She had had enough of their scent stinking up her borders and decided to track them back to their den, well, one of them anyway. The smaller limp bodies of the kits were strewn amongst the rocks as savage snarls filled the air. One of the parents had decided to return home and was decidedly angry about the carnage it had witnessed on its return.

The footing on the outcrop was precarious enough without being faced by an angry wolverine, but she had been the one that had come in search of this fight. With all the tension building around her, the fight, the Creek leader turning up on her borders, she needed a chance to simply be. To release some of the pent up darkness that was beginning to fester inside her.

A chance bite managed to tear her hide on her left shoulder, the burning pain drawing more angry snarls from the pregnant beast, but the stout parent defending her dead young was worse off. She wouldn’t risk one of her pups being taken by the scavengers once they were born. More angry snarls came to her ears from behind her it would appear daddy was home too. Now she was in trouble...

Paws on the spine at the top of the Earth - cold. Dark eyes only looked up, even at the top; he'd fall into the sky if he could, wrestle his gods down to die and laugh, laugh as the rocks fell and the sky became an empty void. Vafri would never tire with the taste of mountain wind; he was too lean and hungry, too full of wicked angles breaking sunlight all the pieces. Even as he danced to military marching under cloudy skies he shone pale on the mountain side, the very spirit of a dying winter landscape. Remnants of snow cracked and slipped beneath his paws; nimble, Vafri sprang onto a path made up of little more than folded earth and followed his own wistful thoughts to nowhere in particular. He reveled in the taste of freedom on the wind until the wind changed, and when it did his marching slowed as well to a near-silent dance of soft paws and the glint of eyeteeth raised in mild warning. Danger, spoke a voice at the back of his mind. Around the bend the wind called softly, mournfully, and on her voice black musk and blood flew tattered flags of warning. Vafri's hackles rose up in a single knife-sharp ridge, and above the white gleam of his teeth the big male's nose wrinkled. He barely recognized the thicker smell, but blood meant danger and he made a habit of avoiding death each day. Still, Vafri's ears cocked forward and the brittle stilts his legs had become creaked to bring him forward slowly, hungrily. The big wolf's stomach gurgled and his ears twitched back, and then he slunk along the ledge, his bellyfur a soft brush on the muddy ground, his ears up and down and up again as the male's stubby nose twitched. Sometimes death meant food... Sometimes big predators were stupid, sometimes... He saw them before they saw him. Now Vafri crept along the crooked path above a rocky ledge, his body little more than bones and hair and pressed so close into the earth he felt the dirt breathe, felt its heart beat down in the soles of his feet. Just below his quiet footfalls raged a battle fit for storytelling, for long nights on the silent tundra and the memory of song. She was large, thought the white wolf: thick of body, and the colors moved like rain across her coat as she lashed out, a perfect work of muscle, pain, and fury. Her enemy was of the sort his mother always told him not to cross: all rage and the flash of teeth and claws. He pitied this strange wolf for just a moment, wondered if he ought to make a story just to keep her memory alive. It was a sad thing for a wolf to die alone, and Vafri was no company to go out with. He let out a breath, and crept with long strides ever nearer, ears pricked now and dark eyes gleaming. Oh, you can fight, he thought. Fight until your heart bursts. There was something beautiful about the valiant scrabbling back from the edge of death, even in deer - moreso in wolves. The white wolf then was almost too relaxed in putting shoulder to a nearby rock and pushing, muscles taut as razor wire underneath the fluffy tangle of his coat. Little pebbles scattered underneath the big rock - big enough to weigh almost as much as him, and maybe crush a wolverine - and then the thing began to lean and groan and topple down, he hoped, onto the sneaky one now inching up behind the brave wolf. "Whoops," he chuckled to himself, dark eyes bright with mirth despite the smell of blood and pain and fear all seeping up from down below. He was up high, after all, and had just dropped part of a mountain on something else's face. There was little need for him to worry, unless wolverines could survive falling rocks and also fly up to the ledge where he stood relatively safe.

It would appear somebody had passed by the scattered carnage she left in her wake as the unknown scent of loner passed her nose. Though whether the stranger was friend or foe was yet to be determined. Any wolf with half a brain knew wolverines were not taken on lightly and could just as easily tear a wolf to shreds as a wolf could do the same to them, but 50/50 odds weren’t bad when you had babies to protect.

The second foe was closing in and the scent of stranger grew stronger as the sound of shifting pebbles alerted her to the strangers presence at her back as a large rock shifted and fell, crushing the wolverine at her back. Taking the opportunity now her main adversary was distracted, sharp teeth closed about stout neck and shook for all she was worth. The little beasts were tougher than boar. If only she could find a way to break its neck...

The little hellion was not to be defeated so easily however and frantically clawed at her face, opening several small cuts on her maw. Frustrated rage and lack of patience sealed the creatures fate as the tawny wolf shook the creature and let go, sending its wreathing form flying over the edge of the outcrop until it landed with a resounding crack. A quick glance over the edge proved this was one wolverine that would not be stinking up her borders again any time soon.

