Willow Ridge it doesn't matter what you call me

@Isuni <3 Set the day before Skoll's challenge

There had been one wolf who stuck out from the rest, isolated by her foreign origins and apparent inability to integrate. Why she was here, Craw still had no idea - and, frankly, with every other member of Willow Ridge being of higher direct importance to the developing situation, he hadn't cared to find out. He had explained her avoidance of him as indicative of her nature, for she seemed to avoid everyone... but Morganna had implied that, perhaps, her anti-social behaviour around Craw was rather more personal.

That was more interesting.

With two sunrises down, and one to go, Craw wondered whether any of the other packwolves who had attended Morganna's meeting were counting them as eagerly as he. Would Skoll go through with it, would Nicolo take the bait, who would prevail? Did it matter? Hecate's days were numbered, and if Skoll behaved, so was he. The man had many faults but love for his child was not one; he had to prioritise his unborn whelps, lest risk them and his mate dying in the wilderness. Perhaps if he did not chase after his banished pregnant bitch, Craw would... Ruminating on that entertaining notion, he stalked through the trees, paying attention to little save for a whiff of the only true unknown element left to pin down.

A trail was caught and pursued, and only minutes later a flash of red in his vision immediately drew his attention. "Capable," he barked, before she vanished in a puff of smoke, for once not willing to give her the opportunity to avoid confrontation. That said, he made sure that his manner was not aggressive; the purpose of this wasn't to scare her off. He just wanted something, any hint of what was going on in her disagreeable head. Not waiting for her to acknowledge him, he trotted after her, ears twisted forwards and tail relaxed. "I was hoping for an opportunity to... start over."

“Capable!”

The bark shook a start from the younger wolf, for once truly taken off guard by the voice calling her.  For the briefest of moments, she thought to see Arrow in all his shadowy splendor, dark steel and glowing embers.  Almost Isuni’s polar opposites in all ways.  If he looked closely enough, Craw might have seen the hint of white around the woman’s eyes before she realized it was not a ghost following her, and only a wolf who wished to be a haunting specter.  Hackles settled back down upon her neck, for violence was certainly of no interest to the woman, but her ears remained flat as she allowed her packmate to approach.

They were packmates, after all.

One step backwards and she frowned, head lifting as she digested his words.  Odd, she thought.  They had been in the pack together for months now, and both seemed content as two satellites of the same moon, and never interacting with one another.  Alas.  They’d finally crashed, and Capable wasn’t sure she liked this evolution. “Why now?”

Her mouth snapped shut as the thought became a question without her conscious decision.  Ears flattened again, brow knitting together.  Best keep her mouth shut, she decided, and see what the man had to say for it.

bring me home, bring back what's stolen,

Capable

like you're supposed to

A wild dissertation appears!

He wouldn't have been surprised if the red woman hadn't decided to stop. What he would have done in that circumstance... Fortunately, Capable's social graces were well enough that she turned about, a brief flash of hostility writ all over her body - but whether that was truly directed at Craw or just because she had been startled (or something else?) she calmed, and accepted his company.

The question was predictably brusque. He'd been wrong to let this relationship fester in uncertainty for so long, and acknowledgement of his own failings towards Capable twisted his lips into a grim smile. "That," he wheezed, as he stepped lightly towards her, unconcerned by her standoffish manner, "is fair." At this point, he didn't really care if she would be an ally or an enemy, and had no real inclination to try and sway her to his side. He just wanted to know where her cards would fall, if indeed it had occurred to her at all. Such a reclusive creature... did she have any idea what was happening in the pack she was supposed to be living in?

"I don't know about you," he continued, stepping past her, pausing for a moment with a twitch of his tail and glance back over his shoulder, a request for her to follow. A request. He would make no demands of her; he could recall all too easily how unhappily-given her favour had been before the winter, back when he had needed her help. She had given it, and he was grateful, but oh to be grateful to anyone else, someone who deserved it. If she wanted to be a social pariah, so be it, but he held out the olive branch anyway. "But, to me, a strong, worthy pack can never consist of strangers. I should not have let this go for so long."

