New Beginnings

The world is an unforgiving place. Day after day, an immense amount of effort is demanded just to survive. Seasons change. The air grows humid or frigid — whichever mother nature decides. Is it hard? Yes. But as for impossible... never. At least, not for those who know how to survive. 

Through recent days it seemed there are few of those; survivors. Morte happens to be one of those few. Granted, he's been doing it for most of his life. Living alone... hunting alone... sleeping alone. It was second nature. Sure there are times he often wondered what it would be like to have a friend or a family. But is it likely? Probably not.

The lands upon which he walked were bare. No tracks. No prey to be seen or smelt for miles. He began to think towards the reason by what led him here, but no ideas came to mind. Sometimes when you're alone, the world doesn't seem as small. Paws carry the body aimlessly, with no set location of where to go or whom to see. You're free to go wherever you like — to see what scenery mother nature has to offer. It seems nice. Sometimes it is.
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The days were silent ; though trouble with the neighbors they barely had come forth, except the occasional.. Tense interaction, but yet any war to come through, or an official battle set. Though those of the Dragonford needed to be careful, they moderated their beach and seas, and crossed to the Behemoth's Brim often. Into the waters was a rather difficult task, but many would find themselves onto the beaches. Marked, yet often ignored, or some simply lost the care within the world.. Then the occasional drifter. Those who simply 'appeared', or but passerby. 

"Stranger," the woman called out, a trot of her long legs to the shadow wolf who walked along her beaches, "you are on Dragonford land."

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+2 Formation Points

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A call to him diverted his attention. A new voice rang through his ear. So there were inhabitants of this land after all. 

Hues narrowed out of both a cautious and curious manner, the man's crown swiveled in the direction of which the voice came. Dragonford? The name had never been heard by him before, but then, there were many new packs that were forming these days. Absinthe was intrigued. Perhaps this new run in would turn more of a blessing than a curse.

Stepping closer to the owner of the voice, the shadow colored wolf took a heavy stride forward, lifting his chin in a display of confidence. Confidence. That's all it was. In such an instance, he had no interest in taking a dominant stance. Not unless his company did so in an aggressive way.

“Dragonford?” The dark man eventually spoke. The words were clear and hollow, booming across the distance that separated the two bodies. “Can't say the name has ever crossed my ear. And who are you to the Dragonford Land?” While he had a faint guess, he would place no assumptions forth and cause an upset. A fight was not desired. Though, should the option be the last, he would do so.

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+1 Formation Points

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"It is not surprising, we are but a new claim." Vendrussel was friendlier when it came to wolves who held no hostility. She definitely didn't enjoy the Northfall wolves who attempt to exert an intimidation to get them to move, despite such an unstable turmoil within their group. Some to be friendly and some were not? Surely a pack that would go down in flames. She didn't desire the same through, though secretive to where they were at times, and holds closely to the trust - she didn't desire to simply throw snarls to where they are unneeded.

A warrior at heart, but not a fool. 

"I am the Alpha, Vendrussel," she so introduced herself, a head held high with but a faint smile, "who might you be?"

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+1 Formation Points

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The mention of a new claim was no shock. Seeing as few accompanied the land, they were definitely a claim made of few bodies.

“I am known as Absinthe. A pleasure, Vendrussel.” A curt dip of his head accompanied these words. He was a charmer by no means, but respectful of a high placed wolf nonetheless, even if the pack was not his own.

For a moment, he was silent. A steady gaze hovered over the woman. By now he could tell that she wanted a peaceful interaction just as much as he, so caution was limited, but still kept. He was more curious to read her personality.. if that was even possible.

“You say you are new claim?” The man finally continued. “How new?”

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+1 Formation Points

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She dipped her head back at him lightly as a general form of respect. She enjoyed that he wasn't causing any trouble or thrown arrogance around as others had done. Perhaps this sole interaction caused her to be a bit more friendly, finally enjoying someone near the land that wasn't of a chaotic nature. Though there was some who just.. 'Appeared,' she counted them as a spectrum of but a daydream, for a normal time, wolves simply don't 'appear' out of thin air.

