Windsong Fjord freaking out the neighborhood

@Namir || Afternoon, Fog, 53 ° F, 12 ° C

It seemed as though this fog would never lift. The fog had been present in the woods, the fields and now this hell hole. He didn't even have a proper clue as to where he was and half the time he felt like he was about to fall off a cliff. Perhaps it was for the best that the fog hid what the treacherous slopes led down to below. One wrong move on his current path and that would be the end of Saros Andromeda-Tainn. What a pitiful end for the yearling who wanted to rule the world.

He was panting as he was reaching the peak incline of the rugged trail. Saros had not been prepared for any of this. It was such a change to the rye fields. The whole time he was pondering turning back and now he wished he really had. Of course, he figured this couldn't go on forever. Eventually, he'd have to hit a flat patch of land or lower altitude. That was if he hadn't walked himself straight into a mountain pass. Bleh. The thought alone was enough to make him halt in his tracks.

Saros really needed to stop and think everything out for a moment. Where the hell was he going? What was his purpose out here? Maybe he needed to come up with a hobbyhorse.

Saros is currently going under the alias Big Buzzard or Buzzard - thanks to a name given by Namir

Namir had a sneaking suspicion – okay, it was more than a sneaking suspicion – that she might have been better off if she’d stuck around the borders of that pack a little longer. Shit, she didn’t even know the name of it, but the puppies liked her. And wasn’t that a sad sort of affairs? Wasn’t considering joining. Didn’t know any of the adults. But she was friendly with the puppies, and sometimes they fed her and damn, when did her life get so damn pathetic?

The loner gave an angry bark, to no one in particular except maybe herself, and trudged forward into the endless fog. It seemed the wrong time of the year for it, but then again, she hadn’t seen much of it in the desert where she was raised. The water air was weird. She didn’t like it much – or at all.

Oh, but maybe she shouldn’t have been thinking about it so hard. The loner crashed into another and snapped her teeth, ears flattened against her skull as she skittered back away from the older wolf. Her tail swept closer to her hocks as she shook her head, narrowing golden eyes at him. “Where th’ hell are we?”

Things weren't fine and dandy but they only kept going downhill when he felt someone bump into him and the sound of teeth snapping. He was quick to face her. Ebony lips pulling back to expose ivory teeth that were far too eager to greet flesh. Yet he held back, for now, giving them only as a warning to the smaller female that had snuck up on him.

"Shit if I know." He snarled as Viridian eyes met her golden ones. "Just got here." It wasn't like this place stank of him. He may have marked one tree in his passing but it wasn't as if he could just hold it in until he got to this magical destination he didn't even have in mind.

His tail lashed about behind him but his lip lowered down. Saros' face was more or less just holding a glare. He thought he would have heard her or even smelt her but maybe all this fog was throwing his damn senses off kilter. She should have counted herself lucky he didn't get to startle and just happened to knock her off the side of the trail into the unknown below. As much as the idea sounded appealing, he needed every resource he could get right now. Even if that came in the form of clumsy lone wolves.

Saros is currently going under the alias Big Buzzard or Buzzard - thanks to a name given by Namir

Oh, great. Another asshole. She was better off when she was running into other girls – or puppies. Hell, she’d had the best luck with the kids! At least they fed her. And they definitely didn’t yell at her. Little Crow’s ears flattened further against her skull but her tail didn’t move, uncertain exactly how to read the stranger. Not only was he rude, but he was rude and useless.

“Y’were here first.”

Which, you know, didn’t mean much if he’d only been there for five whole minutes or whatever, but that was hardly Little Crow’s problem. He was the oaf in the way. But it didn’t solve her problem, and considering how the last meeting went that started just like this? The sandy brown wolf sighed softly before taking a deep breath, trying to find some kind of peace or center or some other bullshit that would allow her to not yell at this guy and benefit in some level – at least more than just wasting her energy on him.

“Well, I’m gonna find m’way down there an’ get a drink. Runnin’, an’ all that. Probably safe.” Wasn’t the same kind of water problems up here. As much as she missed the desert and the heat and the sun, she supposed this forest did have some of its own benefits. “Y’all can come, if y’ain’t gonna be an ass. ‘er stay. Yer call.”

And down she went.

He didn't hide his eyes rolling. This girl had quite the head on her shoulders, didn't she? Couldn't she see that he was lost in the fog just like her? Just because he had happened to beat her to the top didn't mean he knew where the hell the top exactly was. He could be back in the north again and likely not even know it. Except he would likely know it because there'd be more fat pack wolves and pale weirdos hounding him instead of another loner like himself.

A brow raised softly as she spoke her short-term plan. Well, shit. What was he supposed to do, huh? Dumb gods had sent him a nasty gift - the lone female - who was gonna be his ticket out of this place. Did he say no to that? If she was leading the way then that guaranteed he wouldn't be the first to slip and fall straight into the foggy purgatory below, hopefully.

The large yearling huffed softly and followed after the tawny female. Maybe once they got down there he could figure out just where he had wound up this time. And a drink didn't really sound all that bad either. Saros wondered if this girl really did have a clue what she was doing...

