Whitefish River It's a beautiful and a burning thing

Outrider thread! Anyone can join!

As per her new Alpha's suggestion, Vienna was out and about. Her main goal currently was to track down whatever she could find on Ferdie's whereabouts, but she was not going to ignore her other duties that went with the trade either. Recruitment was something she'd really like to do, but it was rare to come across another wolf who wasn't already spoken for in a pack. Not a pushy creature, she didn't want to press someone into leaving their home and join hers unless they seemed keen on the idea.

She'd crossed the flatlands and come across a river, her steps now leading her along it's edge. Every once in a while she'd lower her head, scenting around for anything of interest. For once she was actually paying attention to her surroundings, not a very usual occurrence for the daydreamer. Her naturalist side was somewhat turned off, for she found that when she did not focus on keeping to her outrider trade she got too caught up in the beauty around her that she missed the presence of others nearby. She did not want to do that today. It wasn't the danger in this that made her focus (though it should have been, really) but rather the idea that she might pass someone who either had some useful information or a need for something from her. She'd hate to walk right by and miss the opportunity to gain something.

Water lapped at his feet with a peculiar force, and as the ashen male waded deeper into the river, he could feel the persistent tug of the rushing liquid, pressing against his chest and legs. It threatened to carry him away, but he held his ground tightly, eyes scanning the moving stream for signs of fish. He could feel the aquatic prey animals brush against his long limbs, and with frustration, Kierkegaard bobbed his head beneath the surface in hopes that he could lock his jaws around one of them. Lifting his crown back up, he shook the water from his eyes and ears and scowled heavily into the river, now fully soaked. Wading out of the deeper part of the river, the ashen male made his way along the shore at a slow pace. His pelt dripped a trail as he trekked forward, sharp eyes hoping to find a place where he could pause and catch himself a meal. When his golden gaze fell on a strange abnormality in the shoreline, he trotted towards it and noted that it seemed to stretch further into the river than anywhere else. Kierkegaard stepped into the water and pushed himself forward until he could peer into the deeper liquid. He watched carefully for several minutes, hoping to see the salmon that he knew to be native to the waters before growing tired and impatient. One step more, and then another, and before he knew it, Kierkegaard had lost his footing on land and was paddling in attempts to regain his ground. The river’s current was too strong, though, and it tossed him down stream. When his legs were finally able to strike against the gravel and he could hold himself still, the ashen male glanced up to see that he had lost a good distance. A sound forced his lengthy ears to perk on his head, and he darted his gaze in the direction of a female who was tiptoeing along the edge of the water. Kierkegaard regarded her for several long seconds, wondering if she too had noticed him.

Sorry for short! trying to catch up ^^;

On a normal occasion Vienna might have completely missed the wolf half-hidden in the water nearby, but since she was being oh-so-observant, she only almost walked right by instead of actually doing it. Taking a double take, she jumped a bit when she realized the thing in the water was not only alive, but looking back at her.

"Um, hello!" she hailed the stranger, surprised but not overly fazed by the strange meeting.

don't worry about it!

Flashing his sharp gold-orange gaze upwards, the ashen brute caught sight of the female before she managed to open her mouth in greeting. He blinked at her solemnly for a few moments, regarding her with a quiet stoicism that bordered on being eerie. When her words fell against his lengthy ears, he flicked them backwards so that they flattened on his skull. Still drenched in water, Kierkegaard padded towards the shore with several sloshing steps and huffed quietly from his nose. Her tone seemed cheerful enough, which caused the ashen male to assume that she would easily be deterred by him. Most pleasant creatures did not spend a great deal of time around the Sairensu male. Drawing his salmon-colored tongue across his lips and nose, the large male nodded his head to the female with a surly face. “Hello,” he rumbled in response. His voice was emitted like a low growl. Distant thunder that took a fraction of a second to hover in his chest before being issued from his muzzle.

When he silently turned eyes and simply stared at her, Vienna wasn't quite sure what to think. He didn't seem threatening so much as... odd? And odd she could most certainly deal with. In a way, she too was odd, as many could see her abundant enthusiasm as a little wacky.

