Kingsfall a river runs through it

Subterritory discovery thread! Kjors has found one of the streams leading into Turtleback Lake. It is a fast moving stream, generally only knee-deep escape in pools were it may get deeper. It flows over rocks and roots, so it is very aerated. Mostly only shiners and daces will be found, with the exception of some larger bass in those still pools. I'm working on a written description, but the image can be found here.

Every day was getting more bleak. It was a new poison each week. Kjors exhaled heavily, staring outwards from his perch as he studied the massive trees reaching ever upwards towards the heaven. Above them, a wicked sun shone down with bright rays and a steady heat, harkening the beginning of another cruel season. Despite the best efforts of evolution and adaption, leaves could not retain all their moisture. As the day dragged on, humidity increased, water pulled from the flora into the atmosphere by the greedy star hovering above. It mocked him, an ever present eye – how victorious, was the sun, that all life revolved around its very being. Even a dragon could not combat that omnipresence of nature, he knew, and it was that thought that set the tireless itch to his paws. He needed to move.

With a soft growl, Cut River Rock's newest recruit slunk forward, sliding down from his glacial erratic. Pads hit the soft forest floor, cushioned by fallen leaves and dead needles – in such an old growth region, there were few scrubs or bushes in the undergrowth. Almost everything was choked out by the mighty sequoia trees, regents of all they towered over. Only when one collapsed back towards the earth, overtaken by gravity, did a cornucopia of life spring forth, racing upwards towards the benevolent sunlight. Sunlight. Kjors growled again, ears swept backwards as he pressed forward again. Everything craved the sunlight – there was no life without it. A steady trot became a brisk lope, casual exploration became a steady race against the tendrils of defeat curling around his slender limbs.

It was failure though, wasn't it? Joining this pack, pledging his services to Kisla and her kith. None of those things were even remotely like the one-eyed dragon. He was a force of nature himself, answering to none but his own name – yet here he was, beckoned forth by a feeble princess. His tail lashed behind him like a whip, mirroring his furious thoughts as he nimbly hurtled a fallen trunk, plunging deeper into the forest. All he knew was that he was headed away from the queen's birthing den. As long as he traveled away from the common grounds, he was satisfied. Pack wolf or not, he had little desire to become anything more than acquainted with the other river wolves outside of those he had met previous to his annexation into the company. And that's what it was, wasn't it? He was an independent nation, seized and conquered by a larger kingdom, brought to subjugation and loyalty.

The worst part, he realized, was that he had willing brought this upon himself. Kjors had freely stepped into the chains, urged only by a pretty plea from @Karina appearing upon his doorstep. He offered his wings, allowing Kisla to clip them and sentence him to a life dictated by gravity and its senseless laws. Here, he was but a wolf, a single wolf, with nothing to his name or his legacy. His legacy.

If Urotho hadn't abandoned him, things would be different. Instead of skulking about, filling someone else's cache, he would be raiding them. The prizes would be returned to his own lair, presented proudly to the badger woman and their offspring. To think, he had once considered her to be his intellectual equal – to think, he had once considered her to be a dragon like himself. A raspy snarl escaped his throat at the very notion, the subordinate hissing to himself when he suddenly hit water. Only then did the wolf realize he'd traveled to a part of Kingsfall not previously explored – the quidnunc discovered one of the tributaries feeding into Turtleback Lake further to the south.

He came to an abrupt halt, eyes wild as he glanced around. There were no others here, and a quick scent of the sky informed him no other canine had been in the area in recent history. The wood and the creek were his, small as it was – his own, tiny kingdom, a petty treasure he would not be forced to share with the world at large. Crooning softly, he circled around, golden eye studying the water as it burbled and flowed downwards, racing over small rocks and the roots of trees much older that the steam bed itself. His tail wagged behind him once, satisfied with his unbidden revelation, and he stepped into the crick with another small murmur. All at once, the ringlets of impending failure slithered back into the dark crevice they had surfaced from, leaving Kjors free to claim his newest treasure.

"Zephyr Rill," he decided gruffly, wind tickling his ruff. "It'll be Zephyr Rill."

Note to Self: 777 words.

