Grizzly Hollow there's a third party, out there.

For @Rook -- backdated for April 20th, set roughly midday.

To come back to the borders from which he’d been chased was not something Kjell Sørenson had been particular keen on. But being alone for so long could wear on a man, and seeing Pip? Knowing she was alone just now? Shit, his father might not have taught him much, but Søren had made it clear that the wolves of Ered Luin were no damn cowards.

So he came. Slowly, but surely, and he even laid a goose by his feet as he approached the borders of Grizzly Hollow. Recently returned from the migration south, the bird wasn’t magnificent by any means, but surely it was more impressive than a rat or a squirrel or something. The dragon gave a small huff, glancing inwards, towards the territory. If there was any small boon, it was that the lead male’s scent was missing. Sure, his little demon still seemed to be around, but…

Maybe, if he didn’t have to deal with Veho, he’d have better luck.

The swarthy male gave a small bark, and then a second. He had no desire to summon anyone other than the current lead – even Pip might be more danger now. If he flubbed this, he’d rather she not witness…

Aw, yuck, Snowmaggedon still continues on this day...

Mid-day; Moderate snow; 23° F, -5° C.

Since he had risen that morning, Rook had been unable to shake the relentless chill that plagued his bones. It would seem that Veho's departure had made the weather worse, as if he were the pack's personal clouded sun keeping the snow banks from piling up any higher. It had done nothing but snow, snow, and snow. With his head bowed down, he traversed towards the outskirts of the territory. The sound of his chattering teeth that had been his main companion since he had started his stroll had abandoned him by the time he made it to the borders.

He trailed after Nineva's tracks for the most part, branching away from it only when it seemed like he was just minutes away from running into her. He couldn't have that. Not again. Forging a new path, he moved to where the trees grew a little further apart. Surely he would find a familiar landmark soon enough and go from there, check for suspicious footprints and so on.

It wasn't until when the scent of fresh kill reached his nose that he looked up and stopped in his tracks. He was familiar with the scent of goose but he had only tasted it - just a bite - on one occasion, a boastful show of triumph made by one of his older siblings. That had been a long time ago, when he and Bishop had just begun eating solid food, and yet the memory had been recalled by a simple whiff of something familiar. Without the two barks to summon him back into the present, he might not have truly noticed the rogue there. Dark and undoubtedly handsome (according to his mental little black book, anyway), the brute stood, perhaps, only just a little taller than he did. If it came to a scuffle, Rook felt he had it in him to chase him off. Doubts aside, however, the Lyall decided to investigate.

He held his head up high now, chest slightly puffed out as he regarded the swarthy stranger. For a moment, he just stared, cautious as ever. His tail lilted from one side to the other, a sign of mere curiosity. A step or two closer and he offered a bark of his own, a simple, "Hello?"

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

Well. Progress, Kjell supposed, eying the wolf that approached him. The male did not make any alpha-like posturing, but… Frankly, there was only one male scent on the border. The rest were females, dominated by that pregnant stench, though there were others. Did he really want to get involved with this?

Shit, if he didn’t want to get involved, he shouldn’t have accepted what Signy was offering.

The loner cleared his throat, his posture remaining neutral as his mind raced. He weaved, shifting his weight from side to side, claws kneading into the muddy ground. Pressing his ears forward, the swarthy male dipped his head, and tried again as he fixed his single golden eye on the stranger. “Hello,” he rumbled, his voice hoarse from disuse. “M’ name’s Kjell Sørenson. You are – yer th’ alpha here, yeah?”

Not the silver male that had chased him off, but that wolf was missing. (Thank the Mother for small blessings.) “I am…” Shit. He was really in for it. “I’m Signy’s mate. An’ I wanted t’ be with her – an’ don’t wanna ask her t’ leave. She’s happy here. But I-- Whatever I gotta do, I guess. ‘ll do it. She jus’ ain’t gotta be alone.”

His greeting was returned. Rook's head canted to the left, the only cub-like characteristic he kept from his younger days. Whenever he was curious about something, eager for a story or puzzled by the way some strange creature did something that wolves typically didn't do (ie. when turtles hid in their shells or when caterpillars started spinning what looked like icky, sticky white bird nests around themselves). It had been the bane of Bishop's existence long ago and now it was a telltale sign that he had become the audience. Rook's nose kept wriggling as he sniffed, trying to glean any sort of non-verbal information off the man as he relayed his name and questioned his position.

