One would think that freedom from a cruel rule would be as sweet as honey, but that was a fools dream. Victarion wasn't sure how long he had been lost in this wood, but it was just like every other wood he'd stumbled upon since he abandoned his home and his duties long ago. Days had turned into weeks, and weeks had turned into months, and before long a year had rolled right on by. Although, he felt as though a lifetime had passed by him, he felt old and weary, and it made it impossible to enjoy this so called 'freedom' he'd sought out to begin with. Sure he had seen things, met others, but that never stopped him from keeping on the dusty trail to nowhere.

Finally, after having seen that same purple-berry bush one too many times, he stopped walking and glanced around. He couldn't be sure of whether it was midday or if the sun had started to set, but the humidity in the damp woods caused him to feel ever so slightly uncomfortable. His tundra blood was showing, heat and summer had never been his companions. Grumbling something foul beneath his breath, he turned in a circle and attempted to regain his bearings--however, he failed miserably. That was when he saw it. A crow. Perched ever so carefully above his head, staring down at him with beady, black eyes. Victarion hated crows. Noisy, mean, irritating scavengers that they were, the vile creatures reveled in the suffering of others and were never above playing audience. Without rationally considering the distance between himself and the tree canopy, Victarion launched himself from the ground and snapped his jaws at the unreachable bird. In response the bird merely fluffed its feathers and cawed uncontrollably--Victarion knew it was laughing at him, as he tumbled back to the earth with a thud.

The blisters on his paws burst with the impact of the landing and he snarled briefly in pain. The heat and the exhaustion from traveling was beginning to drive him mad, he knew that. Or at least he figured that was the way he must have looked to the pair of eyes watching him from a distance. His senses had rushed back to him the instant the pain in his feet woke him up, and it was around that point in time he had noticed he wasn't alone. Bracing himself, he turned on his aching feet to face the general direction of this stranger. "I hope you found that amusing, because I certainly didn't." He muttered gruffly. He was not in the mood to play hide and seek, he would either greet this wolf or scare them off, whichever came first.

Victarion remained still and quiet, utilizing whatever patience he had left to wait for this stranger to make themselves known or vanish altogether. Eventually, the she-wolf had the guts to reveal herself to him, and for that he had to manage some respect for her. Some had been too fearful of him to dare approach him in such a mood, but then again his name was not well-known in these parts, the wolves didn't known any better. Perhaps that was a sign for him to start over anew, but Victarion would have a devil of a time convincing himself of that. Returning his thoughts to the task at hand, he digested her response and pursed his lips together in a thoughtful manner.

"Hm." He grunted in response, shrugging his shoulders as he reclined back into a sitting position. It may have been arrogant, but Victarion was fairly relaxed in the company of such a petite wolf--he didn't get a murderous vibe from her either, so he wasn't all too concerned. He displayed his indifference by glancing around every now and then, not a worry in the world about taking his eyes off of her. However, her next statement drew his attention. It was hinted by the way his ear turned in her direction, and his gaze slowly followed after that. He met her striking green gaze with his own piercing gray one for a few moments, and it was at that point in time that he realized she was probably a healer of some sort. Either that or she wanted to maim him some more, which was a welcome challenge any day.

He took a moment before finally responding, "Do you make it a habit to show all strangers such generosity, or am I just lucky?" He hadn't fully intended for his question to seem so harsh, but it was just the hoarse sound of his voice that made it sound so. He cleared his throat awkwardly, but did not apologize. Reluctantly, he lifted his front left paw for her to examine, it was the one that throbbed the worst and for all he knew it was infected with some blood disease. He hoped it wasn't, it would be a disappointment for him to be taken out by some measly infection. He blinked a few times as she introduced herself, apparently they were now on a first name basis. It wasn't that bad, she didn't pose him any threat and was being polite, there was no sense in flat-out rejecting her. "Nina Hervok." He repeated quietly, before his rumbling response came. "Well, I don't know if it'll be much of a pleasure per se, but I'm Victarion Ironbelly."

Normally he wasn't a conversational sort, but there they were and he was in no condition to bound off back onto the dusty trail to nowhere in particular. "You're a healer." He said, rather than asked, although he was seeking some sort of affirmation.

Victarion observed her out of the corner of his eye as she slowly, but surely, approached him. She was a persistent one, he would give her that, she inspected his paw thoroughly and insisted on keeping a conversation going. He really shouldn't complain, but he was always at odds when meeting someone new. There was a certain process he needed to go through, he needed to assess them and act accordingly. There was no sense in having such a process if he did not make an effort to get to know someone, though, and he knew as much.