Then his expression went a bit sour as he greeted her and she wondered if perhaps she had been mistaken. Really, there was only one way to find out. "Did I interrupt something? If so I can leave, no problemo! Were you fishing out there? The water looks chilly, not that it isn't worth it. Fish are always worth it." She loved to fish herself, but the Sunspire didn't afford a lot of chances to do so. It was moreso sheep way up there, though she had hit up a few of the surrounding streams at times. "My name's Vienna, by the way. What's yours? Unless you don't want to tell... then nevermind."

Kierkegaard was always sour. He spent his entire existence on that earth in a perpetual state of sardonic expressions and ghoulish scowls. It was simply his nature; he had raised himself for the better part of his childhood. This left the Sairensu wolf with very little room to adjust to the way that society would have preferred him. His only real form of companionship had been his sister, and even she was more wild than most would have liked. It wasn’t that he had anything against the stranger in front of him. He was feral, wild… he did not belong socializing. Flicking his ears forward a bit and shaking his head at her question, he frowned. “No,” he stated steadily, drawing his gaze from her back to where he had been swept away from his fishing spot by the current in the river. “I was attempting to fish. Current’s too strong,” he then explained to the eager woman. His brows twitched upwards as he glanced back towards her. She didn’t seem to stop. A ghostly smile flashed along his dark lips and he shook his head at her consistent babbling. Kierkegaard was not entirely sure if he was making the female nervous or if she normally spoke novels above her company. “Vienna,” he tasted her name on his lips with a thoughtful frown and a slight nod of his head. “I am Kierkegaard,” the ashen brute then introduced with a slow dip of his large skull towards the earth.

Vienna was normally a pretty talkative little being, but when she got thrown off by a newcomer, she became even moreso to the point of blabbering. It used to be, though, that it happened whenever she met someone new. Now she had progressed to the point where it only happened when the new person didn't seem particularly open to her presence.

"Well that's good to know!" She peered into the river. "Couldn't tell that from the bank." She dipped a paw in, then shook the water off. It was pretty chilly.

"Kierkegaard..." She tried it out, the sound foreign to her tongue. It was a mouthful of a title. "Where you from?" Now that she was getting a read on him she was calming down a bit.

I like Vienna :) <3

“Mhmm,” he responded, somewhat noncommittally to the female’s remark about not being able to tell the current was strong from the bank. That had been his mistake, after all; he had assumed he had the strength to wade out far enough and found that he was quickly swept away. He, of course, did not want to tell Vienna that he had mistaken the ferocity of the river waters, so she was stuck with his gruff response instead. Listening to the way she seemed to test his name on her tongue was peculiar. It sounded strange coming from the lips of strangers. The ashen brute had never been able to get used to that oddity. Flicking his orange-gold gaze to her strange green eyes, he blinked sternly. A question seemed to fly from her muzzle a moment after she had repeated his calling. His ears twitched atop his thick skull and he wondered how best to answer her question. His go-to would have been silence, but he assumed that she would find this rude. Kierkegaard drew his pink tongue across his dark lips and shrugged his broad shoulders in response. “Nowhere in particular,” he answered her question, wondering if she would demand more from him in a response. “I travel…” he then padded.

Daww thank you ^^ she is super fun to write, especially opposite fun characters like Kierk :D

As seemed to often occur, the man was in luck, for Vienna did not pry into things that others did not wish to freely speak of. She had found in the past that doing so burned bridges far too quickly. It was much better to take what she could get then leave without any conversation at all. And strange as this guy seemed, he looked as though he had seen much of the world.

"A traveler, huh? Me too, kinda. Trying at least. I want to become an Outrider for my pack, run around recruiting and such." Her mind suddenly switched topics, her expression lighting up once more. "What's the favorite place you've ever been? Or do you have one even?" She shook her head. "I can't decide, I love them all too much! Seems every place I go has something absolutely beautiful about it that can't be beat!"

I don't know if I'd call him fun haha. I have a feeling that Vienna and Siv might get along though.

