Bearclaw Valley Ye'll tak' the high road, and I'll tak' the low road,

AW but @Revui, perhaps? <3 dated for like Wednesday 4/15

There was a rhythm to this place, a primal schedule that marked each day. Very different from what he'd known with his human masters—and, yet, not so much at all. Learning to procure his own food had been a struggle at first, but Fraser was growing as a hunter. And the wolves, while not as kind, were certainly easier to comprehend than the two-legs. He spoke the language of the land here.

The deerhound had acquired a sort of prowl, low-bellied and subservient, but still different from the loose, carefree walk of his past. Today, he had been following game trails to no avail, stumbling too quickly upon warrens and watching the rabbits flee. He could perhaps catch them, true. . .but he wanted to know the secret of stealth. He stood near the western edge of the valley, the spring wind whistling through his wiry hair.

Survival was possible. He knew that, now. Going forward, Fraser wanted to thrive.

One of the key components to survival was an appropriate food supply, which was one of Revui's strongest motivations, so it was not surprising that he was also touring the area on the lookout for an easy meal. There was a lot of territory here; more than the spire of his birth. At least with Moonspear there were obvious routes that one had to take, and he had known those paths well. Here, everything was so open. It was freeing in a sense, but also overwhelming. Too much to see and too much to protect, he thought. For now though he would focus on food - it was easier that way.

The wind pulsed across an arid section of grass where Revui stood poised, and his reaction was akin to a double-take. The scent he picked up most was wolf to enough degree for him to be initially dismissive, but there was something wrong with it, too. Was one of Merrick's people sick, already? He wasn't motivated enough to find out; he was no healer, despite his many dealings with herbalists (in fact, the thought of seeking out something to aid the scent-bearer brought to mind Kukutux, which soured him further) and he was not the person to call when in need of such things.

All the same, his trail flowed through the valley towards the scent. It grew stronger the further west he tread, but when Revui passed in to a declining patch of forest he lost the trail; there were stronger scents of rabbit and springtime fowl of some kind, and he was briefly distracted - forking from his path to pursue these.

Unknown to Revui, Fraser was now beginning to follow these same trails. The fowl in particular sent his mouth watering, saliva spilling over his gums as he prowled along. Soon enough, however, the scent was joined by another, clearly canine scent. The gargantuan wolf came into view, and the deerhound's hackles rose slightly, immediately on the defensive.

The smell of Merrick and his tribe cloaked the man, if only faintly. He let himself relax by a fraction, but kept his distance, slowing to a halt and waiting for the wolf to make the next move. They both must be hunting, surely? And if they both were of the valley, then it was better for them to work together. A successful feast was good for them and good for Ursus.

The sight that met his eyes was odd, of course, as it was the first dog he had encountered in recent memory, but beyond that Revui did not care so much for the man's appearance. So what if his ears could not stand, and so what if his coat was wired like willow switches, he was healthy looking and canine enough, and Revui was not too discerning. He saw a wolf, regardless. For such a slow-minded (and narrow of focus) individual Revui was surprisingly accepting in the moment.

The most important aspect of this creature was his scent. He was one of the Bearclaw wolves most assuredly. Presuming he was here in pursuit of a meal, Revui merely nodded to him - a single curt motion - and continued to stride towards him, around him, silently accepting of the man and welcoming of his presence in this endeavour.

Revui was large. Fraser was not a small individual, but the bulk of this wolf dominated his slender frame. He cowered slightly as the man approached, shrinking into himself. Tail down, ears down, eyes lowered. He knew the drill by now. He knew he was inferior.

Are ye loyal to Merrick? he asked, daring a glimpse at the other. Piercing eyes. Well-muscled. He was far more imposing than Fraser's master, yet he was not the master of this valley. Was he a threat, if not to Fraser, then to Merrick? He remained wary, silent. Reticent.

Anticipating that they would get right to work, it was surprising to hear the stranger speak. He did not like hearing that voice and his ears slanted for a moment, but he relaxed and deigned to entertain the other fellow with a response - perhaps if he got that out of his system they could get down to business.

Yes, he drawled a moment later, eyeing the strange wolf-thing with a vague petulance. It went without saying, or so Revui thought.

Good, Fraser said succintly, allowing himself to smile just barely. They were allied, then—brothers in arms. What arms, exactly, the deerhound didn't know. But they protected this valley, and they protected Merrick. They were woven tightly together now. . .unless (until?) one or the other betrayed their oath.

He relaxed a hair. I'm Fraser, the dog introduced himself, giving a little wag of his wiry tail. And you? He was impressed by this rugged specimen of a wolf, the kind of animal only borne from the most wild of places. Would he grow this hardy, with time? With practice?

He still felt very much like a stranger in a savage land.

Wanna fade since he is RIP? :<

The young man took the name and didn't say much, as was his way, but with the manner in which Fraser looked to him Revui realized he was expecting something in return; then came the question, and he was tempted not to answer. They did not need names to hunt, they did not even need to be friends. However, Revui was learning how to be one of the wolves of Ursus. He had become accustomed to the valley and its residents. Even if he couldn't feel the same fealty as he had with Moonspear, befriending the folk that lived here beneath Merrick wasn't such a bad thing. So grimly he offered his own name: Revui. And then moved off from the odd wolf, focused on getting to work - and giving Fraser ample opportunity to join him.