Ouroboros Spine midnight science fiction feature

Possible joining thread!

While cursed with a less than stellar sense of smell, the fact that even he could note such a thick scent of wolf here meant he was on the right track. He had encountered two other borders, one almost right after the other, leading to a ring of mountains that surrounded what appeared to be a hollow in the middle, like a giant crater upon the land. Scent trails criss-crossed between all three territories, as if they were all connected somehow. A syndicate of packs?

The sun was just beginning to set as he approached the edge of the packlands with a haggard and limping stride. The journey and effort of climbing the mountain was beginning to take its toll, not to mention the previous wounds that had since scabbed over that hindered his travels. If it helped his image of a poor, struggling loner, however, he accepted the pain for now. He just hoped such a large pack were not opposed to taking in such pathetic-looking strays. It was a shame he had lost his trading supplies; memories of the ambush still brought bile to his tongue.

A marker with the tang of pack scent marked the boundary line, suggesting he stop his approach. With a groan, Quentin rolled back onto his haunches before throwing up a howl to whoever was near.

Aiolos strode the foothills on the innermost outskirts of home, watching the day as it ended before him. Paths which he walked many times. Paths which Shikoba had walked many times. Her scent now, near faded to nothingness. 

The Sunman's sigh is deep, yet his thoughts cutoff from their nostalgia at the call of another at Moonglow's border. Not a recognized voice. Not one of their villages either, granted tbe knowledge of open border policy they had. 

Aiolos was beckoned forward and so he came. Coming to view, a molted grey wolf with a dark mask. He looked thin and slinky even, as Aiolos drew nearer and whilst doing so examined his form. 

Welcome to the village Moonglow, wanderer. He introduced, dipping his greying chin. The stranger was worse for ware, it looked, as though he had been in travel for quite some time. I am Aiolos, Sunman, here.

It wasn't long before a pack wolf answered his call, and into sight came a noble-looking man bathed in russets and mahogany. He was a warrior by the looks of him, but an aged one, with telltale greys beginning to creep onto his features. Yet his gaze was still sharp, observing the stranger just as Quentin did before he then introduced both himself and the pack.

Village, rather. How quaint.

"Greetings, what an impressive title," he replied with a wide grin, politely dipping his head low. He did not have much to make his case to the Sunman for a place in the pack, and so thought on his words carefully before he spoke. "As you can see," Quentin began, lifting a foreleg to reveal a scabbing over wound. "I'm in a bit of a pickle here; I was ambushed about a moon back, they took all that I had."

He paused to judge the other man's reaction.

The stranger's grin was met with a small smile of Aiolos own and a gentle roll of his shoulders. Some people were quite intrigued by the title of Sunman and Moonwoman which was here. Others did not easily pick up the connection of its leadership. It seemed this one did. 

Firey gaze flickered to the man's leg, injured yet scabbing over. With travel, surely the would kept opening and making it take longer to heal. It didn't look infected though, which was a good sign. 

Our villages is made of great healers and hunters. Yet those as guardian improved, given with the addition of @Tulugaak among them. We can tend to you, but first, speak your name and where it is you come from. Is it healing you seek only, or a home?

His ears pricked a little at his response, satisfied with the choice of pack he had approached. Too bad the Sunman made it sound like they had plenty of healers; his own skills then would be only an addition, supplementary as opposed to critical. Quentin wanted to ensure he was absolutely essential to the pack, and so the story concocting in his mind twisted slightly.

He was, however, pleased with the mention of many hunters.

"That is good to hear," he replied, the smile never leaving his features. "My name is Quentin, I come from the coast where I've been travelling as a healer for hire, of sorts." He paused with a chuckle as if recalling a memory, before drawing attention once again to his forelimb before continuing. "At least until some raiders discovered my stockpile of wares and saw fit to steal it all. I thought I had a chance to fight them off, but it was dark and I was outnumbered." The memory this time was real, and he let slip a scowl as he spoke, before quickly looking back up to the Sunman and flashing him another grin.

"I wish to find some place to settle and rebuild; a home."