Nocturne Summit the darkness shines in my days

Clear, crisp afternoon skies had whittled away at the ranging Ostrega's hours. He had tracked south today and covered ground both high and low. Mostly, he had trailed prey; given the seasons shifting into the cooler ones, their movements were the most likely to be of interest, or worth. Nothing had been too surprising yet though, and he had not had to run into anyone else of major interest either. His travels were quiet, really. Now, he craned his neck upward and followed sight of a bird with a speckled underbelly. If he wasn't mistaken, it was the second time he had seen one a lot like it today. At least enough to really notice it; maybe it was the very same one.

So, this helped him commit to investigating the shadowed mountain as the bird cut a path right for its slopes--likely to disappear into the last bits of treeline before elevation gave way entirely. Antares started to hike  up with it, lowering his nose to peruse the scents when the falcon disappeared over the treetops, outrunning him with its wings easily. He still went the way it had gone, as well as the rocks and foliage of the mountainside would allow.

Along the way, he paused only long enough to admire the peace over an open swatch of terrain. It was already starting to get towards the back half of the daytime, he realized. The sun would set soon, but he decided not to let that hinder him any. He had more mountainside to cover, so kept on his way on a careful trot with the last light of the day.. not that much of it seemed to reach this stout peak, anyway.

He finds that he prefers higher ground more often than not. For what exact reason he could not say why. Perhaps it was the view as the leaves turned to gold and red and brown on a scale unheard of in his arid home. Or maybe it was his continuing fondness for mountains. Or perhaps it was his lingering fear of the waters and floods. He couldn't say, nor would admit to one or the other. He simply did so when he had the time to. 

He turns when he hears claws scrabbling on stones. He figured that he would not be alone — autumn was a busy time of year for all creatures, and wolves no different. A gust of wind sends the wolf's scent to him. Moonspear. He chuffs a greeting, wondering what the wolf would say.

When he had slowed himself up further, he came into sight of another, but the winds were not well in his favor. He would have to get closer to find out more in earnest, so the shadow dipped his head first to acknowledge the chuff that he took as a friendly enough invitation. Antares couldn't judge him as a Neverwinter wolf just yet but usually when he's out roaming, it seemed he was  good at coming across their group.

Still, he took a few more lengths to get closer since the pathway underfoot allowed it. Hello, he granted, pinning a questioning look on the unfamiliar presence. He looked sizable, hale, with deeper browns on his fur than most he knew. Antares knew playing nicely usually meant better, more fruitful outcomes, so he hoped to put on an easy demeanor. Unless he needed otherwise. Finding anything good up here yet? he asked, aiming right for something neutral, maybe even a shade towards casual without assuming too much just yet. Meanwhile he tried not to think about the hawk he'd halfway followed here, and get himself focused on this stranger--and finding out who he was to start.

short post! sorry for the wait

He breaks his gaze from the landscape to scrutinize the wolf. He doesn't recognize him at all, dark-coated with blue eyes. He hadn't been in the area long enough to learn about the Ostregas' and their legacy. The land looks like it is on fire, he muses, not really catching on that the wolf was asking about prey. It's...what's the word...lovely?

s'all good! i'm in no rush ever

He couldn't quite tell if he had interrupted something yet. It's just too soon still. The wolf's remark tilted his head a notch, and he settled it with a nod and a wandering gaze past the stranger to see what he had seen. Despite the display, he hung on the mention of fire a bit heavily. For all its unpredictability, and fury, fire the concept still had this.. painfully abstract allure about it he couldn't describe yet, or begin to compartmentalize the idea. He filed it away, to be determined.. later. Yeah, lovely works. he provided after a thoughtful pause. Many other words came to mind too. How dramatic did he feel about it? Lovely inspired enough. I like it. It's.. picturesque. Easy on the eyes. he added, admitting so freely before he was back to studying the stranger.

I'm Antares. he said for an eventual return. May as well.

He hummed in agreement. It wasn't that his homeland was lacking in beautiful or lovely sights — it was just that this was unique to him. There were no large deciduous forests turning from green to hues of red, orange, and yellow before falling off back home. He filed the image away, wondering how he would tell his family if when he went home. Haoniyao, he returned. He hadn't heard such a name before — Antares sounded distinct. What pack are you from? I am from Neverwinter.

Antares had not often spend lengthy spans of time here, but enjoyed what he did know so far. The show of the fall colors were a bit bolder here than on evergreen-dominated Moonspear at least. He could take a moment to appreciate that while here.

