Clearwater Tarn is it really a life worth living?

Clearwater Tarn was... okay, as far as Kip was concerned. Sure, she liked a couple of the wolves here, but mostly it was all pretty bland. Not enjoyable. Plus the mountain reminded her of the place she had run from in the first place. The almost-adult was tired of the cold rock under her feet.

But she stayed. She didn’t know why, exactly. Odin just wanted to be packmates, after all, and she had no real friends. It was like she was just existing here with absolutely no purpose whatsoever.

And it sucked.

The tiny wolf sighed as she made her way along the border, patrolling just for the hell of it. It was something she did a lot these days - to get away from the pregnancy smells and strange wolves that she didn’t want to be around.

To be alone - she liked it that way.

—-

open to one or two others ^^ forward dated to 4/21

(This post was last modified: Apr 18, 2018, 01:11 AM by Kip.)

mind if we date this for April 21? (that's when Cyril would be home <3)

He was finally back on familiar soil—but all of the western side of Lore was becoming familiar to him. Especially since he travelled to the south frequently to visit his friend. There were trails that he preferred to follow—mostly closer to the base of the mountain, as he seldom encountered pack wolves beneath its looming shadow—and trails that he avoided. He had been cautious not to tread too far into the forest as he feared he’d encounter another undesirable wolf. But, that was to be expected. Most wolves he came across were undesirable. That came with the territory of being a moody, brooding teenager who preferred to be on his own.

As he approached the borders a familiar scent greeted him, but it wasn’t a wolf that the boy was well-acquainted with. She had been present, briefly, at the monadnock (when she wasn’t glued to Odin’s side). She had grieved with them, despite not knowing his father for very long, and had remained in the north when the remaining Whitestone members headed south to return Adeltra to the willows. It seemed, however, that she was fond of the group—why else would she have returned to Piety? He didn’t speak as he crossed her path; instead his tail wagged behind him in greeting, his yellow gaze falling onto her ivory frame. He was becoming more accustom to week long trips he endured when he decided to visit Adeltra, but that didn't mean he wasn't tired.

Well, if she had to come across someone from this pack, it might as well be the kid. They had never formally spoken before, but his brooding and angst matched hers, and she had wanted to have the chance to greet him for a while now. She just hadn’t expected it to be so sudden and abrupt, or to catch him just coming back into the territory. She knew he’d gone for a while, but she didn’t know exactly for what reason.

Pale green eyes turned up to the boy. Why did he have to be so damn big?!

”Damn. You look beat,” Kip remarked flippantly, flicking tufted ears and scanning over his huge body. No injuries though. He was really starting to look like his dad that died up by the Monadnock. ”I don’t think we’ve had the chance to officially meet yet. I’m Kip.” Even though he most likely knew her name. She knew his. It was just nice to get the pleasantries out of the way.

Small talk was never her forte.

—-

That’s fine!

(This post was last modified: Apr 18, 2018, 01:10 AM by Kip.)

It didn’t seem like Cyril was going to escape with a simple tail wag greeting. A noticeable frown traced his already sullen features as his pace slowed, his ears twitching with discomfort as she spoke. You look beat. Well, yeah, duh. He’d just been travelling for three days after consoling his closest friend, of course he was beat. But, the ivory youth didn’t know that, nor did he feel like informing her about what he’d been up to. It wasn’t anyones business but his own—and his mother’s, as Cyril always kept her in the loop. He trusted that she wouldn’t share too much with the tawny male at her side, for the brooding boy was still wary of the strange male. Perhaps it was his fault, as he hadn’t gotten a chance to get to know the male, but he didn’t care to either.

Not yet.

She was quick to introduce herself, even though they both knew each others name, but her courteous demeanour was sort of appreciated. Even if he didn’t feel like being social. Cyril, he added, his voice hoarse from lack of use. He blinked, his brows knitted tight: did she need anything else from him? Or was she just trying to be a good social packmate—the complete opposite of what he was.

Oookay... so conversation wasn’t going to be as easy as she had hoped. That was fine. Perhaps she could carry this on by herself. She had before, she mused with a soft sigh. It wasn’t so hard.

”Good. Now we’ve officially met,” she stated, her tail giving one slight wave. And maybe she was just being a nuisance, but... well, she wanted to at least give this whole pack thing a good old-fashioned try. She wouldn’t be satisfied in her want to leave if she didn’t try.

The littler wolf cleared her throat and looked up at the black wolf. ”Since we’re both here, and heading in the same direction, do you want to walk with me?” she asked, tipping her head to one side. ”Y’don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I think it might be nice to have a little bit of company.”

Maybe. Maybe not. But the point is she was trying.

His brows fell into a tight line as he watched the gears turn inside her head. He offered her a curt nod in response but kept his tongue in check. Just because they were packmates didn’t mean Cyril had to hold a conversation with her. Unless she was interested in one-sided conversations. Unfortunately, for the sullen youth, it appeared that the blonde wanted some company. He sucked through his teeth as he deliberated the idea, his tail twitching behind him. It was quite obvious how different they were from each other. She sought company and an exchange of words and he wanted the complete opposite; solitude and silence. Walk where, though? Scout the borders? Continue with more unwanted conversation? How dull.  

So, instead of responding, he shrugged and took a step away from her, into the territory. She could do as she pleased—just as he intended to do what he wanted: find a place to rest.

As small as Kip was, she was still technically an adult, and she didn’t feel comfortable leaving Cyril alone when he was clearly so tired. He might have been massive for his age, but it was better to ensure his safety, and she intended to do just that.

”Sorry, I won’t talk to you. I’m just going to make sure you get back in one piece,” she told him as she padded alongside the darker wolf. And true to her word, she didn’t say anything else. Just kept her head low and padded alongside the younger wolf as she made sure he got back okay.

The scent on his fur was familiar. Perhaps he had gone to see that pack down south, with the dickhead leader who yelled at kids and then his subordinates when they pointed out that he was, in fact, being a dickhead. But still, Kip said nothing.

He was too tired to chase her away; too tired to entertain her. But he definitely did not need a babysitter. While he was young, and a little reckless, he was old enough to take care of himself. The only wolf he wanted, or needed, fawning over him was his mother—not this stranger. He did not know why she felt the need to tale after him as though he was a toddler. Even if he was tired he would rest at the borders if he needed to. He didn’t even sleep with the rest of the pack. “I don’t need assistance,” he responded curtly, his tongue clucking against the roof of his mouth as he continued toward the lake, his pace quickening. He was interested in being nice, or friendly. Not after the journey he'd endured. The only wolf he was interested in seeing was his mother, but he was even too tired to seek her out.