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the name of the game - Desideria - Apr 20, 2015
So far from home, and yet, she finds herself upon the banks of rushing water once more. How poetic, the rogue thinks dryly, casting amber eyes upon the large cliff. Her thick tail lashed behind her as the female huffed a single breath, cheeks billowing out as she stared onwards. As beautiful as it was, it would not make a suitable denning site. Had she not almost drown in her last burrow, thanks to a sudden flood, she might have found the artistry more appealing. Alas, the world was not such an innocent place, and Desderia was not such a blinded pup anymore.
Of course, that did not prevent her from exploring such a place. A home was not her immediate concern – there were trees to sleep under, nice rock croppings that would prove a fine shelter from any distasteful weather. What she needed more was food, hydration, and after those immediate interest, she would be most behooved to seek out allies. Creeping towards the pooling shallows, a pink tongue flashed out to lap up her fill. The cool water came as quite a relief, and once her belly felt as full as a water skin, she retreated to watch the fish swim.
"I wonder what they taste like," she murmured to no one in particular, tail sweeping across the ground like a poor duster. The timber wolf had half a mind to try, if she hadn't the notion it would cost her more energy than she'd gain. She'd have better luck with a chipmunk…or a bird. Just as she gathered herself to hunt, she caught scent of a stranger.
"Who's there?"
RE: the name of the game - Anders - Apr 20, 2015
He'd only caught sight of her a moment before she'd spoken; Anders had found her scent and had trailed it to the stream of water from which he assumed she'd been drinking, as still a few droplets clung to the whiskers around her lips. He made no effort to conceal himself, as he had not intended to pursue her only to sit in the shadows and watch. He wasn't terribly surprised that she'd caught his scent, as the wind had been going against him the entire time, but this too was his intention. He did not want her to think he was trying to conceal himself, as he did not want her to feel stalked or hunted. So he moved forward, never pausing in his slow, relaxed walk, emerging from the brush about twenty metres away from her as he neared the water. He turned his head to her to acknowledge her presence and gave her a slight dip of his long, proud muzzle, and finally took sight of the female he'd been tracking for about an hour.
She would blend in well with the flora in autumn, he imagined. Her coat was a dusty, tawny brown with hues of copper and cinnamon reminding him of the leaves of a sugar maple in fall. Her eyes too seemed to carry on this autumn theme, as they were a pale orange in hue. She looked healthy and fit, though he could tell by her scent that she was alone, and had been for some time. This was not a pack wolf, which was what he'd hoped for. Still, if she knew anything about the area, he could still learn something from her. At least she had good senses and did not allow herself to become prey. He'd gauged by the tone in her voice that she did not appreciate being stalked.
"Anders," He said quietly, eyes lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned his head, crouched and began to drink from the water, almost the way that a panther might. He felt no threat from her, and had given himself enough space from her so that he could drink in peace and leap to his own defense should she make any swift movements. He'd noted the scars on her face, and the way her ear had been torn, and had made the assumption that she'd gotten herself into trouble in the past. And she hadn't won- afterall, why would she be a lone wolf with scars if not for some sort of trouble? Still, the past was the past. And as long as she was a sound wolf, he didn't read into her scars too deeply. What he watched for now, as he drank, was a reaction.
RE: the name of the game - Desideria - Apr 20, 2015
Only after her request did the other wolf emerge, and when he did, the loner found herself troubled not to stare. He was…large. Much more sizeable than herself (which wasn't saying much, she knew, she was a delicate, dainty thing), which did not bode well for her chances. Scrambling to her feet lest she need to flee with great brio, she held her tail straight out, ears ticking behind her head as concern lingered in her bright eyes. With his intention unknown, Desideria could only fear for the worst, and did not take her gaze off the man for a single moment. Only when he bent to sample the water she drank from moments ago did she finally speak.
"Hello, Anders," she greeted him warily, head tipped to one side as she watched. Pink tongue flicked out subconsciously, brushing beads of water away from her earthy muzzle. "Nice name, y'know? I'm Desderia. Des. 'er, Dezzy, I like Dezzy," she finally admitted, paws rooted to the ground as she studied the other wolf. He was…well, other than being utterly massive, he wasn't hard on the eyes. The man was dark, dark like midnight, speckles like stars and galaxies draped across his spine. He wore known of the marks or blemishes she did, and it could mean one of two things. The man took calculates risks and won his encounters – or he lived a life entirely less invigorating than hers, and simply never took on an adventure in his life.