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Kjors’ scent was an easy one for the seasoned scout to track down. He didn’t yet smell much like the other Hearthwood wolves, likely because he spent so much time apart from the group. The Second had quite a few questions about him, the first being what on earth was his motivation for joining a pack if he preferred to keep completely to himself? As far as Naia had seen he had not visited to pack’s caches nor had he shown up at the center of the territory seeking companionship... it was as if he had continued living the life of a loner. Naia couldn’t help but suspect that the Baranski girl was somehow wrapped up in these odd events, seeing as she often smelled of the asocial man. Although Karina had made it clear that she disliked attention from the often agog Naia, as Kisla’s Second she still felt compelled to watch out for the Baranski child and investigate her suspicions of this strange man who seemed to enjoy his privacy completely, except for some reason when Karina was involved.

Naia had tracked Kjors’ scent back to a densite so far west that she could smell the great lake nearby.  She was sorely tempted to sniff around and determine exactly how much time Karina spent here, but she refrained from nearing the densite at all. Though a scout she may be, Naia respected the boundary of a den, even an empty one. Kjors would have been able to scent it if she had intruded, and that certainly wasn’t the way to make friends. Naia left the one-eyed man’s densite alone and continued her search for the swarthy male. Her travels brought her to the bank of a fast-moving creek, where she halted as she stumbled upon the sight of Kjors himself.

At first she didn’t recognize him, having somehow remembered him as larger and more intimidating. This man, murmuring to himself and playing in the shallows of the creek, seemed less threatening and more approachable. “Is that Zephyr Rill or Zephyr Hill?” she called softly, and she would wag her tail invitingly once he turned to look at her. “You’re as difficult to understand as you are to find, you know that, Kjors?” Amusement danced behind the slight woman’s honey eyes, waiting for a reply from the man before she ventured closer.  Her tone had been offhand, so hopefully the man saw that she was not laughing at him, but rather just upbeat and friendly in general. I’m the sort of personality that a loner like him would despise, Naia thought to herself, a reminder to tone down her exuberant nature just a bit. She reclined onto her haunches to ground herself, honey eyes still following the new recruit expectantly.

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(This post was last modified: May 29, 2015, 06:07 PM by Naia.)

As he circled the babbling brook, Kjors dropped his nose to the earth. The air was damp, rich with the scents of life-giving soil, fresh pine, and rays of sunshine filtering through the conifers overhead. It was his own, personal, tiny little kingdom – in fact, if he could find a secluded place among the redwoods a safe distance away from the rushing waters, he would consider relocating his den to this portion of the Kingsfall. Dropping his shoulder to the ground, the wolf pushed himself across the earth before allowing his haunches to drop. With a wild writhe, he twisted and rolled, covering himself in fallen needles. He'd wear a cloak of the rill's scent, wear it proudly like a crown, he'd—

The dragon's frolicking was abruptly cut short by a soft, feminine voice. Writing, he struggled to his feet, quickly shaking his dark pelt out as his single eye fell upon the familiar scout. Ears swept backwards as he realized that she was, in fact, his superior. Something sour rose up in his throat, and the male fought back a physical reaction to her clear exuberance. "Zephyr Rill. Y'see a hill 'ere, lass? Ain'tcha ever heard of a rill? S'jes' a stream," he grumbled, tail lashing behind him as he cast a wayward glass towards his despoiled discovery.

So much for his private kingdom, he sighed, dragging his gaze back to Naia.

His ears flattened further to his crown, visibly tensing at the mirth dancing from the younger wolf's eyes and tone. Here she was, laughing at his thick tongue and unharnessed joy – Mother curse her, he thought vehemently. Did he mock her, in her time of grief? Did he steal her glory, when she'd uncovered the Lavender Ethos on her own? He hated packs, he hated them! How had he let a little princess so clip his wings? "Wha' d'ya wan'," he asked blankly, making no approach towards his packmate. "Ah was busy."

Y'know, rollin' in th' needles an' all.

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The Timber woman’s ears flattened in abashment—it had been quite a while since she was told off by an elder. Feeling very small, she answered, “Oh.. oh of course. A rill.” How bizarre it was for her to have her composure ruffled by such a small, odd looking man disheveled and covered in forest debris. His strict tone reminded her of being scolded as a child, and she subconsciously adjusted her posture to that of a juvenile addressing a forbearer.  She may be Second among the females of the pack, but she sense this grizzled, one-eyed man was not one to be challenged.

Hermit to the core, the sighing, grumbling man made it obvious that Naia’s presence was entirely unwelcome. And after all that trouble she went to finding him! ”I can see that now,” the cowed female replied, after having collected herself. All trace of amusement had vanished from her expression, as clearly she was conversing with a quite humorless individual. Perhaps that was what the princess saw in the man, being such a serious little thing herself.  

