Noctisardor Bypass Its entrance gate is rusted shut,

I couldn't wait. Forward-dated a week? A few days? Felt cute; might still do a few threads on the coast. @Arbiter

Although overjoyed to find one of the four alive and well, and not planning on losing track of him anytime soon, Dagfinn had no desire to stifle the younger wolf. He was still not sure his presence was entirely welcome in the lad's life — he was aware that they were both painful reminders to each other of what was, and what could have been. At least, that was what he assumed.

With winter fast approaching, however, Dagfinn found it prudent to secure a place for himself. He might not need a pack to fall back on, but one could never be too careful. Besides, it would be nice, he thought, to get to know a people again, and to see their pups born in the spring. He missed that sort of life and chatter, and seeing his nephew again had sparked new hope and joy in the deep of his belly.

He laughed, sometimes, for no reason at all.

Today, he sang, his rollicking baritone announcing his presence, and his desire to join, over the land.

Yeah I have NO IDEA what's gonna happen so VAGUE GO!

She was glad to be home but it didn't feel quite the same, if only because, well, it wasn't. Her daughter had been hurt (or killed, who freaking knows), and it had been all because of Kaertok. His inability to be honest, to keep his promises, the fact that he apparently did not give a damn about whether his children missed him. He'd best not return. There was no place for his sort in Legion any more.

With the children under Warlock's eye, she had gone to patrol. She should go about bringing them with her more regularly, if only because then she could keep an eye on them -- they would have to re-earn their mother's trust. And today it wouldn't be uneventful -- a howl broke the air, so she turned towards it and it wasn't long before she spotted the caller up ahead. 

Her first thought, of course, was Terance. From far away the shadowy figure with a pale mark across his chest perhaps could have been some ghost. Impossible, of course, but she would have been happy to be wrong -- but Thief wasn't the sort to lie. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking thanks to Kaertok's departure. Probably. So she cleared her thoughts and continued closer. Yeah. Not Terance. Shocker. So on to business: this was her land, he had called to join, and she would greet the man as was typical for her, serious and cutting to the point, I am Arbiter, and you've arrived at Legion. You are..? If he had expected to meet someone full of hugs and smiles, she would quite quickly disappoint.

Luckily for him and Arbiter both, Dagfinn expected very little from these wolves, at present. He hoped to find a home and a temporary family, but such things could not be had out of thin air. First, he was a stranger on their doorstep — a beggar after proverbial scraps.

His body language was deferential toward the soot-and-snow stranger as she approached, at first actively with a flickering tail and lolling tongue, and then more passively when she seemed keen on cutting straight to conversation.

"Dagfinn," he replied, sensing he'd caught the woman on a short fuse. (He did not yet guess that she was always on a short fuse.) "Pleased to meet you," he added, because it was polite to do so, and because he assumed she was sometimes a lovely person, and probably just didn't have niceties to spare for strangers on this day in particular.

"Legion wouldn't happen to be in need of a bard or a dancer?" he asked her. And then, once again sensing that being quick and to the point would be more appreciated here, quickly added: "Or a warrior. I am all three in one dashing, vagabond package."

But he did not look dashing, right then. He looked rather tired, and there was a fever-brightness to his eyes that was not entirely joy, not entirely pain. He looked, rather, like he could use a good, long cry and a good, long nap. He was sure that Arbiter would understand this, if he were to explain it to her, but for the moment he did his best to keep that buttoned up, and hoped ever so that Arbiter would forgive him for being a little less charming and ribald and musical than usual.

Arbiter was a tough cookie, perhaps now more than usual. She hadn't been willing to trust, but even even the fragments she'd offered to Kaertok had been pretty well trashed. So it was definitely good that he wasn't going out of his way to test her patience. A hint: right now she didn't have any. And yes, perhaps some other time she'd have been in a better mood, but with her it was hard to tell. 

She couldn't recall someone describing themselves as a bard -- at least not in recent history. With the way the world has been lately, best to lead with the latter. How long had it been since she had felt as though folks could relax? Too long. Maybe back on Sunspire before the famine. Practically a lifetime ago at this point -- before her oldest children were born, at least. What do you seek in a home? My pack is one that is designed to foster improvement, and to value all sorts of expertise. I value loyalty here, respect. Things that Kaertok didn't think they were worth, it seemed. That was a bitter note. Dagfinn being weary fit right in with how she saw the world at the moment -- it was enjoying being torturous just for laughs and the misery of the wolves that lived in it.

So things were not entirely settled in this corner of the wilds, either. Dagfinn hadn't thought so, and now that Arbiter brought them up herself, felt safe in assuming this unrest was the source of all her woes. Unfriendly neighbors could be the worst sort of trouble, after all.