Kierke had never been against those with prying questions. They had every right to ask, but he also had every right – in his own – to refuse answer. Being prone to silence had become something of a gift. If he found a question was posed where he was not comfortable answering, he held his tongue and kept to himself. The ashen creature found that if companions were ignored, they often disappeared. So far, Vienna had yet to ask a question that was posed as rude or insensitive, so he had done his best to answer what he could. It turned out that, at the mention of travel, the female’s expression seemed to light up and her eyes danced before his. Kierkegaard’s brows lifted lazily and he peered at her with a placid expression on his features. She spoke of being a supposed traveler herself, which was interesting enough, and then proceeded to ask about his favorite places that he’d been. This was a question that Kierkegaard could not quite answer; he did not favor one place over the next. They were simply temporary destinations until he was ready to move on to the next, and he very rarely thought about them afterwards… all save for one: his birthplace. He was not going to share this with the female, however. “I could tell you my least favorite,” he remarked in a dry voice, swallowing heavily.

Well, fun for me at least XD we could totally have a thread anytime <3 though I'm about ready to head off to bed for the night!

Oohhhh, those words spoke of a story. And as an aspiring Chronicler as well, Vienna collected stories like a man starving snatches up whatever morsels he can find. She loved a good tale more than almost anything else, though she did not have many of her own. She was the type who found just about anyone interesting and could delight in about any recounting no matter how mundane. Everyone was important and deserved to have their story remembered by someone.

"Please, do! Sometimes that's even better!" She sat, full attention on him. She wasn't sure he was the type to elaborate, per say, but it would be a good time all the same listening to him talk about this place. Because, let's be real. He was kind of a spooky guy. And if a place could be unhappy for him, then it must be a real piece of work.

I think we should! Have a good night. <3

Vienna was flattering, if anything. She indulged in the few words that he did share with her, and she did not seem perturbed at all by his resolute silence. Drawing his gaze away from her face, he focused on the distant sky for a moment… wondering if it was worth his time sharing his tales of travel with this stranger. His pelt was still wet, though, and he had time to wait for it to dry. With a quick flick of his tail, he lowered his haunches so that he could sit on the semi-flat surface of the bank. Huffing softly through his nostrils, the ashen male squinted back at Vienna, wondering if she was only humoring him. Either way, it was not worth his time to be distressed over such a thing. “I went through a short time when I had lost my sister,” he began in a quiet rumble, his ears twitching on top of his skull. “We had traveled everywhere together,” he then added, because none of the information he had given her prior to that comment would have suggested that losing his sister was of any importance. “I set out to search for her, but after three days was forced to give up. I stopped for a night in a glacial cavern.” Kierkegaard drew his tongue across his dark lips with a heavy frown and furrowed brows accompanied his expression. “Really, it was remarkable… at first. As the night continued on, I began to grow restless. When I woke for the fourth time, I decided to leave the cavern and find some other place for sleep. I turned to leave the way that I had entered, but found that there was no way out,” he explained, his expression did not change, though, so he must have appeared a rather solemn story-teller. “I was stuck in there all night. By morning I had found a new way out. The worst part was not getting lost, though. I had found a small area where I could see the light of the moon above me, but the hole allowed wind to enter the cavern. Every time it did, I could hear wailing from its depths.” The frown was still permanently imprinted on the ash-colored wolf’s features, but he looked to her with an expectant gaze and lifted his brows slightly.

Vienna's eyes widened as his story progressed, growing more and more eerie as it went on. She was sorry that he had lost his sister, for she knew the pain of a sibling parting, but the wailing cavern intrigued her.

She was right. This story was wayyy better than she had imagined. "I've never seen a glacier before. Is it super cold? And if you knew it was the wind, was the sound really that creepy?" She couldn't imagine, though she supposed that in the dark and alone she would have been freaked. He didn't seem the type to scare easily.

She couldn't think of a time she hadn't liked a place she had visited. Well, maybe once. "I think my worst was the burnt lands. I passed through a place, west of here, where an entire part of a forest was turned to ash. It was just sad... nothing but death. Yet even then it had a sort of still beauty to it. The ash was so soft to walk on." She recalled the somber atmosphere and peaceful stillness of it. No birds, no plants, no... anything. Nothing but the wind. "I guess I've never seen a place I haven't liked some part of."