Smiling wryly, she did hope it wasn't the latter.
"Soooo," she drawled, the silence beginning to stifle her. "You from around here? 'er live here?"
RE: the name of the game - Anders - Apr 20, 2015
The sudden flurry of movement from the female gained no more of a reaction from the male than the tilt of one dark ear. He could see her out of the corner of his eye- although not clearly- and could tell she'd simply taken to her feet in a defensive gesture. He did not show any sort of reaction to this, aside from one ear, as he was fairly confident that he could take care of himself should she launch an attack. He'd judged her size and knew he could overpower her. And if those scars in combination with her lone wolf status meant anything, it could mean that she was perhaps not the best fighter. He was aware that she was watching him carefully, and he allowed her to do so. He felt quite relaxed as he drank from the water, and felt that this might calm her as well. He had no need to flaunt his power over her; he wanted nothing from her that he would need to take with force.
When she spoke, he could still sense her anxiousness. It seemed to the brute as though she was attempting to appease him by complimenting him on his name, which gained a dark sort of chuff from him. "Thanks," He said, his tone earnest, but then a moment later, he drawled: "It was a birthday present." He took in her name- and its several variants and nodded before he continued to drink. He wasn't sure, now, whether she was anxious or whether it was a part of her nature to speak quickly. There was something unsettling about her, like a fuse that rested too close to a candle, but he wasn't terribly concerned. If the fuse belonged to anything, he didn't fear it.
"No," He said, finally withdrawing from the water's bank and lifting his head as he sat down. "I've been travelling. I'm looking for a pack," he said, having nothing to hide. "I don't suppose you know the area either, Dezzy?" He asked, tone lingering for a moment on the name she'd chosen as her favourite.
RE: the name of the game - Desideria - Apr 20, 2015
"Hah!"
Des barked her laughter, something other than suspicion dancing in her sunshine eyes. If he had a sense of humor, surely the stranger couldn't be all bad. Where she stood with suspicion, he simply oozed confidence, and something about this was contagious. Her ears swiveled forward, posture becoming more attentive than it was preservative, and she allowed herself a pleased hum. "Seems to me like someone gifted you a sharp wit, too," she replied, her own sense of whimsy emerging with the invitation.
Still, the loner was not foolish enough to move from her spot, lest he be a spider using honey to lure the fly. (And thanks but no thanks, she was not interested in being anyone's prey, no matter how swarthy or mysterious.) The silence reigned until he had finished his drink and settled himself upon the bank, reclining near the water's edge as he finally offered her some attention. Curiosity intrigued (and self preservation shoved to the back burner), she took a few steps closer and sat herself.
Anders would still be forced to take a stride or two, but if there was one disadvantage to such bulk, it was lack of speed, or agility. If she must, Dezzy had no doubt she could outrun or out-maneuver the other wolf. There was no shame in a hasty retreat if it meant she stayed whole and healthy. (She wasn't keen on losing her second ear, after all.)
"Looking for a pack? One to join, or one in particular?" she asked, despite her inability to help in either case. New to the forest of Relic Lore, she'd been looking for allies or employment herself, not particularly keen on roughing it much longer. She'd always been part of a group – a familial band, yes, but it still provided her with the company (and commentary) of others. There were also packs, of course, though not ones she…ended on pleasant terms with, but that meant little. "Naw, not well. Just this part, yanno? Been checking it out. Looking for a group myself, actually, but I am a wolf of particular talent and not…everyone appreciates said skill," she replied, her grin wolfish. "Takes a certain sort. But it's better than being a loner. More opportunity."
RE: the name of the game - Anders - Apr 20, 2015
He hadn't intended to be terribly funny, but it seemed as though Dezzy had a good sense of humour, the type that thirsted for something, anything to laugh at. Anders was far from being similar in this way, though he did appreciate dark or dry humour privately. In response, though, because he was one to humour another, he clicked his tongue against his teeth. "I was a spoiled child, then," He said, but no smile remained on his lips. He was, afterall, the pup his mother had chosen to save out of a litter of four when the wildfire had hit. It still weighed on him. Despite having been the only pup to be saved, he hadn't exactly been spoiled, so the words had been spoken with a somewhat sour tinge of regret. The noble beast in him, if it existed, wished he could have traded places with one of his siblings, from time to time. But at the same time- he couldn't remember them. He'd only been days old when the fire had taken place.