Saros is currently going under the alias Big Buzzard or Buzzard - thanks to a name given by Namir

If she could hear his thoughts, Little Crow might have very well laughed out loud. Nasty gods indeed, sending her a useless boy like this. Couldn’t find his way down to water – thought she’d fall first. Hah! Growing up in the desert didn’t mean she grew up where it was strictly flat – it meant it was arid, and that was that. In fact, the little bandit had a fair bit of knowledge when it came to scaling steep slopes. Her small size meant she was Orin’s first choice whenever there was something he wanted upon high, and it was up to her to make it back down in one piece. If she fell, it was hardly the alpha’s problem. It wasn’t like she was worth a damn thing, not as the omega’s child. Not without his blessing.

So she picked her way down to the bottom of the fjord’s side carefully, caring little for the ability of the wolf behind her…or if he followed at all, really.

The fog lifted (albeit only slightly) by the time Little Crow reached the rushing stream and she sighed, satisfied as the cool water ran down her throat. Felt good. It was the little things. She shook her head, flinging water everywhere as she eyed the older yearling. “Well, y’got a name there, ‘er ‘m I gonna have t’ give ya one? Also, stop mean-muggin’ me. I ain’t done a damn thing and y’all ‘er scowlin’ like I shoved a stick up yer ass.”

He followed only a few paces behind her, not wanting to get lost again in this fog. Now with someone else around, he wanted to keep an eye on them. Saros didn't want to be ambushed anymore or have surprise visitors with the worst attitudes on the earth. At least she wasn't like that fat male back in the woods. Anyone was better than him with his prodding and sly words.

The sound of moving water got louder the closer he got and for a moment he considered smiling but that thought was quickly wiped away by the words of his company. Was he really mean-mugging her? Saros thought he had already cleaned his face of the dirty looks but they were more or less natural by now. Not to mention the idea of a stick up his ass was enough to truly pull his face into a more neutral state.

"Go ahead and give me one." He smirked and went to drink from the water. Saros was all ears on what this gal thought his name should be. If he didn't like it he could always give her his real name.

When he raised his head he didn't bother shaking the droplets clean. He savored their soothing touch as his eyes looked over to the tawny yearling close-by.

Saros is currently going under the alias Big Buzzard or Buzzard - thanks to a name given by Namir

Little Crow couldn’t help her laugh, little droplets of water dripping from her whiskers as she took a step back, finally giving the stranger a thorough once over. The white mark on his forehead was kinda cute, but other than that? Well, he was pretty plain. And bossy – like the rest of the boys. It wasn’t any different than the wolves in Crow’s Crossing, alpha or not. As soon as he was out of sight, they puffed their chests and barked real loud.

Like a turkey vulture.

Would he vomit at her if he got too worked up?

The youngster bit her lower lip, struggling valiantly against the smile threatening her mouth. “Buzzard,” she replied, biting on her tongue. Fuck, she wanted to snicker. Unless he’d been way south of these woods, there was probably no way this asshole knew what a buzzard even was. And it sounded kind of cool, right? Maybe he’d roll with it.

“Y’ain’t lil’ though. So just Buzzard. Big Buzzard.” She ran her tongue over her lips and turned, starting to pace the shoreline, paws squishing against pebbles and sand as she searched the stream for a slower current, or somewhere shallow enough to wade in. There were probably fish here. She glanced over her shoulder and raised a brow. “Y’good fer anythin’, Buzzard?”

"Buzzard,"

Well, that was certainly a name if he ever heard one. Then she went on to explain that he wasn't just any buzzard he was dubbed Big Buzzard. Wasn't all that bad. He was expecting something worse like asshole or bastard. He supposed that Buzzard was a better B word than the latter. "You got a name?" A momentary smile traced his lips as he watched her move along the shore all sly and the like. He was content to watch her do her thing but she seemed to have other ideas.

"Suppose so. This bulk isn't just fat and I'm not all talk." He smirked and moved a bit closer to her position. "What ya need?" A brow raised out of pure curiosity. She had seemed so confident and able so what could he do that she didn't think she could? Or was she just testing him? Saros was constantly coming up with quick (and likely inaccurate) conclusions but he couldn't help it. There was a strong urge to know everything within him. Maybe it was because of that Tainn blood running through him.

He crept closer to the edge of the water, letting it lap at his toes for a moment before pulling back. Saros wasn't feeling like taking a swim here today. Or ever really.

Saros is currently going under the alias Big Buzzard or Buzzard - thanks to a name given by Namir

“I’m Lil’ Crow. Little. Little Crow,” she introduced herself, eyes twinkling at the thought. She was pretty little, at least compared to the slab of meat trailing behind her. And she was smart, real smart – a little thief, just like the crows the pack had named themselves after. (Of course, little did the wolves know, the black birds that often stole and plotted were ravens, but that was neither here nor there. Crow’s Crossing just had a real good ring to it.)

Eventually, they came to an ebb where the watered slowed, and Namir waded in, halfway up her forelimbs. There she stood, studying the bottom of the stream as she waited for those little silver flashes to grow brave and start approaching her legs.

“I ain’t needin’ much, not right now. Not yet,” she murmured, voice softer as she waited for the fish. They were just in the corner of her vision, moving slowly, carefully closer, but no where near enough for her to lunge. “Not unless y’know a Fallen Tree Cave. Or a Namid. Or a Kagickah. ‘m lookin’ fer them an’ their pack.” Which was probably pretty obvious, but you never could tell with a brute, just because he asked a good question.