Sex: MaleIt was a day of travel – something he didn't much mind. Early morning found him already alone, Hush having gone off to hunt or perhaps explore. They'd settled into what he had come to think of as the red forest (lacking the proper name, as he'd never spoken to any of the locals about the place) and as they had an agreed upon and shared den it was easier to simply come and go as they desired and know that eventually they could find each other at the den. So after a brief stretch of his cramped and aching shoulder, stiff as it always was every morning since his accident, he decided to set out with the intent of exploring further than he had since they'd arrived in the area.
Today he cut toward the sharply lined mountains standing on the not so distant horizon. He'd never crossed over the range before – but it wouldn't be his first mountain range roamed over – still he knew his lack of knowledge of the territory would slow him down. It was possible he'd be gone over night, it all depended on if what lay beyond the nameless range and it's soaring peaks was learning about. There was only one way to set out. Without so much as a backward glance he left the forest behind with only the barest hint of gray sunrise on the eastern edge of the sky.
As expected it was slow moving and the day grew hot – as the sun beat down mercilessly from a cloudless blue sky. He'd grown too used to the more mild weather of his previous home and his dark coat absorbed the heat of the day in a way that was naggingly irritating. When he finally crossed the range he was settled into the drumming rhythm of the long-distance trotting wolf. On the other side he discovered the snaking path of a calmly flowing creek, wide and shallow as it moved through heavily wooded foothills rolling from the base of the mountain range.
Sighing in relief he stopped for water and a brief rest in the shade of the strangely shaped leaves hanging from the trees above, considering what direction he might take now that he was on the other side of the range. The day was at it's hottest, the sun shifting just beyond it's zenith in the sky, he would wait a bit longer before heading out into the day to explore further.
When it came to venturing about, Shrapnel was decently versed in the art. In his relatively short time in the region, he had been etching his way through without too much opposition, gather minute details about this and that. He hadn't learned a whole lot from such things, ever wavering between staying a while longer or simply continuing onward. He was aware that it was abundant with life, both of the predatory kind and prey. It was lush, calm, and generally suited to supporting what he had seen. For the most part he kept back and observed things, but his paths had crossed with others a time or two. Some opportunities he had passed up, but in the case of the one he had currently set his eyes on... he debated the chance before him.
While the heat of the day did little to bother him, he had watched the creek bed before him come and go with a scant few others. Most had plodded on along after a drink, heading off to their own unseen missions (or lack thereof). But for the dark-haired individual he had set his sun-kissed, fiery eyes on, this one had stopped for a break. Whether or not came from a neighboring pack he could not ascertain, but he seemed moderately well. Perhaps no worse than wear in comparison. Then again, most everyone Shrapnel had crossed paths seemed that way; only few seemed relatively robust and comfortable in their outfittings. Maybe they were all venturing out, or maybe they had been displaced.
Regardless, his observations went from ways away to the gradual pace that now guided his earthy toned body towards the other; a light chuff escaping him as he drew near. He came meaning no harm, playing his part as a simple passer-by coming up along the shade and shore for a drink of the crisp water that babbled by. He regarded the ebony beast curiously but did not speak, instead taking his time to get his fill of the water and be looked upon the same way. He was never one to simply march up and start talking, never certain who was willing for conversation or for a fight. He doubted the latter in this scenario, but only just. Too many variables, he reasoned internally. Now it was simply wait and see.
The approach of a stranger nearly startled him – he became aware of a flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye just as the larger male made a soft sound of warning to alert him to his presence. Jericho turned his head to look at the approaching Shrapnel unabashed, he did not pretend that he'd known that he was being watched by the other, instead he adjusted to his surprise quickly and settled into his own watchful (though lacking eye contact) as the wolf lowered himself to drink from the quietly babbling creek before him. Out of the simple respect that one affords another he glanced away (though still keeping the other in his peripheral field of vision) as Shrapnel drank his fill.
When he was finished the other glanced out over the direction Jericho had been considering moving off in prior to his arrival – the dark wolf spared a glance that way before looking frankly back to this nameless stranger. He was big, huge, even – much larger than Jericho. He assessed the wolf with a warrior's eyes – seeing strength that could easily overpower his own while he simultaneously wondered if the other was skilled in battle. It wasn't that he was stewing for a fight – in truth the odds for this one were not in his favor anyway – but instead that he knew too well that he aught tread softly and be prepared for anything.
The wolf did not speak as Jericho had half-expected him to, instead he hovered there in silence, wordless. Jericho himself did not have anything to say, there didn't seem to be any thoughts swirling through his brain worth sharing with someone he'd crossed paths with at random. Truth was, most of the time he got involved in conversations with others because they engaged him in conversation, not vise versa. To make up for his lack of speech he canted his head slightly to the left, a silent hovering question of Shrapnel's intentions. Beyond that he hardly moved at all, posture carefully neutral.
