Nightingale Palisade down with the sickness

@Merys 6/23/16; Dawn; Patchy light rain in the area; 57 ° F, 14 ° C  

Parted temporarily with his dear little brother, Zerxes lazily made his way south from the flatlands of the north. His journey was unhurried and without true destination. Of course, that wasn't to say he hadn't found scents of interest. Another pack was nestled nearby. Not close enough to alert them to his presence, but close enough that perhaps he may find a wolf or two wandering out in the wilds with him. While a game sounded like fun, it was a bit too early for his tastes.

Before wolf, actually prey would be on the menu first. He didn't worry himself with the multitude of chattering squirrels in the trees above, nor with the rabbits he'd spotted frozen in fear as he passed by. There were times when Z would kill anything that passed by, leaving a graveyard of shredded bodies in his wake for others to find later. If the birds didn't lay into the corpses first, it always brought him a thrill to hear about it later through rumor. His favorite targets for such massacres were foxes. For some reason, seeing their red hides running from him always got his blood pumping.

It had been chance that allowed the groundhog's scent to pass his nose. With a smile, he dragged his tongue languidly across his muzzle, tail giving a quick flick of pleasure. It wasn't much of a clearing along these ridges, but there was enough distance between them that the groundhog seemed to feel safe enough with holding eye contact with the green-eyed demon across the way. Z maintained his smile as he approached with unhurried steps. When he was within three feet did the marmot seem to recognize that he was indeed a potential threat. The animal dove for its den with Z's slavering jaws hot on its tail.

In fact, he captured the marmot by the tail, forcefully dragging it from its den while it yowled and screamed in pain and fury. Zerxes laughed between teeth clenched tight on the animal's hind end, avoiding each attempt by his prey to give a vengeful bite. To an onlooker, it could very easily look like a game between a youthful pup and his food. The illusion continued for a minute longer before Z grew bored of it. Tightening his grip, the wolf rose up on his hind paws, lifting the heavyset marmot in the air fluidly before forcefully slamming it to the ground. He repeated the action in quickening succession until the creature's skull was brutally battered into little more than mush. By the time Z dropped it, the marmot's face was misshapen and unrecognizable.

As if the beast were still alive, the lanky male gunned for its throat, shredding viciously through the carotid and jugular until blood peppered his muzzle and chest. Z lay down beside his kill, smiling with amusement as he watched the heart jettison blood from that open artery with decreasing strength as the organ finally died.

What a beautiful start to the morning!

With as much laziness as he had approached the animal to begin with, Z began to dine on its flesh.

(This post was last modified: Jun 23, 2016, 12:57 PM by Zerxes.)

"What a beautiful start to the morning!" 
Hahaha, I love him already.

Well, that had been a scene.

Merys eyed the agouti male cautiously, though curiously. He strode forward slowly, maintaining his distance appropriately. While he hardly had qualms with bothering loners, he did not have interest in playing Whose-Marmot-Is-It this morning either. Luckily, being a pack wolf had its perks.. however few they might be, being well fed was one of them. Having caches was the best thing, because you could eat to your heart's delight, and not worry about always finishing your meal or trying to find a place to hide it. Merys remembered his time between packs as a loner, when each meal had to be caught or scavenged. While the solitude was a strong contender for making being a loner worth it, he was getting by in White Fir Notch by having his cake and eating it too.. by never being there. That way, he had a place to come back to that was safe and warm, with food, but also wasn't forced to socialize all the time. It was a mostly-win-mostly-win situation.

"Careful, he almost got the best of you," Merys warned, his deep voice cutting the silence between them smoothly. Though not a genuine warning, Merys did not feel the need to sound overly playful with this male. He had not been looking for company, but the scent and squeals had caught his attention. Nor would he be surprised if the snacking wolf did not want his company either, and in such case, Merys would be more than happy to continue stepping. "A real killer, that one. You're lucky to be alive," he offered, raising an eyebrow in fabricated awe.

(This post was last modified: Jun 28, 2016, 12:06 PM by Merys.)

founding member | 2016

@Merys hehehe glad you like him! ;3

With muzzle and chest thoroughly bloodied, Zerxes looked up with unhurried curiosity to eye the stranger that had happened upon him. At the male's sarcasm, his lips peeled back into an appreciative grin baring equally bloodied teeth in a macabre manner. "He was," Z agreed with amusement as a slow drizzle began. The blood-stained wolf licked his muzzle and gave a lazy yawn that highlighted each of his teeth for the male to see. Despite having a meal already, if the pack wolf wanted a brawl, Z wouldn't mind giving it to him.