The masked man kept quiet, swallowing when he looked into the other's face and realized that where there had once been a gleaming eye was now nothing but a dark patch beneath the rogue's right brow. Titan's eyes were blue; Beren's were orange like the setting sun. They weren't truly familiar but there was something... and that something was out of place. Something that Rook could not put his paw on. While he was reminded of his brother-in-law, Rowan, the speech and voice did not fit. There were no monikers in use here. He would take this 'Kjell' and his information at face value.

He would not let on that he was not the Leader of these lands, but he was definitely acting in Veho's place. Rook gave a small nod, not particularly confirming the fact, but at least showing that he was indeed listening.

"I am," Rook's head straightened and his tail continued to wag, interests piqued as the brute went on. "I’m Signy’s mate." Here was here the Lyall was cast into partial confusion and doubt. Well, maybe there were aliases involved after all, and if Kjell had come to try and see to Oula or Pip, he was going to initiate an interrogation to get the correct information. Just hearing that he would do whatever it takes to be with her was not enough. Veho had taught him that.

"I'm Rook Lyall of Grizzly Hollow," he introduced himself, wariness laced in his very words as he eyed man. "There is no Signy here, unless there is some other name she goes by; it's common practice in these parts. I can appreciate your diligence, your... honesty, but I can't imagine you'd want to join us to find that she isn't here." Something a frown ghosted across his face. For one reason or another, he couldn't fathom the idea of Oula, a battalion commander in all her graces, 'hooking up' with this kind of character. But for Pip... oh, he felt all those feelings that a protective older brother got when first meeting his younger sibling's significant other; and, for being the baby in the family, the emotional pull of these new feelings had started to take him on a ride. "What does she look like?"

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

Shallow water has trapped several fish in a small pond. Hunt Opportunity

Rook Lyall.

Nope. Didn’t ring any bells. But as the wolf continued speaking, it slowly began to dawn on the loner that of course he didn’t. For all the conversations he’d had with his little love, it wasn’t as if she could share the names of people or places. Signy was a name he’d given her. Whatever she called herself, he had no idea, and her pack? It probably wasn’t either of those things. How would she be able to tell them, if she couldn’t tell her?

“She’s yer fisher,” he huffed, his single eye narrowing slightly. “Y’know. Awful small. Real sweet. Reddish brown. Her eyes ‘re like sunset.”

What the hell else was he supposed to say? He had no idea what rank she was, or if she had any family. Didn’t know where she came from, she couldn’t tell him those things. It was terribly frustrating, and all at once, Kjell regretted his decision not to involve the woman in this. He had thought to spare himself the embarrassment; instead, he was making a damn fool of himself as the new alpha had no idea who he was talking about. How many pregnant wolves were there, that this was such a question…even if he wasn’t using the pack name?

“She’s yer fisher,” Rook was all ears, not easily fazed or intimidated by that single-eyed squint. He had the higher ground, something that the rogue wanted. One wrong word, one wrong move, and Rook was in the position to deny Kjell his little Signy. Between him and Veho, Rook knew that Veho would not appreciate any other man who came and went as he pleased while mooching pack resources. He had accidentally tested that boundary before. “Y’know," Kjell had continued. "Awful small. Real sweet. Reddish brown. Her eyes ‘re like sunset.”

At first his mind had gone to Amaryllis' with her smaller frame and tawny coat, but where sunsets were involved, Rook remembered the way Pip looked at him from just a few days ago. With Oula and Nineva easily towering over him, Rook had no doubt now that Kjell spoke of his little bird.

It was his turn to give something of a judgmental look, trying to imagine a little chirping Pip fawning over the stranger. A few blinks of his bi-colored eyes brought him out of thought as he saw Kjell now, alone with that dead goose at his feet. It was plausible, he decided; but, only when he drew closer to fully size up the other male, black-tipped tail in the air and all, did he realize he did recognize something: Pip's scent.