It didn't take him long to quench his thirst, only long enough to see that he was noticed and that a simple survey had been done. Shrapnel couldn't help but notice that the dark sentinel had vivid blue eyes, which surprisingly complimented the features of his face. They were the polar opposites to the molten gold that consisted of his own eyes, and both colors seemed to burn with their own subtle fires. He noted the deference carefully, appeased that there didn't seem to be any trouble bound to stir from his bank side canine. While he didn't openly go searching for a spat, he did test the waters of those who came by. For the most part, he had yet to really encounter anyone who rubbed him the wrong way. A good sign, all things considered; Shrapnel was about as fresh to the terrain as they came. He needed information eventually, but hadn't tempted the borders of any packs he had sussed out by purpose or accident. But they existed, this he knew.
Lifting his head from the water, his eyes did not waver from the dark individual. Even as the droplets ran loose from his mouth and through the thin hairs of his jawline, he simply licked at his lips. "Feeling uncomfortable?" he queried with a cant to match what he had been given. If he had been privy to the thoughts of that icy-eyed wolf, he would have agreed with them. He was a fighter, but was also willing to believe that there were similar demons that lurked in the other. Decently sized, unabashed by where he chose to settle; to Shrapnel those were markers belonging to those who were brave enough to feel they didn't need to hide. Especially considering that neutral grounds weren't always necessarily neutral. But he laid no particular claim to anywhere yet, instead hunkering down at night in the open as long as the weather permitted. He wasn't permanent, not yet. He was just as transient as any of them that laid claim to nowhere in particular.
While the moments ticked silently by Jericho continued to size up the stranger, attempting to calculate on very little information if he should put a little distance between himself and this man. Soon his wondering mind was laid (at least temporarily) to rest – or at the very least he was distracted enough by Shrapnel's words to think of a reply before worrying over much else. At the question the right corner of his mouth twisted upward against his will, a small perhaps inappropriate smile quickly smothered as he responded. “A little.” A small shrug moved his dark shoulders.
Quietly he considered his options and then asked frankly, “More importantly, do I have a good reason to be nervous?” Might as well get it out of the way. Of course, it was completely possible that Shrapnel could lie to him to set him at his ease – or maybe if he wanted to attack it would be the excuse he needed to do so. Possibly he could simply admit they were random strangers meaninglessly bumping into each other in a nameless wood at a creek side and nothing would come of any of this at all. Irregardless of the listed outcomes or even the many others not mentioned, Jericho's pragmatic nature dictated that asking flat out was the best place to start. He could improvise from there.
Oh, so he was a little nervous about sharing some of the space between them. Shrapnel was willing to surmise that it was probably a good thing. After all, what harm had ever come out of being on guard? He smiled thinly with his companion, unaware that the act in itself could have been easily taken in another direction. But Shrapnel only cared whether or not he was being threatening or imposing when it completely benefited him. Here, he hadn't quite made up his mind. Nevertheless, he briefly drew his gaze away to study the bends of the water momentarily, pondering the question that followed swiftly at the heels of honesty.
"Don't we all?" he asked at first, musing aloud. He returned his gaze then, his brow quirked with interest. "These are strange lands, with strange creatures. No telling what could happen. Is it bad to be wary and alert in an unfamiliar place?" He had asked himself the same thing, over and over, time after time when he had come to many a new place. Even now, days into his exploration of the Lore, Shrapnel had yet to decide what he thought of it. There were the obvious things, the things that stood out to be eye-catching and exciting. But he wasn't interested in that any more. No, he was beginning to get curious about the nitty gritty beneath, wondering if underneath that abundant, lush facade lurked the same things that had fueled his childhood like a rampant wildfire.
"Now if it's me you're wondering about, I don't know what to tell you. It would depend on how this goes, how our meeting plays out into the overall story," he added on afterward, almost absently as a close-lipped grin spread across his maw. Sure, they could hit it off awesomely now, but later? Shrapnel wouldn't have been surprised if something drove them to be at each other's throats. Such was the way of the beast, such was the way of the chaos that had long lurked beneath his earthen exterior. He believed they all had such a thing inside, a subconscious if not unconscious, primal key just waiting for them to muster the energy and the right situation.
At Shrapnel's candid response he made a small, gruff, wordless noise of agreement. Jericho wasn't much of a philosopher but he supposed that the man was right – they all had good reason to be wary of the wide world. There were many a thing to be fearful of and while Shrapnel hadn't defined specifically if he were one of them or not Jericho supposed that was all the hint he really needed. It seemed more that the male wasn't certain what he himself desired to do as much that he was trying to keep it hidden from Jericho. On a certain level Jericho appreciated this honesty, though it did not ease his mind at all.