“Please pardon the interruption,” Naia continued. A more timid woman might have let him be after that show of hostility, but not this intrepid scout. She had put too much effort into tracking him down, and she wasn’t leaving until she had what she came for. “But I have questions that I believe only you may be able to answer.” There, perhaps stroking his ego a bit would loosen him up. Having only just recently joined up with the River wolves, Naia thought there was a greater chance he had met other wolves in the area and heard more than the other packwolves… however, if he was as reclusive as a lone wolf as he was a pack wolf, perhaps she was barking up the wrong tree after all.

“Following Hearthwood River south for a day, I ran into a heavy lupine scent pooling near what sounded to be a large waterfall. It.. was not unlike the scent of a pack—a gathering of wolves forming a pack, perhaps. Do you know anything about these waterfall wolves?”  Naia ventured closer as she spoke, reaching the edge of the afore-named Zephyr Rill as she fell silent.

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Kjors stood a little straighter, lifting his jaw as it slowly dawned on the other female that he was not about to be mocked openly. He may be small for his sex, and clearly disabled, but it did not rid him of his pride nor his dignity. The dragon clung to those with tooth and talon – no mere mortal would rip such base needs from him. Still, the show of respect relaxed his ears, dark triangles slowly pressing forward fraction by fraction. "Very well," he replied in response to the first request – if she had questions, he would see if he could answer. Information was his trade, after all, and while he was willing to barter, Naia was barking up the wrong tree if she thought he might spill his guts free of charge.

Finally, he settled, haunches resting where he'd been rolling only moments ago. His tail wrapped around his haunches as his ears slowly swiveled forward, clearly intrigued by the inquiry. Unfortunately, he knew little of these Waterfall wolves – but such a state would not remain. Shaking his head, the dragon cleared his throat. "Naw. Ah entered from th' North." And witnessed a murder of a pack wolf, he thought wryly, though he'd keep that information to himself.

"Traveled t' th' west a' th' mountain. Ah know other packs – neither ally nor enemy…." Kjors raised a brow, waiting for the scout's reaction. This was something he'd planned to discuss with Kisla…but perhaps her Second would have something to offer him for the wealth of knowledge he might add to their collective cache of intelligence.

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Naia thought for a moment that Kjors would simply refuse to answer her, but he finally gave his terse, unhelpful reply. The Timber scout had also entered Relic from the north two years ago, and she remembered it to be a boring, barren, uninhabited landscape.. someplace that she imagined Kjors would find perfect. Why had he traded the deserted northern marshlands to reside here in Relic Lore, and land overflowing with wolves and other creatures that Kjors made it clear he despised?

Perhaps there was more to this man than she originally thought. He gave her another tidbit about his associations with the packs of Relic, which sounded to be somewhat numerous despite his obvious solitary nature. Maybe he was like her, thirsty for knowledge of the land and its occupants, but different from her in that he lacked the desire to be close to anyone. Except Karina, Naia reminded herself. Trying to figure out Kjors was like trying to assemble a puzzle when half the pieces were missing.

His golden eye watched her expectantly, clearly waiting for something. Naia realized he expected her to share some of her information now, perhaps the reason she sought this information. This man could easily give her a run for her position as head scout, Naia thought, recognizing his skill in reconnaissance from the way he spoke. If he were closer to the Baranskis she might have worried for her position, but Naia knew the pack leaders would have little use for a scout they didn’t trust. A wolf who isolated himself was a wolf who would find it difficult to earn that trust.

From the way he trailed off, Naia knew he expected something in exchange before he elaborated. “The River’s allies, newly renamed Round Stone Crest, have tension with a neighboring pack called Secret Woodlands. A couple Woodlands wolves attacked a Crest wolf, and there was very nearly a war. It was determined that the Woodland attackers were not acting on orders from their leadership—they were traitors.” Naia felt a little squeamish sharing so much of her painstakingly gathered information before she’d had a chance to talk to the Baranskis about it.. but Kjors was a packmate after all. There was no need to keep information from family, right?

“I know it’s unlikely, but I want to make sure these waterfall wolves and the Woodlands traitors aren’t one in the same. If the Woodlands traitors attacked a neighboring packwolf unprovoked, there’s reason to think they might do it again.” It was incredibly disappointing to think that they had traveled all this way for a safe place to live, only to settle down on the doorstep of the Crest’s attackers. If these waterfall wolves were the Woodland traitors, the River would have to act quickly to dispel them before they became stronger and more organized. Maksim had made it clear that the River would not run from war again.

