Larkcall Lowlands moonlight encounters

The skies were dark, besides from the faint twinkling of the stars and the pearlescent light of the moon which peered out from behind obsidian clouds. It was in these midnight hours, when the world was quiet, that the wolves of the monadnock stalked. On instruction by @Craw, Lorcan now lead his pack mates @Celandine and @Greer down the steep cliffs of their claimed outlook and out into the vast tundra expanse. Golden eyes searched blindly through the inky blackness as his large paws clambered down the rocky path which weaved it's way down to the softer lowland terrain, knowing the trail well the male needed little guidance beside his nose and sense of direction. He had made his way down to the tundra often in the past few weeks in search of prey to hunt, in the hopes that his initiative and willingness to please would impress his new alphas should he return with fresh food for the cache, but now as he made the familiar journey again his fur bristled at the realisation that time it was not prey he was tracking down - it was @Askan.

Finally when his paws met the softer grass of the tundra, he looked back in search of his companions, his tail wagging low with submissive greeting as he whined for them to follow him. It was an awkward situation for Lorcan, being the lowest ranking individual in the trio of wolves but instructed to take the lead. He wasn't sure how to act and it made him uncomfortable. Lorcan licked at his lips restlessly as he listened out for their familiar footsteps. "I should still be able to track his scent out here once we get close enough. I believe he may have headed to the river soon after we spoke..." He stated, before lowering his muzzle to the ground to sniff at the soil. "But first we just need to follow my scent trail back to the spot where I encountered him, then we can decide on which direction he took." The task seemed simple enough. They were all capable of tracking down his own scent for it was one with which they were all familiar with. Turning his attention back to the lowlands, Lorcan put his nose the ground and began to weave his muzzle through the grasses in search of his previous trail. A small grunt was uttered when he picked up on his scent as his nose brushed along a smooth impression of his paw which had been left in the dirt. Giving a small yap of encouragement to the others, the subordinate began to trace his way back towards where he had met the dark-haired brute of interest.

Greer did not like the idea of following another — especially someone so new to the Whitestone pack. With Celandine it was different; they worked well together, despite the lack of communication between the two. They were able to convey their thoughts through short exchanges, using physical cues more than verbal ones. The shadow still was not entirely sure if he trusted the pale wolf completely, but she proved her worth and, for now, that was enough. Craw trusted her, too, which made it a little easier to engage in scouting missions with the former Silent Moon princess. She also did not try to chat his ear off, which he appreciated more than she would ever know. She was a peculiar wolf, surrounded by an air of mystery, but he dare ask questions. During their second encounter she had confessed more than she had meant to, compelled by a bought of word vomit, and since then Greer kept his inquiries to a minimum. Unless the girl wanted to accidentally (or purposely) confide in him again, he would not offer. She made it very clear that she wanted him to forget what had been said (and for the most part, he had).

Reluctantly he followed the tawny wolf, a disgruntled expression firmly pressed against his maw as he allowed Celandine to step ahead of him*. He was not a leader; he was a shadow, trailing behind to ensure that nothing was missed. Greer did not like being the centre of attention, nor did he like others following him — this way he was also able to keep an eye on the newcomer. He was curious as to what Craw saw in him to allow him entry into the pack. Like Willow Ridge, the monadnock wolves were very close and worked together as a cohesive unit. They did not have time for stragglers or those who were not able to pull their own weight.

Once the tundra brushed against their paws the tawny male spoke, stating that he would be able to track his scent soon. Greer’s nose twitched at the comment, his brows knitting together as he studied the horizon. He responded with a short nod, his mercury gaze focused on his pale partner before returning to Lorcan. The wolf had his nose pressed to the ground in search of the scent, but Greer did not follow suit. His frown deepened as the newcomer yipped in response to locating the trail. That was why he enjoyed his scouting missions with Celandine; she was not as boisterous as the wolf before them. Exhaling loudly through his nose he followed Lorcan as he continued forward after shooting Celandine a side-glance.