"Some time, we are adjusting." Vendrussel didn't want to give an accurate estimation, though it has been around a month of so. The wolves of Dragonford tended to be inland, and though preferred that the numbers remained a 'mystery' even if it wasn't true. She suspected some would guess though by seeing how not many would guard the beach, and the Alphess herself, came forth to such claim. 

To appear weak, as something the northern dragon was trying to avoid.

"Where are you from, stranger?"

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The hesitation to share specifics of her people and their homeland was duly noted. It was understood and respected, however. Not being one to pry, he let it ago, rather press further.

“Adjusting takes time and many bodies to make sure others around you know this is your land. In the mountains of the Tundra, there are few who group, hence we as individuals must make our claims and guard them well. Those who are weaker and cannot defend are often chased away. Besides, few of the weak can bear the frigid temperatures anyhow. That's where I'm from. The "cold lands" as my brother used to call them.”

The interaction had grown into more than just a face-to-face lineup. A conversation. There was a portion of him that desired for the time to lengthen and so, he continued to speak.

“And what of you? Have you always called these lands home?”
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"Ah, a northern wolf," she noted with a nod, "I am not unfamiliar with them." Her clan though, wer not completely depth into the tundra, could have said to be on the border. They have dwelved their hunts to the further cold north, but normally kept to the middle of so. She knew there was wolves who took to them and vaguely knew of their language, but wasn't extremely close to them. But a mutual understanding of the presence of each other, and the occasional trade that comes.

His words sounded a bit like a lecture, and she couldn't deny it irked her despite such a truth coming forward. Though Vendrussel guarded to the best of her abilities, while straying those wolves of the mountain away. She especially brought up moreso now that troubles were coming forth.. Peace was desired but seemingly growing difficult.

The ocean-hued wolf shook her head, "I had awoken in a land distances away from here.. A calling came to me, and thus a claim here."

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“This calling of yours was right, then. Out of the territories I've seen, it's something to look at rather than turn away from. As were the mountains... a time ago, that is.” He finished his sentence dismissively, silently pleading with himself to speak no further of his past.

The subject needed to change.

“How does Dragonford fare with newcomers? Is there sort of a... a selection process in who the pack takes in?” His words broke with a chuff. Pack ways were a new idea and he wasn't sure how to approach the question. “Do you simply let anyone join?” 

There. He'd worded that a bit better. Still rough around the edges.

The shadowed man's expression remained cold and blank, but a portion of him on the inside was embarrassed for knowing so little. Looking to the she-wolf, he awaited both her response and judgement, for there was surely some to come.

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+1 Formation Points

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She held onto a smile as the compliment to her territory. Even she were to agree, it was an intimidating scenery to look at. Not many would though claim to such a lands, for if they knew not the right path, the luxurious island would remain hidden. Though with such intimidation coming forward it helped stray away particular loners, but not those who claim nearby. She often had to remind herself but to mellow down, for the strife would hopefully not remain permanent.

She rose a rather surprise brow to such a question, before her smile broadened devilishly, "We have ways of selection," her voice hummed slightly, as she turned around from the dark man named Absinthe, "if you are interested, follow me to the waters."

Light paws slowly walked to the beach shore, though it did not stop as her body continued to the threshold of the waves. Vendrussel looked back, expecting him to follow directly into. He must pray he knew how to swim.

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leading to a different part of Leviathan's Sepulcher!

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+1 Formation Points

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Flicking an ear, the man blinked towards the new expression that folded over the woman. 

Of course he was interested, as per the reason behind his inquiry. Granted, something about what she said next un-eased him, but curiosity waved over, prodding him to follow.

And that he did. Follow. He knew not where the woman would step, but he was eager to find out. With heavy strides, the dark man was in tow, gaze peering outwards for the water.
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Her body submerged into the sea-salt water. She could smell the salt to her nose, the slight stinging to her eyes as the waves splashed on, but gradually became at ease at the feel. Her head remained a float, a doggy paddle to the way of the island, purposely avoiding the clear pathway that went into the Dragonford isle.. She looked back to see that he was on the beach, and soon was to follow. She wouldn't have gone further if didn't see him slowly too, follow along to the seas.

