Windsong Fjord Ponderings of Flame

ooc: All welcome for anyone who might want to hop in. Torment Gunnar, woo!

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Slow steps were not about to be taken at a disadvantage, the wolf was clearly on nothing that would come close to a mission. It was why his ears swung on his head, and he found himself unable to keep his mind on the track of the righteous. Oh, he had been blathering on about changing again - he had said so quite bluntly to Gent, but whether or not it was the truth was something difficult to say. Still he found himself unable to deny that he was lured, at almost all times, to coming to the front of the battle lines.

Already his nose was seeming to take the air, the hunger was a question that could not be denied. While he was unaccustomed to seeking out secondary individuals, well, he found himself unable to stop the pressure in his mind. This was going to be an outcome that was not going to be well met, and his tail swished from one side to the other. Every moment was going to be planted with the treasures of the dead, of the naive, and Gunnar was happy to go wandering.

The lust of it all was hard to deny, the positivity on the matter was not going to be taken on a gentle tongue. Nose flaring, there was no doubt that he was someone who had to step forward with the anticipation that was coming into his ears, whispering in ways that could not be denied. Something was beckoning him, and he doubted it was the draw of the water. The anticipation was thrumming along in his chest, but the solution was not promising him an easy way out of the mess that he could get into... all too easily.

When his ears swung on his head, the alert seemed to take him by surprise. The sudden pressure was not about to be thwarted, and his head jerked upright. Ears swinging on top of his head, he found himself unable to suppress the intent behind his poised gait. The arctic wolf was not someone to make protests... actually, he was. Where's the fire? Fires burn so rapidly in enclosed spaces with satisfactory oxygen, but here...? The water source, the ill lack of wind... So someone was lingering, moving with intent - nothing was on fire.

But maybe it would be a chance to light someone up?

(This post was last modified: Aug 09, 2015, 07:12 PM by Gunnar.)

What a boring and deserted place Relic Lore has turned out to be since his dull nails first scratched at the surface back in the scarlet tinged sands. There was no disputing that his nose had garnered the scents of filthy half breeds everywhere along side the fleeting scent of his distant kin until he departed from the red leafed forest, yet not a single soul was encountered. How peculiar was it that in a place that screamed of thriving life not one wolf popped up to play with poor Eirian? Well, obviously he must have been looking in the wrong locations then.

Creamy limbs pushed silently through the dense expanse of timber, using small tails from previous travelers to navigate the steep incline beneath his pads. Ebony nose twitched each time an air current brought the aroma of fresh water to his nostrils accompanied by the sound of its light splashing over both partially and fully submerged boulders. Revealing the salmon tongue that remained dormant within his jaws it graced his dried lips with a quick lick. Considering there was nobody to entertain a small drink sounded pleasant. Maneuvering dark russet frame further down the sloped hills it didn't take long to reach the source of glacial water, but it was an unexpected blur in the distance that truly caught his attention. Lips pulled back into a smirk the young Asurn man would have cracked his knuckles in anticipation of the fun he was about to have with this stranger. Finally there would be some action in this dull place. 

Altering his path of travel to intercept behind the blurred shape once thoughtless steps acquired a more determined, calculated stride. Narrowed lids allowed Eirian to focus the distant embodiment a little easier, a groan threatening to pass over his lips when they discovered the pale coloration that was not of the Timber species. An unholy beast he was. No matter, filthy or not there was still fun to be had. Closing the distance, the dark tawny man saddled up on the lone male's left side within a respectful distance. Smirk morphing into a well trained smile. A part he had played many of times before. "Hello, a fine day is it not?" He spoke in a complacent tone, tiger orange optics allowed to take in the build of this depraved creature. No doubt this brute was as ambisinister as he looked. 

Mind was still stuck on the energy, but he would never listlessly make decisions based on something that would have brought his mind to center. There was an energy that would not be thwarted crackling around him, much like Cabdalle had when he thought he was summoning those in which were evil spirits from beyond. Shaking his head, the well-thought wolf did not abate from his trials, merely found himself slowing down in his walk. No need to go at a pace stronger than a stroll, and thus perhaps the reserves of energy would not need to escape him in such a furious manner.