Celandine found herself following Lorcan, but hovering much more closely to Greer. She had no bias towards the inky male, but her subconscious wasn't particularly thrilled with the idea of the newest addition. It wasn't even until Lorcan stopped to whine in what had to be the most pathetic display she'd ever seen, that the woman glanced up. She thought to shoot a sly look at her dark companion before thinking better of it. They were not friends. They didn't share private moments, or inside jokes.

Much to her dismay Lorcan walked them through the steps as if they were cubs. She offered what she could without sounding downright bitchy, a feat that should have won her a medal. "Sounds simple enough." And then it was back to ignoring the world and taking orders from some lowly subordinate. Normally she would have enjoyed his submission, fed off of the power she felt as his tail lowered, but maybe she was tired. Yes, simply exhausted. That was it.

A yip told the pair that Lorcan had found something, to which Celandine couldn't help but look over at her companion. It would seem that he had shot her a glance of his own. Stifling the smile that threatened to crack the edges of her indifference, she too offered the newcomer a nod.

Lorcan smiled back as he caught both @Greer and @Celandine nodding along to his plan, with Celandine also confirming his idea through speech and Greer remaining silent as always. The pair of them seemed hardly eager to carry out the task, as they followed closely together behind him silently. Lorcan may have felt awkward about the situation had he not been so engrossed in completing his end of the deal. With a shrug of indifference made towards the silence, Lorcan lowered his nose to the ground and began to weave his way through the lowlands in search of his own trail. He moved at a comfortable jog, his tongue lolling from his jaws, as he breathed in the scent that scattered the ground as he moved. Occasionally he would pause, and glance back behind him, just to check that the silent pair were not too far behind him.

Time passed quickly, and by the time he tracked down his previous path through the tundra, it was the very early hours of the next day. Lorcan paused again, this time turning back to the pair behind him and offering them a nod and a chuff, as if to say that he had found it. Slowing his pace now, Lorcan was more hesitant as he traipsed along the path that lead out deeper into the lowlands towards the very spot he had briefly conversed with Askan, making sure to be quiet just in case the brute was still hanging around the area. Turning back to his superiors, Lorcan lowered his head and stopped, waiting for them to catch up. “You two can go ahead if you wish, I’ll hang back now.” He whispered softly as they neared him, before pointing his muzzle in the direction of the scent trail that he had been following.

Greer continued to watch the tawny wolf in silence, his curiosity fuelling his movements as he followed close behind. He could tell from the way Celandine trailed behind, just a few steps ahead of him, that she was not fond of their addition either. They were capable of completing the mission without the newcomer — either together or separately — and his presence was more of a burden than anything. Especially with that unnecessary (and irritating) yipping sound. Weren’t they trying not to attract attention to themselves? Lorcan did not seem to understand that.

Once the pair had caught up with the tawny wolf the new scent became more obvious, distracting the shadow from the words that spewed from the mouth of their ‘tour guide’. Maintaining his silence, Greer exhaled sharply through his nose a second time to indicate he had heard the tawny male. Without further adieu, he took a step forward, his mercury gaze focused on his pale comrade as he waited for her to take the lead. Greer did not mind falling behind the dove; she was a determined wolf and he did not like getting in her way. While he did not trust her fully, he still respected her. She was good at her job, and while the silver spider liked putting the two together, Greer knew that she could handle it on her own.

As Lorcan watched his two superiors stalk onwards through the lowlands, he felt a small pang of guilt that he wasn’t tagging along for the whole journey. The decision was not up to him though, as @Craw had specifically instructed that he keep out of the moonlight encounter. Watching the dark silhouette of Greer slink behind the pale figure of Celandine, Lorcan wagged his tail in admiration. “Good luck..” He whispered sincerely through the darkness as his golden eyes watched as their bodies were soon lost to the darkness the lingered hauntingly between him and them.

Turning around sharply on his heels, Lorcan gave one last glance back towards where the pair had left him, russet ears pricking as he listened out for any signs of trouble, and upon hearing nothing – for they were presumably too far away by now – Lorcan shook his pelt and began to gallop back to the pack lands of Whitestone Monadnock, following his instructions to return once the other two were on the right trail. Upon arriving back he planned to check by on Craw to let him know that, to his knowledge, the plan was running smoothly. After that, there was nothing more he could do but wait.

