his word

setting is twilight <3 please let @Nagito post first, and then open to @Runar + whomever u wanna tag in <3

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sprawling weald was rife with birdsong even as night came to lay upon the land. deer leapt across their path, and the king stopped with a jerky step. "far enough, i think," ælfrǣd in crisp tone. he did not want to be accused of invasion; his meet here must go as well as he was able to guide it.

with a royal and a lord, he felt, it was more easily done than not. he had brought no swords either; the only declaration of his title would be what was said here today. with no threat and a good deal of vulnerability, they had come to this potential lion's den. for a long moment he gazed at the moonwoven lord, then lifted his chin and squared his shoulders.

ælfrǣd called then, a polite request rather than a summons. yet there carried some edge of — his own nobility, perhaps.

"now. we wait." he fought off the nerves once more, feeling the familiar sickening tug in his belly.

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The travel was a short one, but pleasant. Their stomach filled with rabbit that the King himself had caught for them both, and given the fox the larger share, even. Nagito had met many royals in their time, kind and not, but none had ever gone out of their way to feed their servant better than themself.

Their new King was an interesting one. Perhaps a bit too generous for his own good. They had been fortunate to come across him, they admitted to themself.

Stopping just short of the mountain - that was right, for wolf packs often had strong markers of their lands - the golden-eyed man tilted his head back and sang a song for their attention. Nagito settled beside him, a touch behind, and would remain quiet for the duration of the interaction unless directly addressed.

A flicker of their own nerves flitted about like butterflies in their stomach. Nagito had been fortunate to meet a wolf who would not make a meal of them, but what of these strangers?

"It will be alright," they said, half to themself and half to their companion. With any luck, it would be a brief introduction before they could move along once more.

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@Katja if you want given the context this thread is about LOL jump in whenever since she'd hear the call too. no worries if no spoons runar will talk to the rest of the skald after the interaction if he's alone. All other tags are just mentions

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Runar had always been a man early to bed and early to rise, and so as the day came to an end, the mountain king had been happy to make his way to Mosswell Cavern. The sun caressed the horizon, what bits of light fading with the welcome of early stars above. Briefly, he wondered if @Twyla's Star Mother was awaking with them or if she had simply been there the whole time. Her place with the gods was still setting in his mind, but he had no reason to doubt her existence. There were many gods with many purposes; what's one more?

Unfortunately, his retreat for a late-night snack in bed would need to be rescheduled at the sound of a call on the wind. Seemingly important given the hour and tone, but not one that Runar recognized. As it went, the High King's duties were never truly done. There was rest and peace, but requirements of him all the same. Mother would be disappointed in him if he kept a guest waiting, so the mountain man wasted no time, turning on large paws to begin his trek down the mountain's respite.

A dark man awaited at the borders, a silver companion at his side. The idea was still new to Runar, but @Shale and Dunstan's unusual relationship had proved to be possible, even with the degree of language barrier. Growing a smile, Runar puffed his chest before speaking, “Taveler! Late greetings to you and your— companion?” He'd question with a quirked brow and tilt of his head. There was no malice behind the words, only searching to see if his assumption might be correct. “You have called, and Runar has answered. What brings you?”
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lord nagito spoke, and the king experienced some gracious loosening of that tension. of course its surplus found its way to his already-ailing gut, and a shadow of pain trekked across the resolution of his set face.

such upsets had been constant and lifelong. ælfrǣd, having learned to deal with them, still felt their existence to be a spurious blight against a royal body. kings did not have stomachaches. that sense itself was a reduction of the great ulcerative pain, but he must never dwell upon it or allow any discomfort to stop his holy work.

the one above had ordained this journey and had placed the stumbling-block of a sick belly also. ælfrǣd could do no less than forge ahead each day.

he and the lord were greeted by a pleasantly giant man, a strapping young lad who excelled over himself in height and muscle. curious goldbar eyes watched for a moment, and the greeting's illeistic nature piqued his own interest.

