Ouroboros Spine hard time forgetting, even harder forgiving

vaguely fwd dated thread, 4 @Sinaaq

Alpha. It had been too long since she had truly worn the title, but she had acted as such with Echelon and now, Kroc, on her journey to this place. Now, it was hers. Tonravik prowled the land possessively, dark eyes scouring the borders as she confidently marked the borders. As the lead, she would prevent dissent and chase from the territory those that did not support her as Alpha. They had no place here.

Her nose drank in the scents of the pack. She would soon meet the wolves as individuals rather than a whole; but first, she would hold a meeting come morning. It had been late when she had made her claim, and Tonravik would respectfully let them sleep before calling them all together to her. In the meantime, the large woman lumbered and marked, and marked, and marked...

Sinaaq wasn't very sure of what had happened to Cara, and frankly the Arrluk couldn't be bothered to care. Perhaps she had been challenged by the loner and lost, or perhaps she'd decided she'd had enough and abandoned the pack. The latter struck Sinaaq as unlikely given how how affronted she'd been at his subtle challenges of her authority, encouraging him to be more social. Had she been any better, the darkling couldn't help but think with a twisted scowl on his lips. The Spine would be better off without her, the little girl playing Queen. Her leadership skills had came across as poor to the obsidian Arrluk. He had high standards, after all. The thought occurred to him, briefly, after the noted absence of Cara continued for longer than it should have, of stepping up — but Sinaaq did not dream of power. He'd never felt the lust to lead, though he very much valued his own dominance. He was wretched and thus he had no place trying to be a patriarch of anything. The fallen was no King, and this he was contended with.

The new leader had seemed to have appeared out of no where, though for all the attention Sinaaq had previously paid to the Spine, she could have been apart of the pack all along. In truth, it made no difference to the darkling. He only cared if she could lead and lead well. If she could inspire him — something that Cara had no intentions of doing, seeming to think that it was not the leader's job to inspire their underlings — and make him want to follow her, if she could prove herself worthy of it then she would have his loyalty. Sinaaq was comfortable in the Spine and was in no mood to disrupt such comforts. For a long time he had traveled, seeking a home for Adlartok at first, a brief bought of love that left him worse than before, and then finally here to the Teekon Wilds not once but twice. He was tired of wandering. 

Sinaaq was solitary by choice, elusive and enigmatic out of fear self defense. It was the only way he knew how to protect himself from suffering more heartache. If he loved no one and no one loved (or liked, even) him then he would not grow attached and thus he would feel nothing when they left. Actively, Sinaaq sought the new Spine Queen. The meeting had been one thing, but in order to assess what kind of leader she truly was that required something much more personal and one-on-one. He found her in the process of marking the borders, attempting to drown out Cara's fading scent with her own. “So you are the new Queen of the Spine,” Sinaaq greeted her, accented voice lilting softly as he slowed his approach, eyes of liquid gold fixated upon her with subtle curiousity.

Tonravik moved fastidiously, pausing now and again to nudge at the earth with her nose and then, mark the spot she nudged. But soon, she heard the approach of another. Tonravik was not at all discrete when she turned on her heel to look to the wolf approaching, wanting the other to be sure they knew she was well and ready to meet him, whatever his intent. She knew not the degree of loyalty this pack shared for their abandoner, but what she did know was that said loyalty would seem like child's play when they came to fear know her. 

A single ear twitched at his question. It was rhetorical, but Tonravik did not dabble in rhetoric. She was quite literal. She surveyed the beast before her, and gestured to the borders, quietly asking if he would like to partake in helping her man the borders. Tonravik didn't think it insensitive, just practical. Tonravik would kill the next wolf to do what she had done. But then, unlike the once leader here, she would not even enable the opportunity. The untalkative wolf did not know what to say, and would leave the field open for him to ask what he would.

The bear of a Queen moved with precise intent Sinaaq observed, and despite himself admired. Without knowing her he had a suspicion that she would not fail to impress him. Though the darkling kept it close to his chest, coveted like something precious, he had to admit (at least to himself) that she already had accomplished impressing him. She had stormed the Spine and conquered it in a single night, likely before any of the Spine wolves knew what had even happened. Like a moth to a flame he felt drawn to her enigma, wondering if she could continue her lucky streak. In all reality, his opinion meant nothing for he was nothing to the Spine. Just an enigma in his own right. A wretched hermit that kept to himself except in the circumstances when he was being forced to socialize. There had been situations in which had exceeded this with exception, of course. There were always exceptions. Under Cara's play pretend rule, Sinaaq had been nothing but a challenge, with the few times she seemed eager to raise to it, to play his game and draw him in with intrigue only for the result. She had disappointed him, though it did not come as much of a surprise. Everyone left him disappointed — eventually. Even his own nephew — his own flesh and blood. 