A quick glance upward showed her a skeletal wolf of white, and a ready smile crossed her face. ”Thank you friend.” she called out happily, wondering if perhaps there was a way she could repay his intervention. He looked as if a good meal wouldn’t go astray... perhaps she had stumbled across a new recruit?

Crunch, and he could almost taste the bloody paste below as mountain trumped bone, and brute force conquered brains in the most literal sense. Vafri's lips curled back again to bare his curved teeth in a grin. Though necessity had long ago done much to cultivate his passive side, he was still wolf and knew the joy in hot blood spilling out into the frosty air. The big wolf only wished the air was colder, fit to freeze the red stuff to the earth, to breed steam over pools of red and still lakes and his own hearty breath. He stood up on the ledge with triumph thrilling in his every fervid heart beat, and the she-wolf broke her enemy upon the rocks in truly righteous fashion, and for an instant even here beneath the heavy sky they were gods of their own, tyrants fit to break life down as it rose up against them. He chuckled, and his tail flicked just before he gathered up his bundle of thin legs and flowed down toward the she-wolf. Every step was nimble grace; he knew how to dance if nothing else, and how to play the showman now that danger had long passed, usurped by cleverness and gravity and pure, brave violence. He landed hard, the shock of meeting solid earth again after so brief a fall resounding up his paws, but Vafri shook the feeling down and spared a glance toward his kill. The big wolf's tongue swept out just long enough to lick his lips, to taste the metal scent of blood now thickening on the air, before he spared one coffee colored eye for his new friend. She was a friend, he thought, for all the blood they had just spilled. A battle worthy of a quiet night, a memory for days of snow - but with snow just behind him and the springtime furling out ahead he stowed these dreams and spoke up. "Least I could do," Vafri nodded. His ears flopped just slightly when he did that, pricked though they were. "Are you injured?" And he might have been a little drunk on tiny victories, but as he sat back on his haunches Vafri felt rather accomplished. He took a moment of quiet to study the she-wolf, noting again the thick drag of her belly and the crimson flowing soft as velvet from her wounds. She smelled of fresh red too, but softer - rankling. "I don't know anyone who'd choose to go up against wolverines - and win. Help or no," he added just a bit more soberly, respect lining the normal singsong cheer of Vafri's tone. The big male made a point of avoiding her eyes, his own gaze sweeping at the ground, the free air just beyond a multicolored shoulder.

Injuries she held, though none in dire need. She was thankful their latest recruit was also a healer, it would make the task at hand far less laborious once she managed to limp her way home. A tear in her shoulder, scratched up muzzle and a sore rear paw from stepping on an overly sharp rock... but at least she hadn’t been squashed by a boulder... ”I will be ok. I am a healer and so is one of our newest recruits. Nothing dire.” she reassured the pale man with a smile.

He seemed to be about her age, underweight to be sure, but which of the poisoned wolves hadn’t been at some point? He walked sure-footed, a beast of the mountain to be sure. His next statement bought a smile to her face. ”They aren’t the first, and they won’t be the last.” she said confidently. It was true she had been raised around a sizable population of the tenacious beasts and while she didn’t always win, she hadn’t lost enough to give up trying.

His demeanour was friendly enough, respectful even and she made up her mind. Company would be welcome on the walk home to say the least, and who knew, he may decide to stay? ”You know, if you could bring yourself to a walk down to the lake I’m sure we could spare some goat for your assistance and company.” She didn’t want to come across too strongly just yet, best to learn some more before opening your doors to strangers.

Healer? The white male's head gave a little jerk. Full of surprises, this one! He chanced a look at her face then, the cool depths of his eyes alight with curiosity and something else, the same awed glimmer that awoke when Vafri faced the sky - muted here. He blinked, and his gaze flickered off again to dwell on vistas just over one tan and cream streaked shoulder. He knew only a little about pack things - facts and thoughts all half remembered from his time with family - but the fear of causing upset was a real thing at the forefront of his mind with every meeting. Someone as well accomplished as this large female woke up instincts of self preservation in him, and proud though he was he quickly began swallowing these feelings, calculating the emotion in her voice and watching - watching small things like the tension in her legs, the placement of her tail. His own fluffy sat relaxed, and his head hung low despite Vafri's considerable height. Those large ears of his kept trained on her voice, however, and he answered with a brief nod after the initial moment of surprise. Brave, he thought, and tilted his head. Very brave. She hardly needed to bolster her image in his eyes, but admitting to a lifetime of hunting wolverines sure drew a swift, ironic smile from the male. "Glad I'm not a wolverine," he joked and then stood up to shake the dust from his messy coat, scattering a small cloud along with bits of twig and grass. He felt very skinny suddenly, very strange and naked here on the mountain alongside someone with such self-assurance. For all his grandeur Vafri never would be one to feel the confidence he showed; it was a pang of jealousy deep down in him, something even the male went unaware of. "I'm certain I would love a walk down to the lake," he said immediately at the mention of food. "Goat or no." But the thought made his mouth water even more than curiosity had, and those dark eyes of his sparked as Vafri turned to eye the narrow trail down from their ledge, the switchback cuts all down the mountain. He was glad to be a wolf and not something taller, something hoofed and clumsy. "Who is 'we,' though? Have you got a pack of warriors?"