It took some time, but eventually the carrier of life appeared. The male was well built, admirable in his own right; but there was a sharpness to him, and for a few moments Gunnar merely stared. Taking in the appearance, committing pieces of his movements to mind, noticing the distance that was left that warranted his fur not to raise. Not that he was quick on the reaction, most times, but it all depended on what would be required.

Well, certainly adequate. Amusement was trickling into his tone as he allowed the small talk to be warranted, but the need to speak still pressed on his tongue. It almost insisted that he could not be silent, but his shoulders shrugged. Who was this man, and what would be the desire in those eyes? It was all a penance, something to be bought and paid for. It was a curiosity that pushed him to speak, much to his dismay at trying not to yet poke another wolf so soon after Kjors. Are you in need of something, sire? Most times lone wolves are not apt for much more than fleeting romances, Cheekily spoken, one ear swung on his head to see if he could catch the sound of something else.

Well that was certainly a twist, it seemed no one else was around now. Perhaps the energy had been his, but it was hard to determine. Gunnar, though, as politics beckon - name for a name, then what may transpire will be. Dramatic words, but he was already latched on - eager to hear the words out of the male, hungry like a fiercely starving babe.

(This post was last modified: Aug 14, 2015, 12:15 PM by Gunnar.)

Adequate was the man's simplistic reply to Eirian's own simple question, a small wave of relief ushered over his body at the lack of a hostile response. Albeit, he was cocky enough to believe even if one was made apparent the Asurn man would have been smooth enough to evade such outcomes. More words strung together came to befall his rust tinged audits, pivoting forward to catch each fallen syllable in bemusement. In need of something? That was a given, but something Eirian would not reveal immediately. What fun was there in a game if it ended so soon? The latter part of his statement, though, did threaten to make the man wretch his stomach contents. A romantic anything with the likes of him and his kind was down right sickening to the tawny pelted wolf. Only a pure blooded Eastern Timber could ever hope to earn his affection should he even lay such a blessing on the table, of course.

A bemused chuckle of sorts erupted lightly from his inky colored lips, upholding the smile they once held. "I can assure you I am in no search for a fleeting romance, let alone one of our gender. As being in need of something, that's a foreign answer unknown to either of us." His words tactically vague in hopes of luring the man into further conversation and it would seem so as the stranger offered a title for ones self. It was a strange way of saying ones name, but Eirian brushed to oddity off with a subtle shrug. Upper frame lowering with a limb bending back into a slight bow as he spoke upon his own name. "Eirian Asurn at your service." Not nearly as poetically spoken, but it served its purpose. Rising back to his relaxed height, a brow quirked curiously. "What, may I ask, brings such a poetic man such as yourself out in these parts?" 

There was a method to his strategic words, hoping the bit of flattery may ease this Gunnar character into revealing what information he knew of these parts. Information Eirian would need to know in regards to his future plans

Experiential opportunities were never something that Gunnar would look away from, and thus his smile was not about to be drifting apart from one side to the other. It was why he looked on at this newcomer with some morbid fascination, thoughts zooming around in his head. In part there was a need to educate someone who would come waltzing up so boldly; but the bulky wolf was a bit exhausted from the tyranny of fighting and being superior in every way.

Arrogance made him brighten, and the introduction was thrown back at him on a smooth tongue. Not a romance then, and the jest had been left hanging on the ground. Not the friendliest type in the world, was he? It was why ears seemed to come swinging forward, and the vivid question seemed to linger on his features. Now what kind of expectation was this going to be warranting? Gunnar was grinning, delighted on the fact he had no choice to believe that his luck had been upped.

"Poetry is a particularly appropriate phrase." Observation was accompanied with some forethought, his head finding itself cocking to the side. His eyes turned wistful, and his words were filled with emphasis, "Looking for a bite to eat of my favorite thing." Eyes lingered on the other as he answered, although it was a frustration to admit. He had not lied, when he had spoken to @Gent. It was a want to be rid of his cannibalistic tendencies at any cost...