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There is a rabbit\'s nest nearby. +1 Health

Round Stone Crest. His mind wandered back to Gent, the large man seeking to solve a murder case. Clearly they were independent events, as this attacker was well-known and tracked, and Gent's ghost was still on the wind. Lifting a brow, he digested the information so freely given by the head scout. His smile was an internal one, but left him more apt to helping his packmate puzzle the problem out. A team player – no. But when it posed to benefit him as well? That was another matter entirely.

"Ah dunno why y'think it so unlikely, Bird Dog. They were traitors – a group of 'em. Wha' d'ya think happens when pack wolves splinter off in large factions? New packs." His tail swished behind him. A waterfall was a prime location for a den. There was plenty of access to fresh water; even during a freeze, falls really became solid like the rest of the river. Other animals would seek the hole for its resources, and the pack would not go hungry. "Ah haven' heard a' any others bein' formed. Th' packs Ah ran into were naw newly formed, bu' established, wi' members."

And they would remain his own personal trove of information, for the time being. The packs further south probably had no involvement with this matter. If he had to bet a fresh kill on it, the Waterfall wolves sounded like the mostly likely suspects. (And there were always suspects, in the dragon's mind.) "Why dun' we go check it out, huh? Tha's wha' a scout's supposed t' do."

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Naia couldn’t remember meeting anyone since she first arrived in Relic (and had that unfortunate encounter with that Keep alpha) that unsettled her quite so much as Kjors. What was it about this man that made her feel like such a child? Naia wondered this as the dark male picked apart her suggestion that her concerns were unlikely. Even when agreeing with her, he found some way to make her feel ignorant, and that in itself was an art that Naia would appreciate significantly more she was not his current canvas.  

Kjors mentioned again those mysterious other packs he was familiar with, and again stopped short of describing them further. If her companion had been anyone other than Kjors, Naia might have probed further for this information, but the Timber woman had no doubt that if she asked he would turn her words around once more, utilizing her questions as more ammunition with which to ridicule her without giving her the answers she sought.  

Kjors went on to suggest that they pay a visit to the waterfall wolves, which was the exact reason that Naia had sought the man out in the first place. She had known that chances of Kjors knowing anything about the waterfall wolves were slim, but if there was any River wolf she wanted at her side when confronting a possible enemy, it was the prickly, scarred and grizzled Kjors.

Naia’s jaw nearly fell open when the new recruit presumed he needed to tell her what “a scout’s supposed to do”.  Here he was, presenting the plan that she’d had from the get-go as if she was dense for needing him to come up with the strategy for her. Naia knew that insisting she’d had the same plan all along would only serve to make her seem even more infantile, so she swallowed her argument with a nod. “I couldn’t agree more,” she conceded instead, chagrined to have to relinquish credit for the idea. “Ready when you are.” The scout’s tail flicked back and forth, as it often did when she was agitated.

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If you post an exit thread, we can go ahead and claim it for LP. :3 Additionally, I started a thread at the waterfall here if you wanna hop on it!

The man was not looking to become a scout, fortunately, or he and Naia may have come to blows at some point. It was simply not his style. He sought information, yes, but he was a survivalist whereas the lead scout saw herself defending the pack on the whole. No one had ever saw fit to aid him in the past, and the dragon did not expect it to begin any time soon. He had many talents, but even Kjors had found himself in sticky situations that had almost robbed him of his life – it had deprived the beast of his right eye. He'd not be hijacked again.

Rolling his neck, the corner of his mouth lifted into a small smile as the woman quickly agreed to his suggestion. Too quickly, in fact, for the idea to be entirely foreign to her. It was something she'd at least considered before approaching him. If that was her plan all along, she was craftier than he'd initially pegged her, though he would not ask. Better to tuck that knowledge away, and be more aware of the scout in the future. As it were, a neutral alliance would benefit them in the present. There was no reason to alienate Kisla's second, especially if he wished to improve his own station. Towering only over the yearlings did not suit the former alpha at all. If he did not have the ability to raise his own pack yet, he would climb as high as he could until then.

"As y' say. We'll be off, then."

With not another word, he rose, giving his discovery one last, longing glance before he set off at a steady pace, glancing at the woman over his shoulder. Either she'd follow, or she wouldn't.

Exit.