“No?” she quipped, brows perking back up.  Certainly hadn’t seemed that way to her.  Craw had made his intention quite obvious upon first they met.  She hadn’t abandoned him, simply because it was not in her to do so, but she’d rather thought he had no interest in her company any further.  It was a mutual feeling, really, for that encounter had left her with bruised pride and an aftertaste that reminded her far, far too much of home.

It would be wise to simply leave now, Capable knew.  Perhaps entertain conversation long enough to be polite without getting anywhere deep, and then find a reason to depart.

Alas!  Curiosity gnawed at her gut, and if she lingered, her brevity would be short lived.  Ears eventually flipped forward, and she allowed him the single step closer.  Not another one, she mentally marked out, and tipped her head to one side.  The thought was an odd one, even coming from the wolf she’d marked as much more ambitious than herself.  She simply wanted a place to live, and a role to fulfill.  She wanted to live without that constant violence.  That was enough.  Craw, though.  Why had he chosen Willow Ridge?

“It isn’t your pack,” she murmured softly, one ear out the side. “It is all Archers.”

bring me home, bring back what's stolen,

Capable

like you're supposed to

A wild dissertation appears!

She didn't move, neither forwards or back, save to tip her head at him. Was that progress? He had no idea how to interpret her subtle movements - or lack of them. Her motivations and intentions were an opaque wall. How had he been able to abide such an unknown quantity for so long? It was only because she was so solitary, so disconnected from the rest. Her sharp retort was just another piece which showed her fire, her antagonism - was she content with that life? Being so alone and separate from the rest of the pack? 

An ear twitched as he suddenly considered the possible implications of that. She had made no connections in this pack he was aware of. No history. No prejudices, save, perhaps, for one against him. When her soft-spoken observation reached his ears, prompting another flick, he looked at her, seeing her slightly differently.

"You are right," he rasped quietly, yellow eyes fixed on her warm ones. "We are all foreigners, us two and @Wraith. The others in the pack who are not Archers, they have history or... other significant relationships." @Hecate's telltale scent was getting impossible to hide, Capable must have noticed it. If he hadn't known what was coming, the insubordination of it would have made him furious and excited in equal measure; watching @Skoll sabotage everything in his short-sighted self-indulgence was getting to be a delight. "But we are not insignificant, Capable. You have ability - I saw it when you tore the throats from those pigs. You don't need this pack to survive, but it could need you."


He licked his lips, watching her, remembering the long cold night as his blood loss slowed. That she had stayed. "Why are you here?"

(This post was last modified: Apr 05, 2016, 06:10 AM by Craw.)

   

The relationships comment earned an unamused snort – oh, she’d noticed the change in Hecate’s scent alright, but she was not about to enquire as to the female’s personal life.  The ghastly female had shown no interest in her, and the feelings were quite mutual.  Where that left Enoki, she wasn’t certain, but had gotten the feeling the piebald female had been with the Willow Ridge pack for quite some time.  Habits were hard to break, even when they became tiresome, simply because they were comfortable.

“Do you remember,” she asked, eyes narrowing slightly, “how you doubted my capability upon our first meeting?” Perhaps he’d changed his mind to some degree, watching the massive female tear the life right out of one of the offending boars, only to turn about and attempt to blind the second while Wraith made for the kill.  She held no fear – until she found herself in positions like this.  How could she stand to an angry sow, she wondered, but find herself so wary of conversation?  She could rip out Craw’s throat, probably.

Even if she didn’t harbor any kind feelings towards the man, she didn’t particularly want to commit murder.  Perhaps that was the difference.  He was a wolf.  Perhaps that was everything.

“I joined because winter was coming.  I was hungry, and tired.  Morganna seemed interesting, she invited me.  She spoke of family, but I suppose I was ignorant of the empire the Archers held here.  Skoll invited me, as well.  He had been...more honest, I suppose.  He was interesting, as well.”  But once settled in, she realized it was no different than the Rahal reign of Moose’s Tooth, except she would never have a chance at leading the mountainside pack.  Perhaps she should have joined Nios’ pack, instead.  “I stayed because I intend to carry my worth, not simply empty a cache.  And I have.” An elk, those boar – not to mention plenty of other small animals in the meantime.  But what was keeping her here now?