But nothing tasted quite like the flesh of another. It was becoming almost a sickening ritual for him to stare out so... morosely, wanting to have the reason to go and sink back into a world he had been in before. Tail wavered behind him, and ears swiveled until they were alert and lingering on the man who had introduced himself as Eirian. "Do you know, at this time of year there are hundreds of thousands of moths beginning to die off, reaching their end of cycle? It's quite a pittance, I miss some of the nighttime ones who used to follow me. It breaks some of the lonesomeness." "Vestibulum mattis varius interdum."

The answer to his question was not one he had expected to hear, albeit mysterious to its proper meaning. All around the men the shared air had shifted its energy, a sense of uneasiness settling over the Asurn that he dared not let on to this unholy thing in his presence. Apparently Gunnar was looking for his favorite morsel to devour, but the way those rusty optics flickered over his embodiment in a near morbid fascinated way that did little to sooth Eirian's uneasiness. What this guy's favorite food was was not turning out to be something he wanted to find out any time soon. Taking a stealthy step back he put a small amount of extra distance between them.

Then the most peculiar information spewed from Gunnar's leathery lips, weaving a tale about the abundance of moths that were dying all around them and how it grew lonesome at night not having the insect companions to follow in his footsteps anymore. "How sad." Was all Eirian could mutter as he forced himself to fabricate a saddened, laconic tone of voice when in truth he couldn't give a rat's furry behind about the sudden death of hundreds of thousands of moths this time of year. What use was this to him in obtaining information about these lands? It was as useless as this man was starting to become. Mentally the dark agouti man was beginning to have second thoughts about indulging this man further in conversation. He had nothing useful to offer and precious daylight was burning away. Unless he was able to offer something useful, Eirian was keen on hightailing it out of there. These mutts were never of any use.

There is a deer that was killed by a lynx nearby. +10 Health

The benefit of being a wolf who knew that the world was intolerant of him and his way of viewing things meant that, for the most part, Gunnar himself was fairly tolerant. Slow to anger, harder to get on the mindset that he might have been getting into some kind of trouble. It was why his cheeky grin was not about to be rude, but he found his tail wagging as the male attempted to adjust his face. The loss of the moths was a sad reality, but no, Gunnar was not looking for a crying partner.

The step back was enough to have his ears latched on to going forward though, and mouth seemed to turn upward with amusement. "Ah, well at least you did not run away crying," The half comment was leading into the next set of words with ease, his head tipping. "The wolf with young up a ways from here was quite startled by me. Who would have thought an alpha would be so intimidated..." Easy words, flawless ones came off his lips. As a mental note, he found himself without judgement about Gent. The male was not so flawed, but it seemed like this male was looking for something.

So let the good time roll, and the guessing games begin!

Such was why the amusement seemed to come gallivanting over his cheeks. "Hard for a sneak to be caught when none take up a business accord first, after all." It was an idle statement, although Gunnar rarely considered himself a spy. Simply knowing that he was a risk to so many lazy wolves' health was quite engaging. As his gaze seemed to dance, he was almost losing his tongue with the notion that was taking him. Ah, had he gotten something interesting? One hoped so!"Vestibulum mattis varius interdum."

Eirian listened closely as finally some useful intellect was muttered by this man, words about young and an alpha being intimidated by the likes of him warranting a bemused half chuckle of sorts. The Asurn king in the making would need to venture to this northern alpha and rummage for what information about them there he could. Little did the dark tawny man know that within this mysterious pack of the north a long lost cousin of his lived out her days. A pitiful citizen under tommyrot leadership in the eyes of the Asurns.

But his attention was in the present with this older brute, deciding he may have some use after all if he had information about those inhabiting these parts. "A sneak well trained in his trade never gets caught, though, am I right?" Eirian played along with this man's games, hoping if he did so this man would offer more requested knowledge. "But tell me more about this alpha you speak of. You are the first in many moons I have crossed paths with and wish to learn more about this glorious place and who else I may run into." A small white lie tumbling off the smooth surface of his pink tinted tongue. It was true he was wishing to wanting to learn more about this place to better guide his future decisions and plans before settling anywhere, but the notion of wanting to run into others. Hardly true at all. If they served no purpose in his plots he wanted nothing to do with them.