April 25th; Early afternoon; Cloudy, slight breeze, light rain; 37° F/3° C.

Weary limbs and elbows, having grown accustomed to the softness of soil, sand, and loam, ached as the Advisor of Nomads Pass sank down into a sphinx-like position on the wind-scoured stone that made up the packlands. In the shade of a single tree that grew alone on the cliffs overlooking one side of Relic Lore, he sighed contentedly to himself. Another spring storm was coming but it was apparent in the air and the gentleness of the breeze that no thunder would accompany it as it had the last time the rains had come. He was supposed to be resting after having returned Datura home, but with Naira due sometime in the next couple of weeks or so, he felt better in knowing that she was somewhere resting while he refurbished the markers that had gone unattended to in his absence. The sooner he got back to his regular routine, the better.

With Taima Lyall as his self-proclaimed ward - he had found her with Datura, after all, and could only accept the responsibility in making sure she learned the ways of the Pass backwards and forwards - he felt the need to recollect himself now that he was back on familiar soil. Truth be told, Datura was right... the girl talked a lot and Mapplethorpe had to fully recoup before he even attempted the task of grooming her into a proper, more suitable mate for Naira's first-born son. Ever so slowly, he rested his silvery chin between his wrists, leaning his head slightly into his left forelimb. Behind him his ragged tail swept one way then another before pressing up against his right hock.

Mapplethorpe's yellow-ringed pupils disappeared behind mousy-brown lids as he exhaled. It seemed for a while his lack of sleep had finally caught up to him, but he jolted himself awake within mere seconds of closing his eyes. Twice. Scenting the air offhandedly as he lifted his head again, he drew his ears upward, wiling himself to stay awake. A shake of his ruff seemed to do the trick and with pushing himself up into a rather regal sitting position, he scanned the slopes below the ledge, watching and listening for passing rogues, wayward intruders, or even fellow pack mates.

Up and down the ragged slopes he scrutinized the small puddles that were forming here and there, the tips of the trees that had seemingly awoken at last from their winter slumber, and the slight swaying of the sparse patches of grass. It appeared that the Pass had been quiet while he was gone aside from the pack acquiring a couple of recent additions; and, while he was thankful that @Naira had been all right, he had yet to see and meet either of the new wolves. Leaning forward and kicking back his hind limbs to stretch them out, he readied himself to leave his post, thinking it was due time that he made his way to his next preferred watch point.

He came to conclusions a tad too quickly, for as soon as he turned on his heel to saunter away, something that sounded like paws against stone, pulled at his ears. He walked back over to the edge, practically frowning as his eyes caught sight of a black marbled back against the slope. His hackles, now merely bent spikes from the downpour, rose as an initial reaction but eventually they eased back down along his spine. Before the woman could come any closer, he let out a plain bark that let her know that he had just seen her. A tad too wary, perhaps, but he hoped it would call her attention to him and let her know he was there.

A terrible snarl was starting to build up in his throat and he fought hard to keep it down. She wasn't trespassing (...yet) and he was simply ready to make certain that the wolves of Nomads Pass (and his Naira) would be honored by the deeds was about to execute in the upcoming encounter. Mapplethorpe watched until she mounted the crest of where he had been perched. "HALT!" he half-growled at her, turning to face her directly as his tail lifted in a prominent arch. "State the nature of your business here."

Mapplethorpe watched the woman intently, mentally playing in his head all the possibilities of her response to his bark until he saw her recoil. He sniffed then let out a small puff of air through his nose, a nearly inaudible snort. Exceptional enough... She hastily provided him with an answer but just by looking at her, watching how she behaved, and judging by the dampened blend of scents that wafted in his direction, it came as no surprise. Of course, she was a wanderer. And, though, he flatly assumed she had been looking for a place to call home, he was rather glad his presumptions were correct.

When no more words were spoken, he took a moment to gaze at her suspiciously out of the corner of his eye while he took several deep breaths in attempt to garner an telltale aromas that would tell him about her travels or where she had come from. What did surprise him, however, was that she predominantly smelled of the Mountain. The distrustful look on his face did not leave his grizzled features when he looked at her straight on again, but his tail did lower into a more relaxed position. For once, he actually wondered, what would happen if he stopped questioning and doling out riddles in exchange for a, perhaps, decent conversation.

