Duskfire Glacier oops!!!

The herd had meandered east from the ravine, taking up temporary residence in the marsh. Haunt soon left them there, finding tracking them in the swampy conditions pretty untenable. Maybe she could've taken the opportunity to practice stalking behavior in less than ideal conditions, though she couldn't clear out of that filthy place fast enough.

She paused on the neighboring plain to clean the cold slime from her legs and underside, which took more than an hour. Still stained a brownish green color in places, Haunt gave up and took to her feet. She wandered east too, tempted by the sight of the moraine in the distance for no particular reason.

When she arrived there, she sidled along the edge of the glacial path, stopping to peer up at the great wall of icy rock. She smelled wolves. Haunt's brow furrowed, her tail beginning to twitch like an agitated cat's. This was the far edge of Broken Antler's range. Did she need to worry about another pack competing with Sapphique over the herd?

Howdy, howdy! Hope you don't mind this guy droppin' in 

The air was cold and sharp, the wind cut his nose and placed defined cracks on it as it blew across Duskfire. The 
tiny cuts burned as the exposed flesh underneath his leathery nose began to dry, his tongue tried to sooth the dry
spots but the wetness only worsened the problem, although it did provide temporary relief to the pesky dilemma. 
Instead of getting stuck in a cycle of licking his nose, Rye rose from his makeshift den and set out for another
patrol. His feet were confidently placed as he began to slowly memorize where the slick ice spots grew, however
the sun was starting to melt snow and leaving the moon to freeze it over again; so occasionally the male would 
find himself face down in the snow, most of time he would kick the frozen water in a childish attempt at revenge and
of course it was accompanied by a series of curses. His nose was cracked and now he's got snow all over and in his
fur, needless to say his mood was ruined.

Moving on down the border, the wind alerted him to an unfamiliar scent, it ticked him off. An abnormality to his past
self but since the ambush, Rye didn't favor being nice to strangers, although that wasn't the reason he was in a grumpy
mood. His hackles reflected his new attitude, each hair standing straight and tall as he moved to investigate.

She blended in with the snow but the males nose did not lie, she was there and too close for comfort. His trot slowed
as he neared the border, brown eyes glued to the female, gathering what information he could. He snorted, "I assume
you smell our borders. Yet you are still here, what could you possibly want?" He demanded. Rye stared the female
down with a fiery distaste for miss snow white, it was clear he was not in the mood for any antics. 

Happy to have you! :D

Someone swept in her direction, prompting Haunt to lower her head. As much as she disliked the idea of competition, she wasn't here to challenge anyone. The position also protected her throat. She widened her stance too, just in case she needed to make any sudden moves. Her tail remained limp behind her as she tried to remain as neutral as possible.

Careful not to look directly in his eyes, Haunt managed furtive glances, each just long enough to ascertain a few things about him. His own body language spoke loudly of his irritation at finding her here, even before he spoke. His words were gruff and she could feel the weight of his gaze boring into her brow.

"I wasn't aware there was a pack here until right this minute," Haunt told the truth. "Have you been here long?" She expected they were relatively new to the area, though she wasn't entirely sure he would even tell her. He didn't seem particularly open to a conversation.

His eyes scanned the horizon, expecting to see another wolf in the distance but nothing appeared, not a single
pine or deciduous tree was out of place. To Rye, it was still as beautiful as the day before. Pine cones and flower
blossoms showered the ground with dull and bright colors, it was an oddly serene landscape despite the opposite
 colors on display. Forcefully removing his glued eyes off the scene Rye resumed paying attention to the female, 
who claimed ignorance. He deadpanned, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. Suffice to say he wasn't buying it,
even if it was the truth, Rye didn't want to trust a stranger. Which meant her follow up question went unanswered. 

The male sighed, with his irritability beginning to wane Rye took a seat, his hackles retreated and his expression 
relaxed. Although he still refused to answer her question, he would volunteer another piece of information. "My
name is Rye, Rye Hotah Black. Its a bit of an odd choice since 'Hotah' translates to grey or brown, so in essence
my name means grey, brown and black." A small smile formed as he remembered his father explaining the
meaning of his name in the dead of night.  He didn't bother explaining why he wasn't going to answer her question 

as he was confident it was self-explanatory. "Yours?" 

Rather than answer the simple question, he went off on a tangent about his name. Haunt quirked a brow, wondering why he divulged so much personal information while avoiding the topic of his residence. It didn't bother her, per se, though she found it curious, just like his shift in demeanor.