Vienna seemed to listen to his re-telling of the glacial cavern with a wide-eyed intent expression on her features. Kierkegaard found it a flattering approach to his – oftentimes – bland way of speaking. Very little seemed to excite the ashen brute, so he did not always find the reactions of others to be appropriate to his few words, but she seemed to be genuine with her interest, and so it had fueled him to the end of his tale. She then seemed to follow his story with a few questions that must have seemed important to her. “It was cold. The wailing was still eerie, yes,” he answered with a deep frown on his already sullen face. It was surprising that he could speak so well of his past encounter with the caverns, but when faced with an inquiry, the male returned to his basic responses and few words. It seemed that Vienna was ready to relieve the male of his role, and she began to speak of the one place that she had not been entirely fond of either. Kierkegaard listened to her recount the tale of stepping through burned lands, having found the ash to have been a pleasant experience even if the death that had surrounded her had been troubling. She certainly seemed to be something of an optimist in the face of something that typically caused creatures fear and sadness. Still, he had never seen the hatred for burning lands and raging fires. They took without asking, and while that was both frightening and inspiring, there was, in fact, a positive side to the death and decay that was a burning landscape. “Fire brings new life,” he remarked in a thoughtful drawl, his eyes darting away from her for a moment of time.

Vienna nodded, though still a little dubious. "It does, but with little regard for the life that was there before," she returned. Then she smiled. This talk was getting a bit serious for her. "Fire might be frightening, but boy it sure is pretty. I've only seen it once, and from a distance, but wow was it a sight." She was a big fan of the colors if not of the result.

"You going to be sticking around here, Kierkegaard?" She asked, somewhat abruptly changing the train of conversation. Despite his brevity and somewhat solemn appearance, she hoped the answer was yes. He was interesting and therefore had interesting stories to tell. There weren't many things Vienna liked better than interesting.

He could tell that she did not like the subject, or perhaps how dark it had gotten in such a short time. That was life, though. If she did not like the idea that fire wrought destruction and chaos, it did not change the fact. Wolves were the same, though he did not wish to point this out to the female. They hunted and killed with little to no regard for the life of a prey animal, and often took the lives of other wolves without much remorse. That was to say, not all wolves were of that breed, but he had not met many who could say that they had not acted on natural instinct when faced with the opportunity. They were animals, wild to the very core of their beings. So, Kierkegaard opted not to respond to any more of her comments about the fire for fear that the flames within his own body would begin to consume. A question was poised next that caused the male to flick his ears forward and tilt his head just slightly to the left. She had inquired as to whether or not he would be staying in the area. Now, whether that meant the entire expanse of the Teekons or the river where she had found him was not clear. A stretch of silence seemed to slip between them and the whiskers on his muzzle twitched slightly. “Yes,” he answered her, blunt but good enough to satisfy her curiosity.

sorry dear! Hope you don't mind me wrapping this up ^^

The silence, followed by an extremely blunt response, did little once again to temper her mood. "Well then, I hope to see you around! But I should be getting back." It was said with some regret, for she would have liked to have pressed this wolf for more tales of past encounters. If she caught up with him again, perhaps he'd treat her to another. If not, well... it had been fun!

"I wish you luck in whatever you hope to do!" She grinned at him. "It was nice meeting you, Kierkegaard!" And with a final wave of her tail she bounded away in the direction of home. He'd given her some things to think about, that was for sure. And maybe when she settled down again she'd do just that. At the moment, though, it was far too beautiful a day for much thinking to occur.

I'll get this archived.

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It did not take long for the girl to admit that she should be returning to her pack. Kierkegaard was not at all surprised by this. The scent was in her pelt, and she had spent more than enough time listening to him speak of glacial caverns and ghastly wailing in the middle of the night. More than this, though; he was nothing more than a stranger to the girl. They had only just met. Nonetheless, Vienna was kind enough to bid him farewell before she departed, leaving him with uplifting words. His molten gaze followed her departing figure with a slow sigh before the hulking ghost gathered himself and slipped away into the surrounding terrain.
The day was still fresh, and he had been given plenty of things to think about in the conversation that he had with the flighty girl. She had been kind in nature and willing to listen to his monosyllabic responses with a smile on her narrow muzzle. More than this, though, the ashen-furred beast had been reminded how much he missed wandering into the great unknown. And his heart ached to think that he might never return to that lifestyle.