A genuine smile dared to nearly touch the thick, saturated lines underneath his eyes. "Home isn't always a place," he told her gently. "What makes you think that you might find it up here?" His wet mop of a tail managed a wag, sending droplets that had soaked into it to the stones at his back.

His first impression of her, with all the gestures of compliance and an air of timidity, had him thinking the longer he stared at her. "You aren't encroaching on my land," he admitted, gesturing with a nod of his head to where she stood. "A couple feet and you just might have..." As much as he wanted to take a step towards her, he kept still, not wanting to startle her in the slightest. "Stand up straight," he commanded her, his voice gaining that rough edge again. "Let me see you."

The silvered Advisor mulled over her answer as she obeyed him, allowing him to look her over from a distance. To him, the coloration of her pelt - even with its stark black saddle-like pattern - wasn't particularly out of the ordinary, but it was unique enough to set her apart from all the other wolves of his past and present. Her small, petite build specifically caught his interest though; slight limbs meant light steps and he was sure that she was built for stamina, it not small bursts of speed. Even with her being soaked to the bone, she seemed healthy; it was even apparent to him that she managed to keep her wits about her. She was a fine specimen overall in his book... After several seconds, he gave her a nod even though he realized she held herself in a mostly comfortable stance. It was a straightforward kind of gesture, as if he were giving her the "okay" that it was thoroughly appropriate to be "at ease," and came back to her question.

"There are no wolves who serve Hidden Tree here," he smoothly and partially lied. Mapplethorpe might have considered himself a keeper of lore and knowledge but, at present, he knew very little of the packs who did and once had inhabited Relic Lore. In all truth, he didn't even know if the wolves at the collective meeting of Lore packs came from, descended from, or maybe conquired Hidden Tree. He made a mental note to enlighten himself on that matter as soon as Naira was well enough after bearing the upcoming cubs of Nomads Pass. The male had to give it to her, though... that she was indeed clever enough to have come to such a logical explanation that this was where this "Hidden Tree" pack resided. It had never occurred to him until now that the tree that served as his vigil point could barely be seen from the foot of the slope.

His smile ebbed away and he noticed now just what kind of state of her pelt was in. "If you're looking for shelter, there are some caves at the foot of the mountain," he informed her with the sway of his tail, subtly insinuating that she wasn't welcome to the meager shelter by provided the spindly tree behind him. "But... why is it that you search for them?" The slight scowl that marred his face began to touch his grizzled features again, wondering now just what made the coveted pack so desirable to her.

The woman's answer about knowing the Hidden Tree wolves were a successful, thriving pack made his brow quirk upward slightly but only just. From where he had hailed from, a pack was usually wealthy and even envied by many a lone wolf. The old man did, however, understand her desires to see for herself whether or not her assumptions were true. He actually would have done the same with his current Leader's pack, if he had not been unknowingly caught up in her schemes by her mate.

"Fair enough," he opined. He made a half-step to one side, his limbs itching to leave but not yet wanting to leave the rogue until he was certain she was going to seek out a place of refuge where he had told her to look. ”If I may ask, who is it you serve, Stranger?” The question would have caught him off-guard he hadn't been initially expecting her to shoot right back at him.

No one, he ached to say, but instead the proper, truthful, and more impressive answer came to the surface, ready to cull. "I... serve a great Queen who lives and reigns on these peaks." Looking over her drenched frame once again with a gaze gone cold, the sides of his muzzle began to twitch as though he remembered that he had more important things to do than entertain some solitary soul. It took more than a few moments but Mapplethorpe was able to recover himself, though his tone was no longer as indulgent or as calm. Instincts awaking within him were beginning to cry out for him to remind her that she was eating up his precious time. "...and she does not take kindly to those who have the mind to gallivant over her mountain in search of concealed arboreal havens."

"I am a very important man, miss, I must let you know," he then imparted, striding forward. His tail curled upwards again and the judgmental stare made itself apparent on his face. He repeated slowly, "There are no Hidden Tree wolves here, and I will tell you one more time that more suitable places of sanctuary are back down from where you came from. Now that I know who and what you seek, I can assure you that I have nothing that you might want; and, I am going to ask you to leave..."