She came a bit closer but again he didn't react. His intentions were fairly clear- he had none. Once again she began to speak, and he gathered that she was somewhat taken by dancing around the point. He waited for her to finish speaking- and made a small mental note that she was obviously fishing for him to ask what her special skill was- before he responded. "Looking for a pack to join." He said, though he thought he'd made it obvious enough when he'd spoken earlier, but after a moment's consideration he realized perhaps she thought he was looking for a pack he'd heard of, or knew that someone live in and he forgave her for asking what he'd once considered to be a redundant question.
She wasn't terribly well spoken, and seemed to speak with a bit of a twang, something that hinted perhaps that her parents had not been either very educated, or high in the heirarchy of their pack. Or perhaps she'd left the pack before she could be taught to speak formally when meeting someone, though he suspected that she simply didn't care how she was viewed by others. He imagined that this woman had a bit of a rebellious streak in her, perhaps a foolish streak too. She'd mentioned having a particular skill that packs didn't seem to like, which made him frown slightly. He did not like having wolves in a pack who were tricksters, or who did not contribute. "Perhaps you ought to hone some more desirable skills if you want to join a pack," He prompted, deciding it was perhaps better not to encourage her to take pride in whatever folly it was she liked to indulge in.
RE: the name of the game - Desideria - Apr 20, 2015
Anders was a clever one, it seemed, and were the small female gifted with the ability to read minds, she'd be able to tell him how close he was to the truth. She was raised without a pack and by a mother who made her life dishonestly. No matter how she felt on the matter, Desideria was fated to mimic Desdemona – though she would be damned if she made the same mistakes. She loved her dam, it was true, but she had little desire to be chained to tiny pups without another soul to help her raise them. But the massive wolf wasn't wrong – she was rebellious, foolish, and she didn't have enough care in her to give a rat's ass over a stranger's impression.
She offered him a smile at the unsolicited advice all the same, tipping her head to one said. "Suppose you aren't wrong. But what's another hunter to a pack that's got four? Or another pup sitter to a pack that has a doting mother and loving aunts, yanno? Not everyone appreciates it, but at least it's useful, and not everyone has it." The timber wolf gave a single-shouldered shrug, ears rotating as she gave it another thought. What she else she could offer, she was unsure. A life of thievery was all she knew – and while she played a major role in raising her brothers, she was certain no pack would want such a mangled female as a nanny. Besides, she was a tiny thing! No use in an honest fight, and little use in a hunt outside of bait and chase – her knowledge of plants was minimal, and—
The female chuffed, ears flattening as she realized she was allowing Anders to play with her intentions. She would find her way, as she always had, regardless of one man's opinion on her skillset. "There're lots of packs southwards of here. Came up to the forest that way – I could smell them. Avoided the borders, though. Figured it was better to be fed and watered before seeking out any alphas." Tipping her head to one side, she finally inquired the question gnawing at her. "What're you gonna offer, Anders? Outside of sharp tongue and noting the obvious – both admirable traits, of course."
RE: the name of the game - Anders - Apr 21, 2015
For her to try to reason against the use of an additional hunter in a pack hinted to Anders that she did not have much pack experience, or grow up in a pack that had a sufficient amount of wolves with different roles within the pack. His ears flicked back when she suggested that four hunters would be more than enough, and that one wolf could rear a litter of pups on their own without help. To this, he merely frowned, and brought his gaze to her again. "Then best of luck to you," He said, sincerely hoping that she could make herself useful with whatever skill it was she said she had. But whichever pack decided to take in a wolf who could not offer simple services was not a pack, he decided, that he necessarily wanted to be a part of.
She did offer him some information about packs in the south, though this wasn't terribly helpful. There was plenty of land to the south- almost an unimaginable expanse, and here she was simply telling him there were some in that direction. He assumed she meant nearby, though, and nodded curtly. He pursed his lips lightly when she asked what he could offer and found a bit of humour in the situation. "I'm just another hunter. Another guardian." He said, tongue curling around the words as he watched her expression for an answer. He knew he was exactly what she'd spoken about only moments earlier, but he saw no shame in confessing that this was exactly who he was.