A pack wolf, but not one from that pack in the north. He came from the one Z had scented earlier if he were to hazard a guess. Cogs were already turning in his brain as he wondered how the pack's relations were with others in the area. Were there shaky alliances easily crumbled? Or would this take some investment on his part?

Either way, it mattered little to Z which way this game would be played. That he'd already landed a score so early in the morning was success enough for him.

Clearly unthreatened by the brown wolf's presence, the loner bent to tear into the soft flesh of the marmot's underside. Thin strands of muscle peeled through his teeth as he opened the abdomen efficiently. Pale green eyes lifted again to observe the pack wolf. "How is pack life treating you?" he asked conversationally while he ate.

Are you a man readily turned on his packmates or one loyal to the cause? was what Z truly wanted to ask. But such things hardly garnered loyalty and experience said it landed him with a great deal of suspicion right of the bat! The loner had learned since that time; it was best to play at diplomacy when considering a new ally of sorts. The wolf looked capable enough. He stood larger than himself and had the health available to him courtesy of having a pack at his back. All in all, a fine enough specimen to be actually useful. Zerxes never could have enough agents of chaos.

Sorry for taking so long. <3

Merys felt a suspicion growing in his thoughts regarding this wolf. Not for what he was doing -- no, he fairly regular in that manner -- but for the unknown that surrounded him. Loners were all different, so it was difficult to peg normal or abnormal behaviour for each one. In fact, Merys relished in finding loners because they were typically never-ending entertainment for him outside the mundanity of White Fir Notch. He shook off the 'strange' vibe he was getting, attributing it to just another new can-o-worms that he not stumbled upon before. He could be weird if he wanted to; perhaps it could benefit Merys' boredom, no?

"How is pack life treating you?"

A frown tugged at the five year old's features. He sincerely wasn't a fan of having his pack's scents define him like a flashing sign with lights. He saw himself as a helper-outer with their feeding business, in exchange for a few minor things. He did not see himself as a integrated member of their society in which he identified with. Nonetheless, it was what other wolves used to mark him one way or the other. There was nothing he could do about it, the Notchy smell had worked its way deep into his pelt. Every time he sought out the bear den to avoid the tourbillion storms that happened in this godforsaken place, it seeped a little more into his soul. A sin really, and to be honest, when he stayed in the packlands for a little too long, he almost began feeling comfortable and included. The main reason he made sure to get out of there frequent enough to remember that he served himself first, and then others. When there ceased to be more benefit than loss in the Notch, he would be moving on to bigger and better things. 

So, how to put that into conversational words? "It is what it is," he said flatly after a pause, reclining to a comfortable sit. "I treat myself more times than not," he admitted, though uncertain why he did. To ensure himself aloud that he was an independent woman? A sad fact that he had to admit to himself. "How is being forever alone treating you?" Merys could sympathize; he had been a loner for many months before even stumbling into Relic Lore. Sometimes he ached for true and undirected independence, but there genuinely was seldom else that could benefit a wolf like a pack could. A realization he had come to understand with the Notch, hence his lasting presence there. Also, the pups were new and needy.. and no one could fault them for who their parents were.

founding member | 2016

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

@Merys - no worries! take all the time you need <3

Z's brow lifted with amusement. "Oh, I'm not forever alone. Only intermittently." It was true; no matter where he went, the agent of chaos always seemed to find some fool to pull into his plans, often leaving them high and dry when the going got tough. Survival deemed it prudent to leave another holding the stolen carcass of a cache. Vivimus ut alteri bello, as they said.

Far from an egalitarian, Z couldn't find fault in the wolf's admitted manner of treating himself before his packmates. It was that kind of self-serving nature that had Zerxes quite enjoying loner life himself. No rules mandated where he eat, when he eat, with whom he must eat, or if he may eat at all. He made his own decisions without concern of who thought poorly of them, mostly because he left before it became an issue.

"As it turns out...I may be in the market for a wingman or two, if you were wanting a taste of loner life again." It was a serious offer despite the cheshire grin he wore. This one was competent. He needed competent, even if they were less willing to follow direction. But hey, if he followed an Alpha, surely he could follow Z as well. After all, he knew well how to play the part of leader. He'd been playing that game all his life.

This was turning into quite the interesting interaction after all, Merys decided. Lately, the wolves he had been meeting were summed up to damsels in distress and overzealous weasels. Oh, and that fisherwolf in the south, couldn't forget about him. This may or may not be the most interesting wolf he had seen ever since that far away time in that Glen. A place that he wondered if he would ever get back to. Or even go forward with the information he had learned from Gent about the piece of nightshade he had hidden away.. He inwardly shook his head; how quickly he could lose himself in those thoughts if he wasn't careful. What a sin, infatuation was. He pushed it out of his mind once more, and returned his focus back to the conversation at hand. 