She opened her mouth to introduce herself when she had a sudden thought, perhaps inspired by her recent encounter with Fennec. Haunt had never tried to fool anyone, nor play games. She was about as straight-laced as they came. But with Rye's reluctance to be forthright with her, the young huntress found she couldn't resist the temptation to test these foreign waters.

"Sylph. My name is Sylph," she said, pulling the name out of thin air. She wasn't entirely sure she sounded convincing. But why would he doubt her? "Sylph Arktoi." It made her think of Artemis. She'd probably picked up "sylph" from one of her dreams of the deity.

She almost mentioned Sapphique, though if Rye wasn't going to tell her about his pack, then maybe she should keep that information close to the vest too. Better yet, why not run with the lie? "I'm from a pack called Legion." That wasn't even totally untrue. Maybe the best tales were spun from a kernel of truth. "I'm the leader's daughter. She sent me out to..." Haunt paused before concluding, "Find her a potential suitor."

Sorry for such a long wait, my muse has given me the bird the past few days

The hesitation before speaking caught the males attention, in his mind it looked as if she was second guessing
her own name. He was intrigued to say the least but he kept quiet and let the female go on a quick spiel about
her mother looking for a suitor. Now that caught his attention ten fold, it was a bizarre and awkward request,
maybe even a little wrong in some aspects. 'What mother would send their child out to look for her a mate?'
  Rye was quite confident it was a tall tale but who was he to ruin such an odd but intriguing tale? 

"Well miss Sylph," he began, butchering the pronunciation, "What's your mother like? What kind of suitor is she
looking for, I may know just the guy for her." Rye wanted to keep his interest genuine, he went as far as putting
on his most convincing voice. However the ear to ear grin he kept trying to force away would surely give way to
serious doubts of him being genuine. 

Dude, no worries, post at your leisure. :)

Whether or not her tale was convincing, he went along with it. He asked about her mother. Haunt thought of Arbiter and how to describe her. And what sort of traits she might look for in a mate. Her mind flicked to Kaertok for a moment before forcefully suppressing that thought. In the next moment, a realization hit her: she didn't have to describe her actual mother.

"She's beautiful," Haunt started, picturing Artemis in her mind's eye. She would just leave out the bit about the antlers. "She's soft but strong. She's not just queenly, she's somehow beyond that. She's a huntress. She's raising me to be one as well." Her tail switched as she spoke. Haunt found she was enjoying weaving this fiction, sprinkled with scraps of truth.

As for what sort of man her fictitious mother wanted, Haunt pondered on it a moment before saying, "Well, Legion needs a king. So she wants someone strong, probably a guardian type. She wants more children, so he should also be very fatherly. Do you know someone who fits the bill?"

As she spoke, the males ears searched for any foreign sounds that piqued his interest but all that he
got in return was the soft, nearly inaudible crunches of a bird in the distance crunching snow
beneath its feet. His ears cupped back towards the female as she finished explaining what her
mother desired in a mate. Her descriptions reminded him of Wintersbane, he was certainly strong, 
a leader and more but Rye wasn't about to mention him. Instead he opted for something a little more
creative.

Rye hummed loudly and gazed off into the distance, a more show of theatre than anything. "Well, I do
know a fella, he lives west of here. Big guy, certainly strong, powerful in every way." He paused, 
quickly changing an aspect his story, "No, no never mind he's a— what do you call them?" He
looked off in the distance once again, this time genuinely in thought. "Oh, he's a howl boy. I'm sure he's
got plenty of pups by now." Rye shook his head, superficially disappointed. "But why are you out looking 
for a mate instead of her?"

"A howl boy?" Haunt repeated, making no effort to mask her incredulity. Catching herself, she smoothed the dubious look off her face in time to answer his question. "Well, she's busy ruling a kingdom. I'm her heir. And her advisor," Haunt added, thinking on her feet. "My father, he abandoned us. So I also know what not to look for and if they don't pass my judgment, then we don't have to waste her time."

A lot of that sounded plausible, especially with the half-truths sprinkled in there for extra flavor, but Haunt was pretty sure she was going to lose track of the thread pretty soon. Rather than ask her acquaintance about this big, strong wolf, she genuinely wanted to know, "What the heck is a howl boy though?"

I am assuming Phoenix Maplewood is visible/close from where they're at. Lmk if I'm wrong or need to change anything.