"You don't know anything about me." He replied quietly, brows furrowing into a slight scowl, "How do you know I'm so kind." It was a practical question, he had to make the assumption that she was younger than himself, and therefore more trusting. Or perhaps she was just sheltered as a child. Anything seemed like a better assumption than her being a genuinely charitable wolf. That, he found difficult to believe, if only because he had met so few.

Victarion glanced back down at her when she alerted him to the thorn in his paw, and his disdain for prickly bushes was renewed. It was strange, how such a big, burly wolf could have so much dislike for plants and crows, but it was just his way. Anything that caused him the slightest annoyance or trouble that was not of his kind, was instantly a nuisance. But the crows, those were his least favorite. "Well, you're the expert, go ahead." Curt as his words were, his tone had significantly relaxed, nor was he being sarcastic. Chances were she was part of a pack and training, or in-training at the very least.

"Where am I?" He inquired after a brief period of silence, "I'm not from around these parts, and I think I've suffered heat spell, so I've gotten turned around more than once." He was staring at that stupid, purple-berry bush as he spoke. The one landmark that he had seen so often that afternoon. "Do tell me you're familiar with the territory." He was still going along with the assumption she was from around these parts.

A muscle beneath the male's left eye twitched as she extracted the thorn. He refused to wince or whimper in pain, such behavior was for small children and weak wolves. Certainly not for him. Before he knew it, she had gone and wrapped his paw up nice and tight. It was only a dull ache and a fading memory to him now, just like every other flaw or mark upon his battlefield of a body. She seemed busy with tending to his foot, so he didn't press her to answer his questions quickly, although not the most patient of men, he was not daft or inconsiderate.

He surprised himself by the brief bark of laughter he released at her response. It was not a musical, nor joyous laughter, but it was laughter nonetheless. Dark, deep laughter better suited for a bear rather than a wolf, perhaps. "I don't believe I've given you any reason to think I'm kind either, but alas, I'm not going to try and change your mind." He shrugged his shoulders again before slowly pulling himself into a standing position. Once up, he arched his spine and stretched out, the few pops and cracks in his achy bones essential audible as he did so. However unpleasant it may have sounded, he felt significantly better once his back was properly stretched. He closed his gray-blue eyes at this point, relishing in the gentle breeze that rolled through the wood.

Without opening his eyes he responded, a curious, but sarcastic, hint to his tone, "Copper Rock Creek, hm? Must be a nice place to have such generous healers." Sounded homey and pleasant enough, it was probably a family-oriented sort of pack with all sorts of friendships and connections. Such a place seemed foreign to him, but a part of him yearned for it. A fraction of his soul yearned for such a place, for peace and quiet and a place to rest his head. Somewhere he didn't need to utilize bully tactics. He wanted to know more, but pride prevented him from asking. "No need to apologize, you've been more than help enough. More than what I'd expect from a common stranger." He paused briefly, "Although, Nina, I suppose we aren't strangers anymore."

He opened one eye and cleared his throat again, "The heat and the sun have given me a mighty ache in my skull." He admitted slowly. To Victarion, asking for help was not an easy task, but it seemed like the rational thing to do at the moment. His ear twitched at the sound of a crow cawing again, the vile creature had moved elsewhere but remained in the vicinity. He muttered a curse underneath his breath, before glancing at Nina once more, "Apologies."

ooc: no worries dude! all good to me. 8)

Victarion watched as she trotted off, sniffing around the bushes, she was on a mission to find something. He was thankful for her aid, and therefore his pride didn't hurt so much to have asked for it. Once she seemed to find what it was she was looking for, he was presented with a commonplace herb--although, for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was called. "Thank you." He murmured, almost gently, as he bent to sniff the leaves for himself. He had no reason to be suspicious of poison, but it was a force of habit nonetheless.

He listened patiently, as she quickly became quite a chatterbox regarding this Copper Rock Creek pack. Victarion wasn't surprised, as it was natural for one to be proud of their home and family. Or at least that was how a natural wolf pack should feel. As she spoke about her recruitment to the pack, he tentatively began to chew on the feverfew. The taste was awfully bitter for his own senses, but naturally the best medicine tasted the worst. "Nasty creatures." He agreed at the mention of the crows, his muzzle dipping in a slight nod and his gray-blue eyes darting to the tree canopy every now and then. By then he had finished up the feverfew, and was licking the remainder of it from his lips.

"You tell me things so easily, and yet I have given you little in return." He muttered suddenly, amongst the growing dark. Victarion was not big on talking, never had been even as a child, but when he did talk it was usually to get a point across. "For all you know I could be some fugitive, whose head is wanted by some faraway land. I wonder why you trust me so easily?" His voice was earnest and humorless, almost melancholy. There was a brief silence before he spoke again, "You said the borders aren't far...do you tell me these things because they're recruiting? Or is your information useless to me." Although blunt, it was a fair question. Victarion was never a fan of others wasting his time, healers or not.