Stonewatch Timbers Of Cabbages and Kings

@Gent

From the Woodlands she had travelled north for a day, stopping under an evergreen that stung her nose. The ground made her skin itch and she wanted nothing more than to get back to the soft earth of her home. Adventure was always exciting at first, but like any family car trip, the young woman had finally reached the point where the same songs on repeat were more than she could bare.

She stood up and shook her fur, groaning at the hills that lay before her. Perhaps if she hadn’t already been travelling for a week she would be able to attack them with a bit more enthusiasm, but it was at this point she decided if she didn’t find @“Enoki”’s pack by noon then she would turn around and head home. She was tired, she smelled like a loner and she wanted something decent to eat. Something she didn’t have to fight jackals and foxes and buzzards to keep, but most of all she missed @“Skoll" and @“Sven”.

Head down and shoulders hunched she tried to tackle the next hill, scowl plastered on her face as she trudged forward. “Better be worth it Morganna.” she muttered under her breath with a huff. Perhaps she’d be better off just turning around right now?

It was a bias thing, but nothing seemed to taste better than freshly slaughter whistlepig. As Gent made the ascent back to his dwelling, he carried two of the plump rodents with their thick skin pinched between his fangs, swinging from his large jaws and necessitating him to carry his head high and keep them from the grasp of the underbrush. They were meant to be shared with @Raela primarily, but of course anyone in the vicinity would be welcomed to the meal as well, as unappreciative of the victory as they might be without being privy to the monarchs' shared history with the vicious marmots.

Through the blood, still steadily draining from their bodies to leave a dripping trail as he climbed, something different occurred upon the air. The king drew to a stop, and took a deep breath through his nares to better analyze the many messages scrawled within the atmosphere. A stranger, female and unpolluted by the scents of companions, was closing in on his domain. With a chuff expelled upon his prey's coarse fur, he changed his direction and strove to meet this foreigner on her way.

It was a short trip, swiftly completed by his strong strides. When the woman came into view, his boon was placed upon the ground to free his jaws while he pale eyes scaled her form repeatedly, picking up on every little detail. The king stepped over the bodies, placing them safely under him while his tail curled upward to prove his dominance and authority within this land.

"You seem to have some idea of where you're going," he observed, and then waited for either admittance or denial.

I'm not a choice, I'm a natural selection

As if her thoughts alone were enough to encourage the fates to convince her otherwise, a voice came to her and she looked over her shoulder with a sheepish smile. “No idea. Just a general direction.” she admitted readily. The man had stepped forward to cover a familiar sight, one that made her poor paw throb with the memory of just how savage the little things could be. She was grateful for the distraction and the chance to rest her aching paws. “A pack mate o’ mine said said she’d met th’ leader o’ a pack up this way. We’re hardly neighbours but I thought while I was out gatherin’ herbs fer winter I’d poke around an’ see who I bumped inter.” She had folded her stance down so she resembled any other young adult, curious and eager to take the world head on, but harmless enough - especially to one so large.

Her tail had settled into an amiable wave and she realised she hadn’t yet introduced herself. ”Morganna Archer, Willow Ridge.” she added quickly, filling the silence with another smile. She wondered if this one would introduce himself also, or if he would choose to withhold his name like the wolf in the woods (who with any luck would be arriving at the borders of Willow Ridge about now himself).

Her voice, that odd accent, it was all familiar, and Gent found himself straining to sift back through his memories and root out the origin of the slight deja vu creeping in. It wasn't just this inkling that piqued his curiosity, however, but also the words spoken, his blue black ears pressing forward to take in each and every syllable. She gave her name, and her allegiance, and the name was not lost on him. This wolf belonged to those who Hearthwood River had feared retaliation from, though he had not recalled running into any of their band previously. Was the leader spoken of perhaps Minka, then?

"Gent Lieris," he returned, but was unwilling to impart the christening of the domain she neared just yet. "Your pack borders the Cedarwoods, does it not? This is pretty far north for a simple medicinal run." He knew medicine, knew what it took to keep an infirmary stocked, to prepare for the winter, and she was quite a bit out of bounds concerning how far one would travel to fulfill such a role. Was it really curiosity bringing her farther than she should be, or did she know more of his pack than what was being admitted? Did she know of their previous connections with the River pack? Had the Baranskis been right to fear the Ridge?

I'm not a choice, I'm a natural selection

The shake of her head was a small one, "Yer thinkin' o- the Woodlands we're further south an' east, near the fireweed an' the mountain, just south o- the Grove." which only further went to illustrate just how far afield she was. "But I stopped by there on my way, I need ter stop by on my way home again an' see if they have an answer fer mother. I haven't been up this way before an' thought I'd have a look. Never know when I might get th' chance again." especially with winter on the way.

As the terrain had changed so had the plants she had encountered. Surely her mother would know the uses for some of them but Morganna was flying blind. "It's amazin' how the land changes as yer travel." she remarked casually. "Everything seems so similar but its different." For a wolf with no intention of leaving her pack she certainly had an adventurous spirit. Scouting allowed her to scratch her itchy paws but would it always be enough?

 

He listened to her patiently, the woman proving to be quite chatty. She seemed innocent enough, and yet he couldn't help but to continue to feel suspicious. Were there clues his subconscious was picking up on, or was he becoming paranoid in light of the recent turmoil that had surrounded him? Gent very much did not want to be the latter, and yet he could not shake the unease. Still, she was imparting quite a bit of information to him, and he thought to make it useful all the same.

"Are you allied with Nina, then?" he asked. If he had known of the alliance between Whisper Caverns and Willow Ridge, he would've been able to surmise the answer to his own question. If the answer was to be yes, then this Morganna was certainly someone he would want to know better so as to gather more information on her home. There was a web atop the West, and he wanted to ensure that Round Stone Crest did not get caught within it on the wrong end of the spiders which created it. Yet he also needed to be careful of making the wrong friends, as had been proven with the fiasco of Hearthwood River. They needed to be familiar with the water but not consumed by it, dipping their paws in without wading too deeply.