"A howl boy?" she echoed, Rye only nodded, reaffirming what he said. As 'Sylph' told her story a new scent was caught in the wind, 
light, approaching untraceable but there nonetheless. It distracted him from her story as a new directive steered him away from the 
snow girl, his muzzle following the short lived scent. Ryes lungs took short breaths in quick succession, faintly shaking his whole body
and stirring up the air around him with each exhale. A short breeze wafted the scent directly into his nose, his mind quick to process 
that it belonged to a deer. Sharp eyes scouted the nearby Maplewood forest waiting for a sign of movement, at this point Rye was no 
longer registering the female was with him, he was far more interested in the potential of a warm meal for his pack. His breath held 
and his body remained frozen, still waiting to see a leg, a white tail or the whites of its ears against brown and green. After a minute of
scenting the air and scanning the forest he saw it, the whites of a bucks ear. By now 'Sylph' came back into the picture and he was 
almost positive she had caught the scent and was tracking the deer just as he was. He wanted that deer but would this female try to fight
him for it? He was confident he could win no matter what, however success was never a guaranteed thing. Maybe they could split the 

bounty if she decided to aid him.

Ryes' eyes refused to lose track of the buck, in part to check if others were lurking nearby but from what he could tell the buck was alone.
It was odd to see a buck without a harem of does' but a brief flash of light pink and red crossed his eyes, it was injured. Rye knew little
about deer behavior but he was sure it was cast out by its herd. An easy target but not without danger, antlers with sharp enough ends to 
pierce a wolfs hide yet the reward was worth the danger. "You see it? That male deer off in the forest, it looks to be alone. How well do 
you hunt, if at all?" His eyes remained on the deer but briefly thought about letting it go, he saw 'Sylph' was on the younger side and may 
not posses the necessary skill to aid him. Then again she said she was being trained but was that the truth?

He didn't answer her. Haunt wasn't invested enough to feel frustrated, though she realized she should probably stop wasting her time trying to get information from this stranger. She opened her mouth to give up the jig when she noticed some very telltale behavior. She shut it, squinting as she read Rye's body language.

His attention drifted away from her and Haunt followed it. She didn't see the glimpses of white in the neighboring forest, though turning her head caused her to pick up the faintest scent. She drew it into her nose, scrutinizing it. Did it belong to a member of Broken Antler? Was he injured? She thought she smelled the metallic tang of blood, maybe even a hint of infection...

The other wolf looked to her as if sizing her up as competition. Haunt gazed at him coolly, thinking along the same lines. But as she continued to analyze the scent, she came to realize it wasn't one of "her" deer. It was quite literally free game.

"I don't have to see him to know he's there," she replied. "I'm a hunter by trade, though I haven't hunted much large game," Haunted admitted. But was she even reading his question right? Did he mean for the two of them to try their hand? "Even injured, isn't it a bad idea for two wolves to go after a buck?" She wondered if he might summon his pack, in which case she needed to get the hell out of dodge.

Something had changed in Rye within the past weeks, a spark that lit a monstrous fire in his chest, it burned on pure
ferocity and only waned during times of peace. He didn't give a rats ass about risk or danger, you either do or you don't 

and if you don't, well then you are no better than a coward. He wanted that buck, the dangers no longer outweighed the 

reward, it was the opposite in his twisted brain. Ryes frame of mind had become contorted into something that was near 

unrecognizable to himself and past friends but to others that was just who he was, although he had yet to have a reason 

to show it. However Rye didn't lose himself completely, his more well mannered side still remained but danger was more 

alluring to him. It stoked the fire in his chest, pushing him forward no matter the consequences or outcome. Inner turmoil

 skewed  his mind,  his brain rife with pain and regret but the side affects went unnoticed, often justifying his actions with

 only two words.

'Fuck it' 

Rye scoffed at the females concern and let the buck out of his sight, he looked at her with poorly hidden ill contempt.
"What? Can't handle a little danger?" He challenged her ego, could he stoke her own fire? Deep down he couldn't
blame her caution, she was young and certainly had her head on straight but she ruined his fun, and at the moment that's
all that mattered. Perhaps his manners went out the door after all. Rye spoke up again, "Forget
it." He stated bluntly. 'What use could she be anyhow?'

Rye taunted her openly, causing Haunt's ears to sweep backward. Well, that was definitely her cue. She shook her head and prepared to retreat when he cuttingly told her, "Forget it." She paused, his mercurial moods curious and off-putting all at once. She knew it was time to go.

"Good luck with that," was all the yearling said before she turned and trotted back toward Sapphique. She would've liked to say she didn't glance over her shoulder, wary of a surprise attack from the rear. But she checked several times. Better safe than sorry.

Thank you for the fun thread! :D

Thank you as well!

The male rolled his eyes, watching her leave, staying in case she decided to search for 
some caches but she left with only a few glances back at him. As soon as she was out
of sight, he left to head back to the main hub of the pack, in search of food.