Mountain of Dire endless possibility

Angier Lyall

After more than a week of not seeing Vlarindara or the curious silver female that was her alpha, Angier Lyall was finally at a standstill. For days, he had trailed along the edges of a claimed territory that loomed over him like a towering, yet invisible, wall that kept him barricaded out. Not even a glance of fur or a hint of a voice was taken in during that time, and no matter how long he sought after them or how hard he kept his mind open to the possibility of being that alpha’s aid, it always seemed that he was moving in a different circle than the rest of them. Perhaps it was time to do something else; Cedarwood Forest, though it had been an ideal place to start anew, was starting to lose its charm anyway with no one else to offer him the occasional conversation. Once night had fallen and the woods eased into a state of rest, he said his quiet goodbyes and, after giving the place one last look over his shoulder, left.

A few days of running and only stopping to eat when he felt he absolutely had to, eventually brought him to the one sight he had continually gazed at since his arrival to the Wildwood: The Mountain of Dire. He emerged from the gnarled and charred forest only to be hit with the strong scent of well-kept borders after wandering right past what seemed like a territory landmark. Another wall with a large sign that warned that the land had been claimed. Exhaling to clear his nose of the scent, he scanned the rocky paths. For a few minutes he paced restlessly before deciding his next move.

Settling onto his haunches, he raised his voice – a cry of loneliness with a hint of desperation – into the air, hoping that it would reach the lofty dwellings tucked away into the mountain side. He had left his home in Bertram Valley to start a new chapter in his life and if Vlarindara’s pack had purposefully made themselves unavailable to him, maybe he’d have more luck with the pack who resided here.

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The large gray leader of the Plateau settled outside of his den, meal between his paws. It wasn't much but a rabbit he'd caught down below earlier in the day. Why he'd bothered to carry it back up before eating it was beyond him, but he'd done it. It rested limp between his paws, and he carefully picked the fur off the thing before tearing right into it. The sound of cracking bone was music to his ears, and he picked off what meat was on the thing before choosing to chew greedily on the bones, mostly just to snap them between his teeth.

But his joyful cracking was interrupted by the sound of a howl near the markers. The rabbit was quickly tossed aside, and he made his way down the rocky slope. The form of a wolf grew in size and complexity as he approached until the creature was as clear as day, and within touching distance. <b style="color:#51b85f">"State your business here." His tone wasn't unfriendly, and had a ring of curiosity to it. His tail curled over his back as he stood before the stranger, eying him with interest. <b style="color:#51b85f">"speech."

Angier Lyall

Watching as a large gray-and-white male descended from the mountain made the Lyall quickly get back onto his feet. His figure stiffened, only backing down a tad; he might have been intimidating, but the tawny wolf was used to that. His uncle had always told him to hold his ground; to submit to a superior upon first impression implied weakness, and no alpha, he was sure, would want a spineless wolf in his pack. He merely furrowed his brows and lowered his ears upon being addressed, allowing his pale gold eyes to solemnly gleam back in the afternoon sun. The statement would have seemed unwelcoming if it wasn’t for the hint of interest that mingled in his words. Either way the lone wolf replied in a neutral tone. “I’ve come in search of a home.”

By the way the ashen wolf stood, there was no doubt he was the leader of this place; not only did he smell of the earthy rocks and cool mist of the nearby falls but his posture made his status clear. “I-I…wish to join your pack,” he then admitted, lowering both his head and tail. He wanted to tell him that the forests beyond the Wildwood had proved to be unbefitting, but he was sure the aroma and the state of his worn coat would say that for him.

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The male that stood before him seemed to be able to hold his own on the stone, and before Alexander. There was something about the way that the woody-scented male didn't grovel that brought a faint smile to the still rather formal-Alexander's face. So, the wolf was looking for a home. If that wasn't an obvious enough statement, it was followed up by a request to join Midnight Plateau. Slowly, Alexander nodded, glancing over the the male with a pale eye.

<b style="color:#51b85f">"What's your name, stranger? And why do you think you can survive on the mountain?" That seemed like a necessary question now that they'd actually lost one to the mountainous land. He didn't want wolves that couldn't handle the terrain to risk their lives just for a den to sleep in at night. Though, some did consider a pack their family, and they would work to stay with their family. <b style="color:#51b85f">"speech."

Angier Lyall

Angier was quick to answer when the male asked for his name and why he thought he could survive the large peak that was Mount Dire. “Angier Lyall, sir.” He bowed his head in respect, continuing, “Where I’m from, my family and I made our home well above th’ valley floor. It might’ve ‘ad more trees and soil and such, but I speak the truth when I say I am not afraid of heights and will not allow anything, such as a mountain, to conquer me.”

He fell silent for a moment before averting his gaze; he didn’t want the fire and determination in his words to be perceived as arrogance or anything of the sort. Perhaps he has said too much? Or maybe too little? His ears, though already lowered, flattened even more at the thought. “My father had always expected much more from me while growing up,” he quietly added. “I simply hope you will find a better use for me than he had. New challenges and the means of survival are something I have learned to live by under his reign; I was taught to survive anything.” His lips then pressed together in a tight seal as his eyes returned to the leader, breathlessly awaiting his judgment.

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Alexander hadn't expected to hear that last name and for a silent second, he seemed to brace himself for whatever turmoil his body would wreak upon him. Oddly enough, he found little churning of the stomach, and even less aching of his heart. Oh well. He preferred this painless existence anyway. Alexander let him continue without interruption, and found the answer he'd give quite acceptable. The Lyall male didn't seem to think so, but Alexander merely let out a little huff of laughter.

What an interesting thing to be taught. Everything? Seemed so strange to Alexander, but he also couldn't understand being raised under a father that wanted more from you than you could ever give. <b style="color:#51b85f">"Perfect answer." Alex nodded, glancing over the male again. <b style="color:#51b85f">"You've given me no reason to send you away, Angier, so welcome to the mountain." With a dip of his head, Alexander took a step back, as if to indicate his departure, before he paused, and sat slowly. <b style="color:#51b85f">"Do you have a brother?" Was the question to nosy or...Odd? Alexander couldn't go back up until he knew the answer. <b style="color:#51b85f">"speech."

Angier Lyall

“Anything,” Angier realized then and there, was probably a bold term for describing what his mentors – namely his uncle, parents, brothers and sister – had taught him, but it did hold some inkling of truth. His uncle and mother taught him about plants as his father advised him about animals, prey and predators alike; his siblings, meanwhile, did their part in helping him manage fights, playful (as in giving his younger brothers a hard time) or genuine (as in trying to keep Borden from giving him a hard time). The leader gave a short chortle and the tawny male allowed his gaze to flicker up to him before casting it back down. What was so funny? He wanted to scowl but found it was nothing after the words “perfect answer” were comprehended.

His wheat-colored eyes remained on a pebble beside his left forepaw as the alpha verbally accepted him. “Thank you, sir,” he gratefully replied. He straightened slightly and looked to the mountain before warily gazing to his new superior, watching as he stepped back and lowered onto his haunches. The question that followed took him by surprise. It was the second time someone had asked about his siblings since he had arrived to Relic Lore. “I have three,” he answered in a rather sour tone. For a few seconds he wondered if the topic would be extended further, and if it was, he doubted he’d like where their conversation would lead. “One older, two younger.”

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