“I suppose we will find out, whether we will it or no.” Jericho said agreeably enough and not unwillingly. He was content enough to wait and see what the future had to bring him – he'd never really been a fan of being rushed into anything. If Shrapnel was going to try to give him a holy hell of a beating there wasn't much he could do about it except fight or flee when the time was right to do so. Until then he would pass the time in the most productive way he knew how. “Are you familiar with this area?” He queried, assuming that the male was living somewhere around here – though perhaps not in this forest specifically. It seemed possible that Jericho might be able to pull some useful information regarding the terrain from the wolf.
Yes, they would certainly have to see how things went. But for now he felt comfortable enough to let his own guard down, sinking to his haunches with a lazy yawn. By then he was met with another question, one that he had anticipated being asked by those he had come into contact with. As much as he would have liked to say that he was familiar with the area, Shrapnel hardly knew a thing about it. Yet. He knew there were packs around, but their names, like those of the territories he had been to, were unknown.
"No," he then said, seeing no reason to lie. It wouldn't have done him much good to venture down that path now anyway, seeing how he felt he could make the safe assumption that they were relatively in the same boat. Wayfarers from lands far away, greenhorns in a land well-packed with natives. But there seemed to be a fair number of them anyhow, and that was something that he didn't know how to take. Perhaps there had been some sort of turmoil that had led to quite an exodus, but that would mean that upheavals were common. And that was something he was familiar with.
So he opted for something else -- with another curious cant of his head, he spoke once more. "What do you know of this place?" He followed it up with a gesture, trying to convey that he meant more than just where they presently were. Any shred of information would be welcome to his almost greedy ears, and he was more than willing to share what he had gathered. Tools of the trade and all, thinking perhaps they'd be able to learn from one another.
Shrapnel's response wasn't entirely a surprise – there seemed to be quite a few loners living in the area (or so it seemed to him as thus far that was really all he'd managed to encounter in his scouting out of the surrounding territories). Usually so many lone wolves also meant a high number of wolves new to the area – if the packs around were worthwhile those wolves would eventually integrate themselves into one of them and if not it seemed typical that they would move on to somewhere new. Jericho did not verbally reply to Shrapnel's answer, he merely nodded in acknowledgment.
It seemed they were both on the same mental track and this alone made Jericho's wariness ease ever so slightly – his primary concern was in finding the lay of the land, seeking out good game trails, and generally setting himself and Hush up for survival for however long they might stay here. The more he knew about the area the better the chance he had of being successful. “Precious little.” He replied, a hint of frustration in his tone. “I've scouted on the other side of the mountain range – there is a lot of forested area there and some good game trails. My companion has found some excellent places to fish as well. On this side I know next to nothing, this is my first trip out here. I think the locals must be shy for I've met very few of them.” The wolves he had met had been like both Shrapnel and himself – new to the area, unattached to any pack that lived here.
He had no real questions to ask of Shrapnel as of right now – instead he left the conversation open to be pushed in whatever direction Shrapnel pleased for the time being. Perhaps he would share whatever tidbits of information he'd gathered on his own. If not they could go from there, truth be told Jericho wouldn't have been opposed to seeking out game here in the shade of the trees that were scattered along the banks of the slow moving creek. It was practically a guarantee that there would be some prey animals hanging around.For now he was content to linger sitting side-by-side with this stranger, sharing the sparse information that they had.
As he spoke, Shrapnel tumbled across something that he didn't quite expect -- this fellow wasn't travelling alone. If it weren't for the fact that they hadn't been interrupted, he may have thought said companion was lurking somewhere just beyond them. Close enough to listen, but maybe not watch or be seen. Regardless, what he also heard hadn't been out of the ordinary either. He had seen the game trails, seen the prey themselves, and had hunted when it was necessary. But it was the comment of the locals which made him almost snort to himself, though not from amusement. He too had yet to encounter too many from the packs around them, and he hadn't quite gone as far to acquire any of their names.
Shame really, because who knew if one of them may have been a fit? Not that he was quite looking to join anywhere in particular, not exactly being certain that he needed it just yet. He had done without one since he had left his birthplace, but then again he had also utilized the aid of companions from time to time. Miniturized packs themselves, if one were to consider more than one wolf a pack. "Perhaps they are shy," he theorized with a hum. "I haven't really bothered getting close enough to them to find out honestly. At any rate, this place is crawling with able bodies and plenty of food... would rather make it easy for them to stay around and work to keep their homes." He felt wordy then, but it was the truth. Had he come with any others, Shrapnel himself would have been tempted to claim a stake all of his own.
But as it were, he was just faceless in the crowd.