Whitebark Stream i died for beauty
the wayward son
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Ooc — delaney
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#1
All Welcome 
for timeline purposes backdated to 12/21

bravery —
confidence, arrogance

has never been something that vex has lacked. rather, the short leash his mother keeps him on, something he cannot ( or perhaps is simply unwilling to ) understand. he is unafraid of the world ( foolishly, childishly ) though it is not particularly bravery nor curiosity nor an itch to explore that pushes him into the reaches of the taiga closest to the bypass, but still a few territories over all the same. it's a singular mission; the very purpose that has driven him every time he's set foot outside of legion's borders.

find kaertok.

each time, he is kept from this goal; blocked, dragged back into the unrelenting grasp of his mother, older sibling(s), and pack-mates. the early afternoon is as chilly as the morning; the sun playing hide'n'seek with the clouds as vex paces thru white-barked aspens and birch trees; small leaves of gold and orange heavy with ice and frost that dusts them clinging stubbornly to spindly branches giving a small pop of color to an otherwise winter wonderland.

vex, with his shades of bleached golden-browns and red-orange stand out against this stark landscale and the anneriwok moves cautiously forward, walking in the shadowsteps of the black polar bear god, sos; of whom is nearly a constant companion to vex these days.
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#2
He'd picked up the scent of foreign wolves at the other end of the valley, leading him to veer toward the crisp, coolness of running water in an attempt to avoid detection. Still, he'd skirted the edges of what must be some pack or other's lands, stepping cautiously, but with purpose. 

Corvo was not eager to face the likes of his own kind again anytime soon. They could not be trusted. 

Beyond the valley and into the trees, Corvo moved like a ghost, able to move silently and carefully since he was on his own. He had no certain destination in mind, no real need to get anywhere, and so when he came upon the stream within the towering trees  he decided to rest for a time. The afternoon would pass, lending to an even chillier evening, and come the nightfall, when Corvo was sure his black pelt would hide him from most eyes, he would continue on his way. 

But there was always the problem of his bitter thoughts when he took the time to stop traveling. His mind was plagued with memories both sorrowful and heartwrenching, the emotions quickly turning to anger when Corvo really focused on them. The chill in the air did nothing to cool his temper, and so it was these memories that clouded his senses, luring him into some other world, some other time.

All the while a stranger was approaching, and Corvo had not noticed...
the wayward son
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#3
blanched terrane offers the embertouched no clemency; verity of which nestles within his mind as a thorn piercing into suppleflesh. piguktuk, haughty prince of legionnaires claiming the bypass concedes to simple, irreversible fact —

taking minuscule consolation that he is not the only sufferer.

sos, mighty beardeity visible only to vex, stands out like the hellursine he is.

another wolf, pelage the color of dusk's umbra draws stonecut of vex's glower betwixt them; anchoring upon the outlander. a breadth of a moment; spill of breath pushing betwixt slightly parted lips as the trajectory is considered and reconsidered; steps at halt, pondering in hesitation whether it is too little, too late to slip 'round concealed.
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#4
The memory cut him smooth and swift, the mind's laceration immediately spurting bloody emotions. Corvo hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes, but the images played out across his eyelids. His mother, begging for her life. His brother, fleeing like the gutless coward he was. And Corvo, drifting out of consciousness from a blow to the head. When he woke, all was quiet, just like it was in the forest now. But the snow was painted with his blood and the blood of his mother. Her lifeblood. 

Corvo's eyes opened and he turned his head, expecting to find her laying there still, her body rigid with death and cold. 

Instead he found a stranger. 

Caught as he was in the coils of a tragic memory, he didn't school his expression and the surprise was all over his muzzle until he realized it moments later. Instantly that surprise turned to anger. His ears flattened against his skull and he rose to all fours to face the newcomer. 

"Delight in disturbing others at rest?"
the wayward son
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#5
the sneer on vex's lips echoes the hellish curl of sos's lips in the distance; as if he and the hellursine, believed beargod are connected by a thread; a mirror of one another. disturbing others is my particular talent, vex purls with haughty delight. rule one of strategy: never betray your emotions to your opponent. clearly, he was already a thorn beneath the skin of this shadow pelaged stranger.

perhaps if you picked a territory further away from my borders your rest would not be disturbed. comes the suggestion with the same air of boredom that might accompany someone examining and picking at their nails; unfortunately for vex he lacked the necessary fingers and fingernails to pull that off. whitebark stream wasn't necessarily close enough to legion that it should ignite any territoriality within vex ...and instead he was just being a jerk because, well, he could.
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#6
Corvo cocked an eyebrow, scrutionizing the younger male with no attempt to hide the fact. The youth's contempt reminded Corvo of his brother, who had little to no respect for anyone. And no fear either. Not that Corvo thought he was much to fear, but he thought it rather foolish for the young wolf to have approached him in the first place. Thinking back to that age, Corvo's mother would have panicked had he ever wandered that far from her side. Rather than warrant her disappointment, Corvo remained, eventually growing strong enough to care for her instead. 

Then again, that hadn't exactly worked out, had it.

"Your borders? A little wet behind ears to be laying claim to much of anything, aren't you?" He narrowed his eyes, taking a step closer. "And I didn't pick up much scent nearby anyway. Which means, you're a little far from those borders, right?"