Rook walked in a circle around him, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Kjell, at the end of the day, was an average wolf with a missing eye who had misplaced his heart. If he wanted to be with Pip, Rook couldn't deny him. If Pip wanted him, however, was a different story. Half a smirk formed on his muzzle and his tail began it slow wave from side to side again. "You must mean, Pip," he divulged. "We were wondering if you were ever going to show up." He paced back to where he stood before, standing opposite of Kjell, "She's expecting you know." Whether or no he had known this already, Rook just wanted to be sure that the other man knew. "Hers will be one of three litters born this year... next to mine." This bit of information he wielded like a barrier. "She's been placed on probation in accordance to pack law, but we welcome the cubs all the same. To have you around, frankly, would be beneficial to us - if you'll stay. My partner and I would be glad for any help we can get to prepare for the younglings."

He was about to end his spiel there until the curiosity came back to nip him in the rear, "So, what's your story anyway? The cubs are due soon. Why show up now?"

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

“Pip? I guess.”

Mother Above, that’s what these wolves were calling her? Pip? Because those were the noises she made? Hell, that was only one step above ‘Chirp’ or ‘Peep’. Shit, that was barely better than just calling her something like ‘Mute’. Why did she stay here?

It was all Kjell could do to keep from growling at the careless man, fur bristling along the length of his tail. He wanted to flash his teeth – but this wasn’t the wilderness, and he wanted something from this wolf. “I know. I’ve seen her.” He wasn’t a damn deadbeat. Kjell flicked his tongue against his teeth. “Yer alpha – other alpha – partner – whatever he is, he chased me off with that lackey of his. Sure as hell ain’t been here, wasn’t welcome. Ain’t any good to Signy if ‘m dead.” Or maimed. More maimed than he was at the time.

“Look. ‘m here fer her. Because this is where she wants t’ be. Been on my own fer years – was a hunter up in Widow’s Peak for a bit before – I can carry my own. And her. And whatever many cubs she has. So y’can take care of yers, ‘er whatever.” Hell, for all he cared, Rook could go singing in the moonlight in his spare time. His business, and his family, was his own. As long as the big, burly silver beasts didn’t come after him again, Kjell would be (fairly) satisfied.

(This post was last modified: May 02, 2017, 06:12 PM by Kjell.)

The guy was sharp. Rook had to give him that. Most had assumed when Rook said "partner," that his significant other was female. Typically, it was interchangeable with "lover" and "mate," but he made sure to keep the words separate when referring to his loved ones. Matters aside, Kjell didn't care what Veho was to Rook, so long as it was pointed out. They had met before and it had ended with Kjell buffeted back out in the wilderness - presumably when he had tried to visit Pip.

"It's a pet name," he clarified to the brute's first statement after he had revealed what had happened. "We actually aren't sure what her name is." He supposed he was mainly speaking for himself, but the main thing was that he wanted Kjell to keep calling her Signy, just as he would keep calling Pip "little bird." "But I'm glad you came back and I'm sorry if my other half and the guard he was with were not as kind. You'll have to understand, between two men and--" he counted in his head the names of the women in the pack, "the five women we have to our little family, we're quite protective. Most especially of your Signy."

There was something of a kind smile that tugged at the corners of Rook's mouth, a show that he was done interrogating him. He raised a left paw to casually point at the dead bird still at Kjell's feet. His tone was lighter now, "Your gift. Is it for her?"

(This post was last modified: May 02, 2017, 06:37 PM by Rook.)

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

He’d say there wasn’t any need to be protective of his little gem, that she could take care of herself. And the latter half of that statement was true. But only this summer he had chased off the brute who’d harassed her. Who knew what else lurked in the cedar woods? And now that Signy was expecting pups… The wolf sighed. While he supposed he could not blame an alpha for protecting his pack mates, he was fairly certain the vehemence with which the pair had gone after him was not warranted. He’d been hanging around, after all. Not raiding pack caches, not actually burdening the group, but still being present for his mate.

But it was water under the bridge now.

Sort of.

The offenders weren’t here, and Kjell would deal with them later. Shifting his weight from one side to the other, he shook his head. “Nope. Brought it t’ prove myself. Ain’t jus’ gonna say ‘m a hunter and ‘spect ya t’believe me.” He leaned down, nosing the goose towards Rook’s feet. Frankly, he had no idea if his own partner even liked birds. He’d get the woman what she actually wanted. “Figured I could hunt for her after. Or fish. Whatever she wants. One step at a time.”