Everything he'd ever done for the infection had been cast aside at the boy's first inkling of paranoia. As if Sinaaq would have ever left Adlartok. The thought in and of itself was insulting, but nevertheless they had parted after their reunion, the child spewing nonsense of not trusting anyone. Like Sinaaq had ever given him a reason to consider such a thing. Sold himself as a prisoner, among other things to keep the boy kempt, fed and looked after; made demanding conditions when he'd been in no place to do so. Adlartok's was one of few betrayals that hurt, that's sting still had a nasty bite.

Refocusing his attention, Sinaaq watched as her ear flickered towards him though she gave him only silence — her intention of avoiding his rhetorical question obvious to the darkling, whose right brow rose into a wicked arch over the sharp, golden iris it accented. His gaze followed the movement of her gesture with precision, and to show that his affiliation did not lay with Cara (and likely never had?) he obliged her, svelte form moving with subtle sass and smooth, majestic movements. To her cause he aided, leg raising to add his scent to hers upon the borders. “I am Sinaaq,” He offered as an introduction, simple but important nonetheless, lest she be like him and not care enough to inquire as to their names.

Tonravik was not a woman who disappointed others. She was a woman who went above and beyond the call of duty, albeit in a colder, crueler course than most. The behemoth looked over to the streamlined man before her; he was tall, and he was lean. The wolf had no real imagination to speak of, but knew his body would be useful in battle evading and doling out swift, hellish bites to exhaust and eventually defeat. Tonravik was not an evasive wolf herself; she crowded the enemy. With her bulk, she was made to be a battering ram and give them no room to breathe thereafter. She was smothering on the battlefield.

The Tartok wolf hadn't any idea of his betrayals, but had no intention of doing so herself. She was loyal to those loyal to her. And as he spoke his name, Tonravik blinked. Sinaaq. It was Inuit, and something she recognized. Her head swung in his direction. Edge of ice, it meant. He had marked the border as well, and for that, she chuffed amicably at him. The woman had given her name at the meeting, and did not think Sinaaq a dumb wolf and so did not remind him.

"Do you have any roles here," she rumbles then. She was not a thoughtful wolf by any means, nor was she smart; she was simple, brutish. But Tonravik knew the wolf was as strong as its pack, and wanted them to be strong, working together for the common cause of keeping others out and becoming the most formidable pack there was, here.

Sinaaq did not fail to notice her look when he gave her his name, having wondered since the meeting if the shared origins of their names would garner her interest. For what purpose that his sperm and egg donor bothered to even give him a name when his mother decided to starve him (which would have worked if he did not have nurturing older sister who was mourning her recently lost litter) was beyond the darkling but despite his over eagerness to emancipate himself from the creatures that had created him had never sought to change it. He could have easily claimed that he kept it to spurn Akiak and Aga, but wanting to spurn them meant that he cared about them and he had ceased to care about either of them quite a long time ago. He failed to change it because he liked it. It might have been given to him by those unworthy to even mutter it, but he was worthy to bear it. It fit him and he it. A small smirk tugged at the edges of his lips, wicked in it's design as he continued forth in aiding her to mark the borders, the first time he'd done it in some time.

Not that there was anything to urinating on borders, mind; but it was a laborious task and one that Sinaaq would not have done for Cara even if she'd have begged — which she would not have (though he quite enjoyed the imagined image of the false, child Queen on her knees begging him). “No,” Sinaaq responded to her inquiry with dark honesty. He had not done much of anything, nor had a desire to since Quicksilver's abandonment. Though his lack of roles now did not mean that Sinaaq wasn't skilled. He could fight (if winning the death match with his sister was of any indication), and he could take care of pups just fine, though given his bitterness towards Adlartok he had no desire to use his nephew as a shining example. He had even been a scout, able to move swiftly from one destination to the other, a natural knack for mental mapping of lands.