"i am king ælfrǣd of winchester. this is lord nagito. the pleasure is mine, sir runar. i have come in the interest of introducing myself as a friend and ally."

he wished to know the name of this land as well as the realm; to ask either after declaring himself a king would only make him seem foolish.

winchester. yes. each time he thought it, the sound fit.

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Nagito could not help but cut eyes every so often to their companion, a second nature to study and observe demanding they be in a constant state of watchfulness. It was simply several lifetimes worth of self-preservation and manipulation rearing their ugly heads, but these things had served Nagito well over the centuries. Nonetheless, it was hard to miss the flicker of something across Ælfrǣd's face - something the fox would ask about later, should they have the chance.

It did not take long for the King's call to be answered, and the one answering was a giant, towering like the mountain above. The kitsune could not help the small tremor of tension in their shoulders at the sheer size of the wolf, though they pointedly did not move from where they sat. It would not do to show the instinctual fear that demanded they shy back from a much larger predator. He spoke affably, however, and it became abundantly clear that this Runar was no threat. Nagito glanced between the two okami as they spoke.

Winchester. The name invoked images of cobblestone streets and horse-drawn wagons, of women in puffy dresses and men in suits. It was delightful to imagine - almost magical, transporting them back in time to the Victorian era. Was that where Ælfrǣd was from? Had he always been a wolf? Nagito suddenly wished to know more.

Instead, they smiled and inclined their head in a respectful manner, and they remained quiet.  

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A call rose, and Katja's head lifted as if drawn up by a string tied to a balloon. Ears twisted, focusing, listening. There was an odd but light tone of entitlement, curiosity filtering through her enough that she turned to head towards its source. It was not only her curiosity that drew her but her sense of Duty as well, to protect this land and those within it, to support the High King and the legacy that their parents had left for them.

Like her mother, Katja was a conscientious and dedicated creature, her life and blood sworn to her brother and his title; the likelihood that he would answer the call as well was unquestionable. Proving her case was Runar's great form appearing in the distance, and in front of him, two smaller forms — one not even half of Runar's height.

Sidling up to him, seafoam eyes focused on the two that had requested an audience, observations and calculations jotted quickly in her mind. Her arrival was well timed, the self-made introduction presented as she stood now beside her littermate.

“King Ælfrǣd. Lord Nagito.” She repeated their names and titles, a way of committing them to memory. “You find yourself upon the borders of Vanderfell Woods, and stand before High King Runar Boesch.” Her brother was humble in some ways and had not spoken his title. “I am Katja, Thane of the Woods.” Always proper and straight laced was the High King's militial advisor.
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There was no helping Katja's formalities. It was something she had inherited from their mother, even when he chose to greet strangers as equals rather than a king. Runar would not shirk the title, of course, but he was not the ruler of all. He would not expect others to bow their heads to a man they only just met, but they would to one they respect. The mountain king would raise his head an inch, his gaze wandering to his sister as she finished their introductions.

“A King and a Lord...those are conflicting, no?” Runar turned his head a degree to the side airing his confusion. Was one held above the other, or did they stake separate claims? A fox lord though, that was certainly something new. A hum rose from his throat as the young king weighed his company's words, “Runar likes friends, but he knows nothing of one Winchester. Where is claim? What kind of people does it hold?” More importantly, what kind of king was this Ælfrǣd?
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toward the end of introductions came a young woman sharing hues with the high king, as it came to be runar's title. ælfrǣd dipped his own crown in subtle, second acknowledgement of the nobility he knew both now to carry. "i welcome you, thane katja. and to your question, high king, he is not only a lord. noble nagito has proven himself to be an apt advisor," and now he looked fondly upon the vulpine who had first called him majesty; "and more than that, indeed, a welcome friend."

to his will; "winchester is young," came soft admission. "the flowing hills west of here is where we have placed our claim." had he hands, they might have spread akimbo in almost supplication. as it was, such sentiment filled only his eyes. "i was ordained to come here, by the one above. i believe that the unity of this region can be served by my calling as king."

as the sole king.