The wolf offered himself to Merys, a strange thing for the wolf, though not unwelcome. In fact, it was mildly flattering. "I'm not sure what you would need a wingman for.." he began hesitantly, eying the smaller wolf that made Merys seem a sockdolager in comparison. Mates? Hunts? Missions? "But, I can assure you that the loner life, while freeing and meritorious in nature, is not as fruitful as pack life. No matter how much I wish it were the other way around," he said flatly. It was true. A pack could simply provide so many more resources than any one wolf could provide to himself. He was loathe to sit where he did not belong, but it was benefiting him right now, and until that changed, it was just where he was going to stay.

founding member | 2016

He was a reasonable man, this wolf. He understood the benefits of a pack were limited only to ease of living whereas loner life came with freedom. Of both, Z knew freedom was the clear choice to make, but not everyone had his confidence. He could understand that! Some days.

"Is it really all that fruitful when you're bogged down by so many laws? 'Go hunt, go scout, go fetch this for me, dear...'" Z mocked in a sickly sweet voice meant to be that of some asinine Alpha. The masked man lifted his lips in a tasteless sneer to voice just how he felt about being told what to do by others. "All that for a meal? You and I, we're quite capable of finding our own meals. This place is bountiful enough to supply us," he reasoned, his smile returned in full.

"A wingman provides the benefit of a pack without the downfalls of one." At least for Zerxes. The same would not be so for the wolf should he join him. He'd likely find himself regretting the exchange of leadership in one way or another. "We could be just a band of bachelors doing as we pleased! No rules, no regulations. Just us and the land and whatever we take from it." The male's voice was pleasant, painting it all in a pretty picture to entice the pack wolf to forsake his vows and come along.

Even if the wolf didn't decide to join him, Z saw no harm in making himself an ally of this one. "The name's Z, by the way. Pleasure."

All too quickly, Merys started to understand what this encounter’s true purpose was going to be about. It became very clear what this wolf was trying for, and he did not hide it. The five year old could not decide if he was mad at himself or not for still being tempted by the male’s painted picture. It was a beautiful ideal, freedom. He did not think it was what had dragged him from his first pack, so much as it was escape from tyranny; though it would certainly differ depending what side of the fence you had been standing on when he left.


He willed to keep his face straight at the wolf’s baiting, but he cracked a smile at the male’s ‘alpha’ voice. He could certainly appreciate a good joke at an alpha’s expense. To be fair, Gent nor Raela were entirely overbearing, though there would always be that umbrella of expectation that hung over any and all subordinates in a pack. He was not wrong, but not entirely correct either. Still, Merys let him speak on to finish.


“It seems to me that you’re lonelier than you care to admit, Z,” he said once he had finished. “I don’t think cotton-candy recruitment suits you, if I may be so bold,” he offered lightheartedly with a roll of his eyes in paranomasia, though his tone was entirely unapologetic for such ‘boldness’. His tail continued to flick curiously throughout though. It would not be mistaken that Merys might be sitting on some moral ground, standing up for pack mentality. He most certainly was not; but, as it stood, Z could not offer him anything more meritorious than what he already knew of loner life. “I think you might be holding onto the teenage boy’s dreams a little too tightly, still. It won't be long before your ‘band of bachelors’ simply turns into a raging, unscrupulous pack in all but name.” No matter how wonderful the dream of true and unwielding freedom could be..

founding member | 2016

@Merys

No one had ever accused Zerxes of being lonely. The very suggestion had one lofty brow rising high with amusement while his lips curled. To be completely honest, Z reveled in the state of singularity. In fact, the only way he knew in which to interact around others was to dominate them, charm them, bend them to his will as he saw fit. The concept of loneliness was something that escaped him completely.

"If you say so, friend," the male replied with a harder tone than he would have cared for. While it could be mistaken for Z not liking to be called out, he actually cared little for the purported bold manner in which the other male addressed him. Looking now, Zerxes could see the male was older than him. Likely more experienced as well, despite his preference to believe otherwise. No, this one would not be well suited to serving his purposes. He was already too rooted in his ways, in his comforts.

As his woven fantasy was insulted, it took great restraint for Z to not leap unexpectedly for the man's throat. A teenage boy's dreams? How conceited was this one? More than himself, obviously. The pack wolf's final words nearly pulled a conspirator's smile from the loner. A band of bachelors raving the lands and inviting chaos was exactly what he wanted, and with him leading the charge. An Alpha, in all but name. A bastardized semblance of a pack that was ruled by only what laws he saw fit. Teenage dream or not, he would make it so.

"And what would you suggest as an alternative?" the masked male asked.