He was honest. He had no roles. Tonravik would not ask him why. Whoever had led before must have let others skate by as others took on responsibilities. Tonravik would be sure all wolves carried their weight. Already his scent was strong; it was then she knew one of her assumptions had been correct. And so, the bear of a woman looked to him. Assessed him. It was clear she was mulling something over. Tonravik had to think before she spoke, simply because she hated words and delivering them. Ambition was rewarded. Laziness was not tolerated.

"Things here will not be as they were," she decides then, ear flicking. "As a pack, we will be strong, now. No weak links." Weak links were useless to her. She was sure her message was clear, and it was far from indirect. It did not only pertain to him, but the pack. Despite his lack of a trade, then, she did not think him incapable. Change was coming, and her arrival was but the first part of it. She did not blame him for his lacking a trade; what had he once been working for? And, for who? A wolf that had left them all. That woman had been the weakest link of them all. But with her gone, the Spine would rise.

I apologize for the long wait on this! ;-;

Would things not have been the way they were, there was little doubt that Sinaaq would have taken offense to her implication that he did nothing. For as contrary to popular belief as it might have been Sinaaq put much stock into hard work and had no issue with giving as much as he received in return; but of course Cara had given him nothing and thus, Sinaaq had given her nothing in return with little but contempt and dark rejoinders as an extra. Contempt and sass were not something that Sinaaq Arrluk had ever really lacked at, but it felt increasingly sanctifying pissing Cara off with it — never mind that it would soon become abundantly clear that she didn't care that she was rid of him. Good riddance. He had no respect for mediocre wolves who played pretend at knowing what they were doing; and no tolerance for those who feigned righteousness because they thought they earned it. Hypocritical as they may have been.

“If I had believed you would leave things as Cara had, if I thought you were the same type of woman I would have left,” It was true enough. Despite that Sinaaq had felt a small sliver of intrigue towards Cara it had quickly twisted into something malicious and contemptuous. No, Sinaaq, despite not knowing her well enough to make factual judgments, did not think that the new Spine Queen was anything like her predecessor.  

Tonravik nods, understanding. He was here. And that he stayed even after her words meant he had intent to do more. Because if Tonravik believed the male to be fundamentally lazy, she would not have let him stay. But she took the male at his word. He had no reason to lie, and if he covertly had loyalties to the once queen--Cara, Tonravik now learned--she at this point was none the wiser. There was little reason to suspect this. He could have followed her the moment she had gone.

"Where do your skills lie," she speaks then. Tonravik was sure she would see, but preferred to know what he felt himself best at. Was he a fighter? Apothecary? A scout or a spy?

Sinaaq spent a moment considering her question, face thoughtful as he absently, though purposefully continued on aiding her in marking of the borders, the scent of dirt and urination strong upon the air as they worked to cleanse the land of all that remained of Cara's scent, though it was admittedly not much. Faded. Weak. “Once upon a time I called myself an Scout, Guardian and, as humorous as it is to me now, puppysitter.” Yes, he had once held the title of being in charge of taking care of and entertaining whatever pack he joined's children. It was a useless skill, he could not help but think with a soft scowl twisting his lips. There were no children within the Spine now which mooted his particular talent for taking care of those who needlessly relied on him, and the thought of picking it back up brought with it bitter and angry thoughts of Adlartok, who he wished he could have let go without tearing out a massive portion of his mangled heart with him. “The first two I will pursuit, and the third I will replace with something more practical, if it pleases you.” Cynically, the darkling cast his golden gaze to her, searching her face for any sign of reactions, or approval. Either way, he would do as she asked because he felt she was worthy of such a thing. Sinaaq did not care to appease other's, mostly out for his own self gain, but she had earned enough of his respect and intrigue for him to be willing to put forth the effort.

Scout, Guardian, and cub-sitter. That he had the skill was good to know, but he need not call himself that; no, as he thought to mention doing something else of her preference, she rumbles, "Warrior." Warrior and Guardians went hand in hand, but it showed she valued these skills greatly. And if he was a Scout, fine; while she had no desire for him to visit packs, he could learn of others just the same without going to their borders.

"I want none to know of us. That we exist, yes. But not who we are, or what we stand for. Though whatever you can find of others without revealing anything, report to me." Her ear flicked, as she thought of what he might think they stood for, now. Whatever he thought, she would clarify should he ask. The other packs need know nothing of them; they were not in the fold. They and their curiosity meant nothing to her, even if they could do something for her. If they were not of the Spine, they were useless as far as she concerned. The duo continued to mark the land, leaving no stone untouched, throughout their time together.