He didn't expect a clear response. The youth seemed more interested in scalding Corvo with his words than anything.
the wayward son
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#7
vex levels a look that says 'i said what i said'; not particularly taking any sort of offense to the point-out that he was too young to have lain claim to anything. while in the history of the wilds that vex doesn't know that wasn't particularly true ...irregardless, he speaks the words with a bravado borne of pride and the fact that he is the leader's son and little else. maybe one day he would hold power that he does not have in the here'n'now ( heaven help everyone ) but that seems highly unlikely given his particular penchant for breaking rules.

you'd think so, vex drawls with a toothy grin. the stranger didn't know him and more than he knew the stranger. perhaps he was plenty far from the safety of legion's borders but even with the step forward the ebon stranger takes towards him, vex refuses to be cowed or back down from this delicious game. my proximity to my borders hardly matters. this is one of our hunting grounds and we are a territorial bunch. neither of those statements held any sort of ground in reality and in fact it was probably only vex that was obnoxiously territorial.
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#8
"On the contrary, I feel it matters very much," Corvo replied, tilting his head slightly to the side. He found the youth's arrogance foolish and irritating, but he wasn't willing to let that show. Instead, his yellow eyes remained steadfast and cold, showing no mirth for the pup's games. And it was a game, that Corvo could easily sense. He wondered what sort of wolves this young male came from, to have gotten away with that behavior for so long. 

"If that's the case, then I'd suggest your group do more by way of securing their lands. After all," he paused, shrugging his shoulders, "never know what sort of riffraff like me might wander by. Now, what is it you're doing so far from your pack?" Despite himself, he was curious as to the youth's safety. Was he putting on territorial bravado to protect himself? After all, he didn't know Corvo or what he might be capable of.
the wayward son
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#9
vex's smile is a thin, waning thing; a twitch of the muscles along his muzzle; glossy and false as the stranger disagrees. an ear flickers back in a haughty flourish; communicating that he didn't really care what the older man thought for vex cannot remember having asked his opinion. you wouldn't be saying that if you ever crossed paths with my legate. he uses arbiter's rank in favor of calling her 'mother', not wanting to call arbiter mother in front of the stranger; especially not when he was trying to put on his (in)famous bravado.

the one thing vex could count on when it came to his mother was her iron fist ( or jaws? ).

vex lets out a low snort at the question posed to him — as if he were actually expected to answer. why? because the stranger was an adult? adult or not, he wasn't an adult vex knew and even then his tendency to answer was varied largely on his mood. like i said, vex drawls haughtily, emphasizing his words. this is our hunting grounds. he tells the boldfaced lie again, not willing to switch from his story ...and certainly not willing to given even a microinch of trust towards this stranger.
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#10
"Legate?" Corvo echoed. He'd never heard the term used before, but he assumed the youth spoke of someone of importance from his pack. He got the impression he was supposed to be impressed or fearful or both. Perhaps another Corvo from another time would have been, but he didn't fear any wrath going forward that would rival what he'd experienced in the past. Nothing could compete. 

"And you're here to hunt alone, is that it?" Corvo asked, as if he was expected to believe the pup had been trusted with providing a kill for an entire pack. Unless this was some sort of test of the youth's skills. Maybe he was being put to the task in an effort to prepare him for hunting in the future. But from Corvo's understanding the whole point of having a pack was to have the numbers to bring down worthy prey. Then again, Corvo hadn't grown up in these parts and he hadn't been raised in a pack so...
the wayward son
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#11
yeah, vex reiterates. legate. means alpha. he supplies cheekily. true enough, vex could've just used 'alpha' but arbiter had never called herself such and it wasn't the name of her title anyway. even so, it was the closest comparison he had beyond calling her 'bad bitch in charge' which he couldn't bring him to say about his own mother even if it was definitely a compliment. vex rolls his eyes as the stranger plays the guessing game. that wasn't even close but for the sake of his little web of lies he was spinning, it wasn't even realistic. unless, of course, he was hunting something small like a rabbit.

could be. a herd animal was far beyond his reach, was far beyond the reach of a fully grown adult at that. there's more to huntin' than just killing animals, y'know. vex sneers; as if he was exasperated at his assumption that even had to break that down for an adult. ironically enough, vex was still trying to go for the tracker speciality even if his priorities had taken a shift.
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#12
Corvo nodded, storing this information away for use later. He had a lot to learn about the packs in the area. More information would only make it easier for him to steer clear of them. If he could figure them out, he'd be set to wander without being bothered while he looked for his brother. 

As the young wolf went on, Corvo couldn't help but scoff. Laying it on thick, wasn't he? "You don't say? I hadn't realized." After all, he thought, I haven't been on my own, surviving, without knowing a thing or two about hunting. "Since you're so smart, so capable, I suppose I'll just leave you to it then. Stop bothering you. Unless of course, you're up for a challenge?" He let the bait hang in the air, wondering what the arrogant pup would say to that.
the wayward son
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#13
the stranger's response is sarcastic as anything vex has been giving and the anneriwok grins, showing his teeth, chin lifting in a flippant manner. he doesn't ponder too long over why the stranger assumed he was out here to hunt if he knew there were aspects of it that vex, despite being six months old, was capable of handling on his lonesome. tracking happened to be one of them and while he wasn't outside of legion's borders tracking herds it wasn't a total lie. he was tracking. his wayward, long since whisked off by the wind father whom had been missing from their home for months now.

good. vex responds because he doesn't need help, doesn't trust the stranger with his true purpose and further would rather go it alone. or with haunt but as she wasn't available alone was the next best option. the bait is dangled before him like a rabbit on a stick and while there is certainly a part of vex that wants to give into it, the haughty prince in him is louder and stronger and resolutely says 'i don't have to prove myself to anyone least of all some stranger'.

i'll pass. i'm on a tight schedule. meaning he never knew when arbiter was going to track him down like a bloodhound and drag him back to legion. it was obvious he wasn't going to find kaertok but still his desire to track his father leads him to the surrounding territories in the hope that he might catch even the barest whiff of something. with their conversation assumed wrapped and the stranger assumed to be going about his way, vex continues on in his path nonetheless, not quite ready to call it a day and return to legion just yet.