"i see already that your home is beautiful, a fitting throne for a high king." and the beginnings of a trade began to grow in his mind, though remained for now unsaid.

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For the fox, this talk was tedious and meant very little. Title after title were listed, weight to the words as if they were important in their own ways. None of them did, in the grand scheme of things. In ten years' time, everyone standing here would be naught but bones, if they had not been consumed by something larger than themselves. It made the words attached to their names feel even less important to the kitsune, who had lived more years than any king or noble could hope for. What was a High King in the face of eternity? 

Dust. Dirt. Blood. Bones. 

Nothing. 

The other wolf was larger, as well. The only name Nagito decided held any weight whatsoever was Vanderfell Woods. It would do them well to learn about the location they were now neighbors to, after all. 

They could not, however, prevent the small smile that crept, unplanned, to their maw as Ælfrǣd named them not only Lord, but advisor, and friend. Perhaps they could, in time, be each of those things. After all, each time it was said, they resented the title of friend less and less. 

Still, they did not speak, instead observing each okami in turn, the picture of poise and civility. An actor on a stage they'd been thrust into. 

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Her head tilted slightly as Runar spoke, the smallest of smiles appearing then vanishing again as her brother entirely ignored his own title. He made a good king for someone their age and would only improve over the years. Of this, Katja had no doubt.

She did, however, have doubts about these two, if only because she held doubts about all others until they proved themselves to her. The only wolves given leeway were those of the Woods, and even then, such leeway was sparing. None of this would stop Katja from listening, however, ears and eyes focused on King Ælfrǣd as he answered questions both asked and unasked.

The one above. Curious. What did that even mean? The Iceling did not ask after such information, instead remaining silent until she felt it prudent to speak again.
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Runar let their guest speak as he mapped out his words according to the lands he had seen. He must mean the foothills, for no other territory nearby rolled in waves to match his description. Winchester then was young indeed, for Runar had been there not even a month prior with no signs of boundaries or settlement. He gave a stiff nod, “Runar thinks he knows place.” That was not what interested him; it was the fox at his side. Companions were a growing awareness for the young king, but an advisor? The fox spoke their language? Or perhaps it was Ælfrǣd that spoke fox.

That he had not seen.

What followed, subtle in Ælfrǣd's true intentions, confused the High King further. “Perhaps Runar does not understand. Land is peaceful. Only friends in claims short trip away. No plight has burdened any since, well, long before Runar was born. New king, Runar can respect, but the gods do not play in business of mortals. They do not see like we do. If one speaks to you...Runar fears it may be snake. You should take great care, King Ælfrǣd.” Worry pulled his brows as he spoke, though he was quick to release his growing tension at the words of Ælfrǣd's compliment.

Runar craned his neck to peer back at the covered peaks, “Thank you. Only home Runar has known, but she is great beauty. Throne it may be, but its people are family. Vanderfell was made on the backs of many, not Runar's alone.” Then an eye of gold rolled back, watching his fellow king as he returned to a question that had been glossed over, “What kind of people does Winchester, King Ælfrǣd, hope to grow?”
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"i would like to draw more of those skilled, lord king," said winchester's ruler aspirant. "tradesmen. entertainers. nobles. i would like to have a network of trade between the dancing lands and all its allies. and i would like to be a haven, for all those of all faiths to join." beneath his own intentions, of course.

 ælfrǣd regarded the two woodland royals. "the land is tame for now. i believe you. i have not long been here. but what i have learned elsewhere is that prosperity is frequent followed by calamity." he spoke with a determination bestowed by the one above, by his beliefs in such rightness. gods. so this man was a pagan to boot.

any illusory thoughts he had of a bond between them ground to a difficult halt. "i think a secondary intention of winchester will be an army." threatening that, or it could be taken as such.

he was still.

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