He rolled his shoulders beneath his pelt and turned his gaze south for a moment, considering that option. She knew about those packs, though...But there was no guarantee she'd want to be in the same pack as him, either. He turned his dark green gaze back to her and tilted one shoulder toward her. "Nothing special."
RE: the name of the game - Desideria - Apr 21, 2015
"Oh, s'that all?" the woman snorted, ears held flat behind her skull. She did not offer teeth or an accompany snarl, only the peevish expression of a female talked into a corner. "Imagine you'll have much better luck at that. I mean, look at you! You probably was as much as a buck to begin with. That's the kind of wolf a pack wants, yanno? I ain't got a chance as a hunter with the likes of you around."
It was possible, she supposed, that he lacked the proficiency to be a deerstalker. That was a very unlikely prospect, however, given his large size and the general sheen of his coat. Anders did not look like a particularly hungry animal, nor one who'd lost as many contests as she had. How that would bode for him as a guard, it was hard to say – he was either incredibly proficient or lacked actual scrapping experience, but that was for his future alpha to judge. Regardless, the timber wolf felt the man's outlook was not hindered by that. His pitch as a hunter was an appealing one.
With a wry smile, she quickly cast off any notions that he were a far more likely candidate. Gauche as she was, she was a particularly accommodating individual, even in matters that would offed more mannerly wolves. It would land her a place, she knew, and if it didn't-- "Suppose I could always function as a scout. Keen eyes and quick legs. Never done that before, but can't knock something 'til you try it at least twice, yeah?"
Getting back to her paws, Desideria tipped her head at her taciturn companion. "I was thinking of heading north, myself. Not interested in being a loner too long – and there are packs to the south, but…there's no dearth of packs in these woods, I think. I want to know my choices before I commit." She wasn't desperate enough to throw herself at the first band who crossed her path. "You know what you're looking for, Anders? In a pack, I mean. Which way you're headed?"
RE: the name of the game - Anders - Apr 23, 2015
It seemed as though Anders had been able to get under her skin with s flippant a comment as the one he'd made. Her tone of voice indicated what he perceived to be agitation and perhaps a bit of spite. Maybe she was tired of wolves- wolves like him, he imagined- setting the typical example for how a wolf should be in a pack when she was the type who naturally broke the mould without even trying to do so. His expression remained as calm as it had been before, unruffled by her exclamation which he felt was somewhat immature, though given the way he'd been egging her on, it was by no fault of her own that she felt snubbed. Anders knew he'd rubbed her fur the wrong way and that his type A personality didn't quite mesh with hers. She was much more of a free spirit, like a green-broke filly who took relief in having their bridle being removed. He didn't begrudge her for having this way of living- it simply was different than his.
She seemed to temper herself, though, and as Anders had suggested, found in herself the likelihood of becoming a scout. To this, he nodded, ears turning forward. This was a way of thinking that he could identify with; take those qualities she had and rather than funneling them into something radical, channel them into a useful skill. "I imagine you'd make a good scout." He said. "You'd have the freedom to roam, a goal to pursue and at the end of the day, you'd still have a pack to come home to." He said. He didn't want to bee too enthusiastic, lest she rebel against this idea simply because he was championing it; but he still thought it might be to her advantage if he made the role seem even more desirable to her.
It seemed as though she was content to move on then, and to call their conversation to a close as she both stood and began to speak about her future plans. She was headed North then, having taken no interest in the packs she'd scented in the South. A good scout indeed, he mused to himself, as she confessed that she wanted to travel more, learn about the local packs before joining one. This information would arm her even more when she finally found a pack she wanted to join. Surely they would want an outside opinion on the other packs, and would welcome in a wolf who both had this information and chose that specific pack over the others. Perhaps she wasn't as foolhardy as he'd thought before; just a bit more complex than he'd expected.
"I'll know when I meet the leaders." He said. He had a firm belief that the foundation of the pack rested in the top of the heirarchy; what the leaders believed and tolerated, as far as behavior and roles were concerned, would shape how the pack worked together. The rest of the wolves, if they followed the laws the leaders set, would live in harmony so long as the laws were reasonable and the alphas knew how to both punish and reward pack members.