That name, presumably a title for him, was not like any Antares knew so while he was in no rush to try to pronounce it, it would be easy to remember. He had a distinct enough look about him to match, too, the Ostrega had taken the time to notice. Not in the same way the youths he had met had been, either. Moonspear. he answered readily with the Neverwinter matter already out front, and them on equal footing there. Are you a scout? he asked, trying to approach the question of why he had traveled from the pine forest as vaguely as he could. He was further away from home than the Ostrega was so he would start there, with duty as cause.

He had heard of the place; their longtime neighbors on the mountain ridge. He knew that things were complicated between the two of them, but he had had interactions with packwolves from worst groups. Yao simply nodded in understanding. Scout? No, he shakes his head. I just wanted to see from up here. Where I'm from — I wasn't allowed to climb the mountain. And it wasn't this high. More a hill in comparison to these spires on either side of Neverwinter.

When his answer of Moonspear did not provoke anything obvious, he took that as a good sign for this individual. Thanks to his prior outlook on the pack, he had set his bar a little low, so anything more than that was doing pretty good for him.

It was a fair answer to come up here seeking views (though he was spoiled from his heights of home), but he was stuck on one notion exclusively: Wasn't allowed to climb the mountain? he parroted back, an incredulous twist light on his tone. What did that mean? What or who decides that? Obviously, he had never heard about that and was not at all keen to hear about anyone's mountain privileges being taken away. Unless there was a highly due cause, and if there was, he was hoping to hear about it.

There was indignance? no, something in his tone. Perhaps the other felt wrong about something being so limited. It was sacred. There were many spirits there. The makuhani na maganga — ehhh, priest, I think? — would go there, commune with spirits and gods. Normal folk could anger them without the right knowledge. He shrugged. It was just something that he had accepted and never questioned. He knew better than to mess with spirits. He was a mundane fighter, and such power was beyond his ken or his blood. There's nothing like that here, then?

Oh. He supposed he had heard that one before, that mountains were sacred or something along that same vein. His was only in story and myth and since he made his own home on a peak, well.. he probably took that measure for granted a bit.

Anyway: best to leave the spirits to the professionals, then. Well. I see, he breathed after that. There was a lot he could say but an answer was the best place to start. I don't know of anything quite like that near here--not that I've heard about, Antares shook his head gently. If not claimed pack turf, he could go as he pleased. I live on a mountain even, my family has for generations now.. so to me, they're the standard, he went on to say after a slow exhale. The very ideal. But, I suppose we have been taught to revere the mountains in our own way, too. A sense imbued on him from his family who coveted the very thing. Just not kept away from them, though, he said, pointing there as what had caught him off guard in the first place when his family had sought them out before, and lorded over them currently.

He nodded, now understanding the wolf's surprise. The mountain was in their blood; they worshipped by living on the mountain rather by staying away. The spirits here were different than those home, then, if they existed at all. It was an interesting contrast to his home, nevertheless. What is your family called? They were of Moonspear, he supposed, but the family name could be different than the pack. He didn't think it too rude to ask; they were neighbors, after all. But more than that, he was curious to hear about the family who called these mountains their home for generations now.

He had already alluded to plenty, and given the vast reach of his family, he didn't think the information all that delicate. Ostrega, he said for where he was concerned, he knew the tales that made their history whole upon the mountain, and even before that--plus finally that his litter was an important stepping stone in their legacy solidity here on this piece of wilderness. My grandparents--it was their foundation, and a name that came from the seaside. For us, anyway. he explained vaguely. Others had come along wearing it too. In this, through the rest of his family, he had learned there were other branches, somehow, ones further out than that. He considered them awfully distant, but some type of cousins probably--far back enough, some time ago.

But the ones that concerned him started there, at the coast, and a mountain elsewhere--so he'd heard. Given.. a couple of matters, I take it you come from further than Neverwinter once...? he edged in afterward to see if he would open that case any himself, though allowed space for questions back on his own family. For a Neverwinter wolf, he was fine enough so far that Antares would answer, and be halfway conversational, even, though he did want to move. It wasn't that he wished to part ways yet, however. I want to see a bit more. You can come too, if you want, he offered with a smirk before he would set off, hopefully not entirely alone--at least for a little while longer, and besides, he had faith he could find them a good mountain path to explore.