I shall keep this in mind for the next time I join your pack, he replied with another gentle whisk of his tail. It was said now, after all. As for what he was looking for in a pack: I am looking for a home. A people to get to know, and children to watch grow. This rhymed on purpose — there was a certain lilt to his voice that threatened at any moment to break into song, but he kindly refrained. I am rather stuck in my ways, but I am always open to improvement. It has been some time since I've had a regular sparring partner.

Lotte! his heart cried once more, and a shuttered look passed over his dark features. Companions. That is what I seek most of all. And it is in my best interests to keep my companions safe and well fed — and well entertained, after all is said and done.

Perhaps at some point she might mention that the real trouble were those from inside the pack. But not now, at least. It wasn't proper, and she always felt better keeping cards closer to her chest. And though perhaps as she spoke she wondered if she should mention that Kaertok was gone, there was reality: she wasn't keen on going to search for him. If he wanted to be gone, if he wanted to abandon his children then fine. He was a lesser man than Terance.

Still, Dagfinn at least seemed to have something resembling a personality. Again, a benefit but maybe just one based on recent happenings, maybe one she'd regret later, Then we might have a place for you. Simple as that, assuming he didn't go and change his mind all the sudden. You'll find the children here are my own. Unless Guardian comes back, then there was one oddball. The people here are worth your trust, and have proven themselves through tough or dangerous times. We may not be overly numerous, but I'd rather have the wolves I have here than many transient others. This is home. Loyalty to the pack had once again moved to the forefront of her mind.

Dagfinn had not changed his mind, although he felt somewhat chastened by Arbiter's denouncement of transients. He was rather proud to be a transient, even if it had, thus far, caused him more than his fair share of troubles. Still, beggars could not be choosers, and he did not think that Arbiter's opinion of his trade would cause him undue stress, were he to remain here. He had other skills, after all.

"I will endeavor to be worthy of their trust," he replied with another wag of his tail. He might not remain with them 'til the end of his days, but he would be a good packmate while they had him. No one would call him a freeloader, at least. "And yours. Is there anything else I should know before I join?"

Rules, mainly. He wanted to know if there was some sacred stone or tree he wasn't supposed to piss on, or if he would be expected to don animal skins and maurad his way through the neighbors' land at the next new moon.

I stopped in the middle of writing this so uhhh. Hope it still make ssense. >_>

He'd spoken like one who did want to stop, perhaps for an extended period, so she hadn't thought anything about her word choice. A nod of her head. Good. As you earn it, you'll have your choice if you see yourself as more of a physical or scholarly wolf. They are equal, just whichever calls to you more. A shrug of her shoulder. It apparently didn't matter to her at all. If it mattered more to him, he would ask for more details in one way or another, whether it be the one that offered most opportunities or just what might fit.

Of course, recent pet peeves had to come to mind -- it was the same thing she'd asked and been ignored before. If something does make you want to wander for an extended period, I ask that you inform us. Again, it gets old to wonder if someone hasn't returned because they were hurt, or if they want to be. And if you scout, the packs to be wary of are the Saints of the Dying Light to the mountains to the southwest, and Ursus in a valley to the southeast. They both seem like they love trouble, and are both unpredictable at best. I'm not so keen. Easthollow is an ally. That was about all she could think of. No, wait -- And if you catch my children trying to adventure out of the territory, drag them back. She was being literal, though it was a turn of phrase that could be taken figuratively. They lost that right. How long would it take them to earn it back? A while, for sure.

It was a lot of information to take in all at once, but the praticed bard was already converting it into verse for safekeeping. Later on, it might make a nice ballad for his time spent among the wolves of Legion.

"As you say," he agreed, inwardly hoping he did not run into any children exiting the territory; he wasn't sure how to feel about stepping into a role of authority where youngsters were concerned, and hoped they could all understand that he was merely terrified respectful of their mother. "What are their names, incidentally?" That would have to go into the song as well. And also, if he happened to run into a child with a different name, he might know to leave them well alone. Or, actually, should he assume all children here are naughty liars? He opened his mouth to ask, and then thought better of the query. He'd take these problems as they came.

At what had happened recently, Arbiter was at the point of deputizing any packmate who would listen and be able to stop them. She was not going to have another runaway situation again. The pups needed to be properly trained before set loose on the world and they certainly weren't to that point yet.

Haunt, Vex, and Royal. You'll likely run into my older son, Warlock, as well. If you need assistance with anything, he can provide it. He enjoys being useful. Maybe "enjoys" was too strong a word, but despite being the least physically impressive of her children, he at least was certainly most dutiful. She didn't mention Brouhaha, partially because she hadn't been around much, and partially because she wasn't exactly as useful as her brothers. Was she even going to earn her true name before her younger siblings? Arbiter had her doubts.