The Sentinels to hate my enemies

TL;DR — because i'm not sure this post even makes sense, wintersbane's tracking the herds, lol.

keeping to his word, after a few hours of rest, he seeks to reacquaint himself the territory that he had once sought as ironclan — stormbound, he corrects himself —’s hunting grounds. he isn’t entirely opposed to sharing the shores with hua’s clan but still, he would like a neutral territory that’s patrolled and policed for them and them alone. their numbers are still small; small as he left them perhaps with the addition of one but that was hardly enough to stop the newly appointed saltlord. though there were vague scents of others hardly any of them appeared to be stable enough to be considered much of a threat to him. with this assumption, wintersbane follows the freshest of herd scents, doubting they’ll be on the move with their rutting season in full swing.

he could hear their bleated calls, the crack of their antlers as the bucks fought for the rights to carry on their own lineage …something that his own ilk would be going thru in the season creeping ever closer upon the cruel and bitter wings of winter’s spine.

As usual, Tahoe woke early to scout and restrengthen the pack’s borders. It was a tedious task, but one he so took enjoyment in. On some days, he would follow the scents of others who had scouted before him, primarily keep rough tabs on what was occurring within the clan. It was an occasional tendency, contributed in part by his investigative nature. He found a scent—Umbra’s—and for the sake of it, he chose to follow. Soon after, he discovered a familiar scent mingled with the woman’s; Wintersbane’s—the group’s former leader. It had been awhile since he’d seen the guy, as far as he knew, he had left the pack entirely. The two had been there, roughly an hour or so back. Tahoe sniffed attentively at the sand, gathering all the information he could. It appeared they had a brief interaction, then split, considering their trails went off in different directions. With a huff, he sat there for a moment, curiously contemplating.

While it would’ve been easier to seek Umbra on the matter, her retelling would not be the same as getting the information from Wintersbane himself. He wanted to know where their former leader had gone for so long. Had he reclaimed the pack for his own? Considering the man’s presence had been accepted by Umbra, he must’ve been welcomed back in the least—so it seemed. To find out the truth, he followed the man’s scent to wherever it would take him—the Sentinels. 

After some time, he had found Wintersbane at last—who seemed to be occupied with tracking a scent trail of his own. McBride picked up the pace to catch up with him. 

Wintersbane. He greeted in a crisp woof, hopefully to avoid startling the man—considering his approach was from behind. It would be smarter to gauge the wolf’s reaction before going nearer. Good to see you.

wintersbane, the sound of his voice draws his attention from the herd he watches at a safe distance. the tundrian was never much of a hunter, beyond necessity that was; instead he favored the clash of teeth or words over the dull hours spend following and watching and waiting. tahoe, the saltlord greets as he turns glacial gaze upon the other man, fellow stormboundian; step slowing to accommodate the other man before it stops entirely.

and you, wintersbane returns in kind, before canting scarred muzzle towards the cream-tan pelts of his quarry in the distance. just checking up on the herds. he supplies despite that the other man hadn't asked. to wintersbane, it is the boring paperwork of legitimate business; a necessary evil he would rather let to someone else but not necessarily sure he can trust someone else with it ( lest they had a titled hunter in their midst ). i'm glad to be back.

Tahoe slowed as he neared Wintersbane—who had given him a moment to catch up. The man's demeanor and words were welcoming, putting Tahoe's previous suspicions at ease. He still wondered what compelled the man to depart so suddenly, without much word at that. His return was appreciated though, Stormbound needed aid in whatever form it would present itself in.

I see, He acknowledges with a curt nod, coming to a stop roughly parallel to him. He peers at the herd which the man had gestured to, eyeing their agile forms which gathered in the distance. The sight made him realize how long it had been since he had the opportunity to hunt an elk. Nowadays, smaller prey had made up the majority of his diet. Frankly it was much easier to go after critters which had displeasure of crossing paths with him. Though fishing was something he had worked on lately to improve, the aspect of hunting a fish was incomparable to the feeling of chasing a towering ungulate. Winter only made the sea more cold and unwelcoming, he didn't practice as much as he could have. Today was not the day for hunting, though.

Did'you reclaim leadership? He asks, turning his head to study his counterpart's response.

there was something in reassuring himself that the herds were still there; a sort of serenity to tracking them idly as they went about their day. so long as he remained beneath their radar he could spend a few more hours at here; observing. perhaps, wintersbane thinks, it calms him because he holds an ironfist of control out here; in how long he chose to follow them providing there were no mishaps that alerted them to his position nearby.

like his father before him, he enjoys control though it has merry evaded him for all these years.

tahoe's question draws forth the cup of his ears and wintersbane is quiet for a moment. in a way, he responds after his contemplative pause. i am saltlord now, but stormbound is too much umbra's for me to reclaim saltking. in fact, she'd done away with the rank entirely.

Good f’r you. He commends. It was good that Wintersbane had decided to re-claim authority once again. The pack needed leadership; direction. Though, as the man explained, it was not total authority—instead, he would only be serving along Umbra’s side.

He wondered what prevented the man from simply reclaiming the title. Whether it be from a place of common decency or a lack of desire. In a way it was understandable to him; to avoid such a high role. Tahoe was one who lacked the ravenous ambition for power. Power was something that came from status, and status was nothing without the numbers for it to be implemented upon. A leader was in charge of controlling such numbers and frankly, he never liked the aspect of management nor found leadership to be a role he hungered for in the first place. As he had found along his travels, there were many unlike him who were hellbent on creating something of their own. Tahoe found it was simply easier to allow those who desired to lead to go on and do so. If he didn’t like how things were run, he’d go elsewhere. Stormbound’s future was unclear, but it was easier for him to stick around and see where things went. 

What’s stoppin’ you? is his plain inquiry. At least to him, it seemed easy for Wintersbane to regain control of the pack once again.

tahoe's questioning of what was stopping wintersbane from reclaiming the helm of the fledgling pack forces wintersbane to think a little too hard upon his answer. it would be easy to lie, to claim that he had no desire to reclaim the helm. more like, he doubted umbra would give it up now that she had it; she had, after all, demanded a leadership position and while he had his doubts about how well she'd do given her penchant for chasing off potential joiners he does not give voice to these thoughts.

they couldn't show that they were a house divided to anyone — especially not those that pledged to follow them.

there's little interest in it for me. still, the honeyed lie slips from his lips like waxing poetry all the same. i am content. perhaps it wasn't an entire lie. considering ironclan had came about after being usurped after he'd usurped left him with an exhaustion that he still has not entirely recouped from. he did not feel like usurping again and it was better just to be content with saltlord and try his best to recruit.

And so it seemed Wintersbane was content with his position.

Tahoe’s eyes focus ahead on the herd for a moment. Maybe that’ll change. He responded nonchalantly, glancing back at the man once again. McBride knew satisfaction was only temporary—perhaps Wintersbane would grow bored and desire for more. The man could mold his future however he pleased, all he needed was direction.

He didn’t wish to engage in some meaningless small-talk, the answers Wintersbane provided would suffice. I’ll let’cha go for now. He adds in a half-mumble. He waits for acknowledgement from the man, dips his head, then saunters back in the direction from which he came.

it would change; as surely as the moon and sun rose and fell. and the change would be unusual and unpredicted ...but for now, content and stormbound was wintersbane's reality. see you later, tahoe. wintersbane responds to the other man's half-mumble. when tahoe is gone, wintersbane returns to the task at hand: following and mentally mapping the grazing patterns of the herd(s).