-Lorcan exits-

Drestig rarely slept well. Though he lay huddled with his mate and daughter, surrounded by the familiar, soothing scent of oak, he would toss and turn, waking with a start several times during the night. They had a home, a base for Percy to be safe, and even Askan and Icicle to help protect it. Yet the leader was anxious. He wanted a safe haven for his family, to build something on hope and happiness. He still didn't feel like he had achieved that, not to a degree where he could calmly sleep through the night. So he woke up for maybe the second or third time, jerking up his head and springing his eyes wide open. Frozen still, holding his breath, he listened, sure that something had disturbed his rest, and yet, as always, he heard nothing. Air escaped him in a low sigh, gaze drifting to the sleeping forms around him, all seemingly unmoved by his restlessness.

Askan was missing, but that was not unusual. The young wolf took his role in the forming pack seriously, patrolling as often as his would-be leader, when he wasn't taking turns looking after Percy. So his absence in itself was not worrying, and yet Drestig felt uneasy. Perhaps it was just his general anxiety, but he couldn't fall back asleep, and eventually decided to go looking for his subordinate instead. Trotting north through the swaying grass, the alpha's nose quivered as he searched for the freshest tracks of Askan's scent. Even in moonlight the land looked stunning, the golden rye turning silver under the stars, and the rising king grew constantly more sure of his choice, despite the close neighbors.

As a testament to this very thought, a gust of wind brought the scent of strangers to the elder male, along with the trail he had been following. Quickening his strides, Drestig hurried to the not-yet-border, eager to ensure both the safety of his family, and their foreign relations. Askan was on the line already, protecting it from the two strangers approaching, and his superior just managed to catch his, less than jovial, greeting. Now a lot of good could be said for the boy; But a diplomat he's not! Drestig found himself rather happy to have arrived as he did; "Easy… Askan," He managed to stop himself from using the usual 'kid', not wanting to belittle his second in front of the strangers; "No reason to make matters worse than they have to be." He muttered this last part under his breath, before turning bright, ember eyes to their visitors, raising ears and tail, but keeping his voice light as he addressed the two: "You'll excuse him, but it is awfully late for a social call..?"

Word count: 456

"Speech" Thoughts

Lorcán slinked away before he was noticed; the shadow responded to his encouragement with a soft wag of his tail. While the numbers would have been useful, it was not necessary. They did not even know if it was a pack that resided in the lowlands. Perhaps it was just a group of passing loners, trying to find somewhere to settle before the arrival of winter. However, the scents that lingered over the ground told a different story. They had been around much longer than a group of rogues would have been… A frown creased his lips, his mercury gaze falling to the dove at his side for a moment before refocusing on the trail ahead.

They were merely inspecting, observing; they did not want to be there for long. They were to report back to Craw so he could deal with the diplomacy side. That was not Greer’s department — especially considering his words were few and broken.

The scent of another grew heavier as they approached, filling the shadow’s nostrils and causing his forehead to crinkle. It was too late to tuck into the shadows — they had been spotted. And the wolf, his golden eyes piercing through the darkness, confronted them just as a pack wolf defending their borders would have. His brows rose, silently, as he took note of the inky wolf’s demeanour. There was something going on here, huh.

Greer glanced over at his partner with a calm expression in hopes that she would respond for ~~him~~them. However, she did not get a chance. Another wolf approached, their pelt just as dark as the firsts, though hints of white caught in the moonlight. His voice was much softer than the boldness of the first wolf, though his words held the same authority that he had heard in Craw and Morganna. Well, weren’t they lucky. Stifling a sneer from forming across his obsidian lips, the shadow observed the large wolf as he spoke, addressing the lateness of their visit. A social call. A brow lifted at the phrase, mercury gaze narrowing. “Heard wolves here,” he started, is voice like a blanket a silk as he shrugged. “Not wrong.” His head cocked, tongue clucking against the roof of his mouth. It seemed, much to his dismay, that the dove and the shadow had switched roles. He was doing the talking, and she the observing. His skin crawled. It did not feel right.