The woman glanced off over Craw’s shoulder, staring into the distance.  In truth, she supposed she did not know…

bring me home, bring back what's stolen,

Capable

like you're supposed to

A wild dissertation appears!

There is a moose carcass that has been scavenged by coyotes nearby. +15 Health

Inevitably, she brought it up, that brief sliver of pre-Archer history they shared. In most ways, Craw was completely changed from that half-dead and near-broken creature she had helped to save. He smiled thinly at her barbed question, only snorting in amused acknowledgement of its sentiment; he clearly didn't think that anymore. But if he was honest, he couldn't remember much if what they had talked about, only that he had tried to carry himself as though he was still a wolf which meant something and not some bled-out starving loner. She had stayed, he recalled that. While he disliked being indebted to those he did not trust or understand, perhaps acquiescing to her truth would allow him some small glimpse of who  she was behind all the hostility. Or perhaps it was just bitterness and anger all the way down.

She spoke of perfectly valid reasons for a stranger to join a strange pack, and indeed they matched up largely with his own. He had found Morganna to be more than a little interesting, of course, but the similarities were there. A woman of pragmatism, if she spoke it true... He could respect that. But there was a hesitancy in the way she broke eye contact, a measure of doubt, which drew his attention. "We are not that different, then," he said quietly, wondering if she would take offence, wondering if she wanted to dislike him or if she needed the show of solidarity. If whatever he had said back in that long, dark night had irreparably harmed her opinion of him then it was no loss, she was a nothing in this game by her own inaction and isolation, but Craw did so enjoy turning nothings into somethings if he gained from it.

   

Hostility, as it were, was utterly exhausting.  It cost so much to be aggressive, and at the moment, the young wolf did not have the resources to expend when such antagonism would not serve her beyond leaving a negative impression in someone’s mind.  Now, she wasn’t certain she wanted to have any sort of the wolf who’d managed to rile her so while he was half-dead, but he at least seemed to respect her hunting prowess.  That was something, she supposed.  Something she would have never been awarded back in Moose’s Tooth.

“Maybe.  Maybe not,” she replied, unconvinced they shared more than a lack of Archer blood and the lone wolf’s need for shelter when the cruelest months of the year arrived.  But it was still something, she supposed, and she allowed the man a bob of her head in acknowledgement.  The ‘still something’s seemed to piling up slowly. 

She tipped her head towards him as a thought occurred – a second followed quickly, most likely inspired by her encounter with Wraith upon the mountain top.  (Foolish boy.)  “Why do you stay?” she asked.  This wasn’t his empire.  By the looks of things, there were several Archers he’d have to displace if he had such intentions.  “Did you fuck the alpha too?”

 She smelled pregnant, now.  But Capable had to ask – if Morganna was so willing to throw her tail up for Wraith when they had no real relationship, who else would she offer her womb to?

bring me home, bring back what's stolen,

Capable

like you're supposed to

A wild dissertation appears!

omfg her sass is killing me

It was as warm an answer as any he could hope for, he supposed, watching her with a wry smile as she nodded at him. When he had been preparing himself for outrage at the mere suggestion, her curt acknowledgement was positively friendly. He inhaled, ready to respond, when suddenly her eyes lifted to meet his with some fresh thought shining bright behind them, and he paused, only to hear a question which was becoming quite common to hear. Was it so unusual for an humble, down-to-earth man to simply eke out an honest life in someone else's thriving pack?

Heh.

But it was her second question which was the gem, his thin smile breaking into a toothy grin as he snickered, careful composure broken by her humour. The first, dull question was all but forgotten. "Which one?" he smirked, tail whipping from one side to the other. "No, I'm probably one of the few this side of the mountain who didn't." He really had no idea who and how many Morganna had enticed, save for Wraith, for she was purposefully vague and he didn't really care. Her choices made sense; the children were hers before anyone else's this way. Craw was glad that he had resisted the power of her heat; he would not have been so inclined to share as Wraith was. Still amused at her exceedingly blunt manner (such were all willow wolves, Archer or not) he regarded her somewhat anew, wondering if the question had been a jest or an accusation.

"And what is it to you who she rutted with?" he said airily, an ear perking forwards. "It's her decision to make, and her right as lead to make it."