, he hums as she mentions them being alike. When she asks where he hails from he couldn’t say. The only place he’s ever heard of is the ring and the other places random street dogs would tell him about. “I don’t know really. Never had a name for it. I was too...” he squints thinking of a good way to explain the fact that he was too busy killing other animals to worry about that shit. “preoccupied to care really.”

Then, he looks to her, more intensely this time. “I’m sure the pack, myself included, would fight to the death if they came up this far to kill you, amiga.” He chuckles with a smirk. “No motherfucker is going to roll up in my home and kill my pack.” He eyes her shamelessly. “No worries, chica.” He soothes with a wink.

She smiled, a soft chuckle exhaling from her lips.
Men, more territorial than ever and more than ready to get any female they come across into their good books.
He was blatant in the fact he didn't take much care of where he was. Did he have a past with poppies? He seemed like the type.
"Then I'm guessing it wasn't much a place of beauty?" She knew where she came from. All her pack did, and they'd be damned if they forgot it. She watched him for a moment, wondering what shadows or lights wold pass through his eyes as she asked about his belonging. Though, she supposed if he didn't care, he didn't belong. 

"Though I'm glad for your enthusiasm to be here." God she was sounding like some elder warning a pup not to be a little shit. 
"What's on your ear anyway, I knew a wolf called Black Hat who wore some thorns on his head, fuckin weirdo, but that thing is unnatural I'd say."

She stopped, choosing to look at him for his answer properly. Then if she got a satisfying answer she'd look at the tracks she'd just spotted. Possibly a boar.

His home wasn’t one of beauty, no it was one of death. Then, if one thought the brutal death of dozens of others a day is beautiful, than to each their own. He never thought the place he was from was beautiful. No, it was gritty and disgusting. Not at all compared to the vast expanse of the great outdoors he has here. He doesn’t put much thought into it. Only whenever he thinks of the ring, a fire lights in his soul at the recall of all the hype and emotions he’s always felt. Or rather lack of emotions he supposes. It was horrible now that he thinks of it, but he wouldn’t take it back.

“No, it was horrible.” He chuckles easily back. It’s the only thing that seems to escape after all that mental reflection. “But I loved it.” He shrugs.

Then she stops properly as seems to be staring at the thing on his ear. A cock of his brow and an easygoing smile reach his face at her questioning. “Not sure. Two legs put it on me. I’m sure it means something to them though.”

Then he sighs indifferently. “My home was full of two legs. I was ruled by them. Then a different bunch of two legs took me. Ones that always tried touching me and would coo at me through the cages and shit. They gave me that then set me free.” His twin moons gaze to her, no real emotion hidden beneath them.

She'd never seen a two-legs. She knew of them though, they wore different furs that were not furry to make them look different. In fact, the only bit of fur they had was on their very top, which seemed very impractical. But the furs they wore must be for a reason and that must be to cover where the hair doesn't.
They often had things that would come and attack wolves, the louder was usually the better because most of the time they woke up. No, the quiet two-legs were the dangerous ones. 

"Weird. You escaped death, amigo."
Perhaps he is hunted like her, he just doesn't know it. Is he a bad omen? Is the Nightwalkers in danger because of him?
She'd have to keep a close eye on him.

“Not only that; I am lucky.” He hums casually. “I am comfortable where I’m at now. Grateful to be integrated with the pack. Even though I‘ve not done the best things in life.” He laughs. 

Then gazing down to the smaller. “Who knows, maybe karma will get me sooner or later.” 

She smirked, he seemed happy enough o be here.
She continued walking, expecting him to follow. "We're Nightwalkers, none of us have done everything right"

And if someone was going to get kerma, the entirety of Nightwalkers would be shunned for the misdeeds they have and will do.
She just hoped her children would be spared from her karma, they would be too pure to be punished for her actions. But she hoped what she said would put him at ease, but also stand as a warning.

Her socked paws continue onwards and he obediently follows closely behind. Laughing lightly at the smile she gives him he shakes his head. “Don’t mean to be sappy. I know it’s disgusting.” He chuckles.

He’s eyes take over the females fine coat, the black shining in the light looking sleek and fits her well. Her white mask is most interesting, something he catches himself eyeing often. Though no matter if she want to appear cute or not, the socks that adorn her feet complete it. They give her the cute factor he’s talking about. 

“Where do you lead me, amiga?” He asks a playful lilt in his voice.

So he didn't care much for sympathy or comforts. Perhaps he was a bit defensive still, being in a new pack and all.
Or he just didn't care for anything considered affection. She could destroy him with that knowledge.