An appreciative smile crossed her face at his joke, accompanied by tinkling laughter which hadn’t passed her mouth for far too long. She could see him fitting in quite fine with her little family... And then he asked about them. ”I suppose my mate might be considered a warrior, although I am yet to see him in action, and my second, Athena, has more than proven her worth. Ava is a wonderful hunter and student, Chantille, well I haven’t had much of a chance to get to know her yet...” Yes, there were a lot of females in her little family, and she hoped that would change soon.

It was a reasonable hike down to the Lake but she decided she may as well extend an invitation now, to give the man time to think it over and ask her any questions he may have before they arrived at their final destination. ”We could always do with some more males though. You would be more than welcome if it was something you might consider. Hunting is so much easier with company, particularly given the terrain. You would be free to wander as you willed, all we would ask is for your loyalty, and it would be returned by all who reside within our borders.” She left her tone conversational, but the underlying message was clear. She was offering him a home and allies, if he chose to take it.

He was silent when she spoke about her pack, his big ears tilted forward and his dark eyes thoughtful. Part of Vafri was a little let down that she didn't hail from a secret sect of warriors, but the realistic side of his brain (however powerless) expected the simple version in some limited capacity. Athena, Ava, and Chantille were added to his comprehensive list of names Vafri committed to remembering for no particularly solid reason, and he nodded. Yes, a lot of females. But it wasn't much his business anyway; he didn't care about the way she ran her pack, he was just a loner running about in the mountains trying not to die. It was of course a harsh surprise then when the strange female continued, and for all that Vafri dared to let his guard down the big wolf stiffened just a little in response to her offer. He might not fear the wolverines or the heights or bad footing, but the sudden suffocation that came partnered with her offer was a danger in and of itself, and he ducked his head to stare at something else - a little bush growing on the cliffside, a rock split halfway down the path - all unassuming and unthreatening compared to the sudden buzzing in his head. "Hm?" He was caught off-guard here, and not sure how he should respond. No one had ever wanted him quite badly enough to straight-up ask that he join their family. No one had ever been saved by him from wolverines, either, of course... But suddenly there was a need to contradict her trust, to make her understand that he was Vafri and he ran away from home quite long ago and no, he was not trustworthy and no, he was not good at hunting and overall he was a liability and not at all something she wanted sticking around. "You don't even know who I am yet," answered Vafri with a meager grin. He thought now would be as good a time as any for him to up and disappear, but he was no ghost and the longer he kept pretending to be one the thinner the tenuous grip he held on his existence. "You must be desperate." Despite the jovial nature of his tone, he still stood stiff and uncomfortable, eyes shifting - restless. There may be a hundred ingrained reasons to say no, but there were still a thousand to say yes... things like practicality and wanting more than anything just to stay alive. Living alone was hard; it showed in the ribs beneath his matted coat. Vafri uttered a sigh. "And I barely know you," he added. "But my name is Vafri. Vafri Seigaldr. I'm a storyteller, and I don't make a habit of fighting things. Just telling tales and singing at the sky." One ear twitched in mild embarrassment; he was rarely so frank, but if ever there was a time to be honest it was when he felt threatened by his own misrepresentation of himself. "I think I'd like to meet this pack of yours before I promise them my loyalty." The big wolf's tongue swept out to lick his lips again, but nervously. I just want my goat.

His words of almost warning bought a smile to her face. She had never been a particularly cautious wolf, a fact that seemed to drive her mate insane. ”Well Vafri, I am Naira, Aquila...” It was the first time she had said the name out loud and while it felt strange on her tongue, she smiled. ”And I don’t need to know much of you to know I like you, so the others should as well. The offer will stand for as long as you wish to consider it.” It had been her general experience so far that they were an agreeable bunch for the most part.

”Vafri, we have fighters, we have hunters, we do not have a bard.” she smiled at the pale wolf with the deep, dark eyes. They were getting closer now, and no doubt Athena would be waiting for her, ready to scold her for taking off alone again. The lake came into sight and her soul sung for home. As the ground began to even out, she moved purposefully to a spot where she had stored the remnants of a recent kill. It wasn’t one of their usual caches so she had no quabbles with hiding the location from the loner.

She was enjoying his company, and decided to wait and see if he had any more questions, or if one of her pack mates would intervene. At least if she was there, they would know he was eating by her invitation.