He still followed though she could be taking him straight to his death. No, he was a packmate and she would have to accept that, he knew it. Besides, Vanity had some semblance of loyalty to a pack, though not too often her mates. Hashut would be different though, she's bearing his children. She frowned at herself, knowing she should be better than this.

His question broke her fleeting thoughts.
"The pit." She replied in her native tongue. 
She hoped he'd be the type to bring something in it for her to play with.

The words that left her lips intrigued him. “Ooh, the pit.” He parrots. “Interesante.” He chuckles back. 

Continuing on his path beside her he tilts his head. “What does the pack use the pit for?” He wonders aloud to the female.

She smirked, assuming that he'd not known of the pit before this. 
He seemed flippant about it, like he was taking it as some sort of warning. Or was she just thinking about it too much. 

"Prisoners. Of course they have to be incapacitated in some way, though poppies or some injury." 
She assessed the trees, a few with the bark scratched from it. Vengeances markings. She knew the pit often loomed without notice to swallow you up, so she hoped she would see it and maybe trick Santi into falling in. Though he was pretty alert. 

Here comes the bait for ya. Feel free to push him in ;)

The trees separate to make room for the rock formation that is the pit. His eyes run further and further into the open cavern as he comes to stand beside it. Paws hit rock and claws tip tap on the surface as he walks along the edge of the cage.

“Huh. I assume you guys used to have a good amount of prisoners?” He asks just above a murmur.

Eyes only turning to gaze at the female wolf for a seconds before looking back down to the rocky formation that so catches his eye.

He tiptoed along the edge, so, so temptingly.
If she wanted, she could charge at him and push him in. She could then follow him like a cascading waterfall and snap his legs.

She lowered her head, her eyes looking up at him carefully.
"We've had a number. Serem's sister, an Easthollow boy, some Moonspear guy." The pit had a fair share of stories to tell. 
And many more will ensue.
She didn't care if she was pregnant, she would still make threats like there was no tomorrow.

"If you disrespect me or my pack, I will break your legs and put you in there until you slowly die, being taunted by the crows." She stared levelly at him, waiting for him to take her as a serious threat. But only if he fucked up.

She wondered what things would be like if she still had the Moonspear guy here instead of Hashut.

Craning his neck over to gaze to the raven female, she watches him through her lashes menacingly. A brow raises at the body language, then his suspicions are confirmed when she’s begins to speak.

A challenging smirk crossed his maw. “I do not doubt you, amiga.” He stops of the ledge and goes to stand closer. “I will make this pack better.” His tone is confident, bordering on cocky.

She tilted her head slightly, lessening her death-promising glare.
He was either cocky or stupid to stand there still. Anyone who knew of her wrath would have moved away from the edge, at least a little bit.

But he took heed to her warnings, at least a little. Or he might have some mild amount of respect for her, she wasn't sure.
"You should hope so," because if he started pulling some shit, Vanity would hunt him like he were just a fox.

But in the back of her mind, that thought still lingered about Revui. She never knew his name, just his face, and his warmth. She would think he was a gentler soul than Vengeance but has fire like her. Would she be bearing his children instead if he stayed?

"Come, I'll show you more," she continued, her heavy mood vanishing. He was a cocky, almost insufferable ass, but she wasn't about to spar. She'd been limiting her fighting for a hot minute.

Wanna fade here? Idm if we continue or not

Yes I’d be down for a fade. I’d also be down to have them spar if you’d like ;>

Santi nods curtly at her and notices that she seems to have something caught in her mind. Perhaps he could help her take her mind off of things. He continues walking beside her, then gazes over at her cautiously, hoping she wouldn’t wrap her jaws around him just due to his very presence. 

“You seem hostile, chica. Want to take it out on me in a spar?” He asks with a quirk if a brow.

He offered her a spar, and she wasn't really one to turn down the offer. But, y'know, she was pregnant. She didn't fancy losing a spar and having the gateways opened for her rank because of it. And he would be qualified to take it.

"Once I'm no longer carrying these about," she gestured to her swollen stomach. He'd understand, and if he didn't Hashut would chew him out. Or up. 
"I'm only like this because I don't want to lose them," though she'd still provide for the pack. There were new young already this year, and as much as she wanted them, her pups would come second to starvation.

"I'll catch you another time for the spar," she promised, and continued on, not too bothered if he followed her for the tour or not.

I can set up a spar thread, I'll let you close in case you want to post again