The waves rocked back and forth, though more gentle then that of stormy days. The serpentine land was not the most friendly of places, as she could feel her leg graze against one of the many spiked rocks that laid below. Her body nearly slammed into one of the taller spires, but she swayed away and around toward it. At one point it would be obvious for where her route was to be, as further into the watery grave was but a small island.. With an unusual top to it.

When she gained closer to the island, Vendrussel pushed herself up, and looked back to see if the man followed, or drowned into the depths.

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minor assumptions, maybe slight pp, hmu if not ok!

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They lived across the waters? Now he'd seen it all.

Along the bank, he watched as the woman submerged herself into the salted body. Was she insane? Who chose to make a claim such as this? Granted, it did provide a good defense, so he'd give her that much credit. But, was it worth it to follow? The only true way to answer that question was to follow. Something about it felt right, so his instinct he would trust.

Inhaling deeply, the man stepped into the water, walking forward until he could no longer reach solid ground. The water was cold, nipping at every limb; every muscle and fur that touched it. With the advantage of height, it wasn't too hard to keep his head afloat, aside the few battering waves that dared to drag him beneath the depths. He refused and held his own.

Salt stung his eyes, requiring more effort to keep a firm sight over the woman. The island. That was her goal, no doubt.

By now his limbs were tired. Though built for strength and stamina, fighting against strong sea water was not something he did every day. Perhaps from now on he would make it a habit. That is, if he stuck around. The woman had already pulled her way up over the bank. It took him a little longer to reach it, for she was experienced and he was not.

Once he could feel some form of land between his claws, the man hauled himself up. With such a thick coat, he looked like an absolute disaster. Some of it clung to his skeleton, while the rest hung randomly, dripping with water. Heaving a breath, he shook his structure furiously. There. Some of the water was gone now. Lifting his crown, he set his attention back over the she-wolf, waiting to see where they were headed next.
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She smirked back seeing as the man followed. Only those who trusted the serpentines depths would be allowed within the Dragonford, for they would not allow those without pure courage to enter so. She could seem move rather clumsily and hummed slightly, for though his large in size ; he was not an entire fool within the waves. Though she couldn't say he swam elegantly like those of the seal. At least now, as he pushed himself onto the rocks itself, she grunted toward him and ushered her snout to the top of the rock.

High as the land itself, her ocean eyes peered down to the blank waters below. Darkened by the void beneath. She looked back at Absinthe, "Jump," Vendrussel said, pointing her paw downwards. Though they simply just swam moments ago.. Diving from a height was another adventure altogether. Yet, such an initiation came forth to those who claim to the sepulcher. For those who dove the depths, were one of the dragons.

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A deadpan expression befell the man. Sights set on the woman, he was momentarily speechless. After beckoning him upon a lengthy swim across the salty sea, she now instructed him to dive into what would be considered by most as a death trap. What a way of introduction. Those of the Dragonford must have held quite the insignia of honor — perhaps even as well one of a death sentence.

He'd made it this far. Why turn back now? Not a fool... not a coward... He was neither of these things and intended to prove himself as such.

With one final glance cast over Vendrussel, he stepped forward to the rock's edge. A small gaze set over the void below. Dark water was there, waving endlessly over the island's edge. One of two things would happen here: Either he would dive into the fate of death, or survive and become anew yet... One of the Dragons.

One last heaving breath and he'd done it. Coal black fur was like a blur afront the woman he had now entrusted his life to. The man dove out over the edge, hind limbs just barely scraping against the stone as they departed, pushing him out further. His heavy weight carried him quickly, frontal limbs being the first to touch the water. 

With an audible splash, Absinthe was quickly swallowed by the sea. For many moments he did not rise, but allowed the salt to infuse within each fur, thickening them. The void desired to carry him further under and claim a once lost soul. No. He would not allow it. A bubble met the surface; the strain of his breath, before the man's head came to bob. Water flowed from his nostrils, while harsh amounts of salt coated his throat. This would be a poor time to swallow, so he didn't. He wouldn't until the taste was gone.

Now afloat, his focus was rendered and his attention fluttered upwards, silvery eyes darting to the woman who stood many miles above, watching. Too busy attending to the importance of not drowning, it was unclear what he should have done next. His gaze said it all. It was a silent plead of instruction.

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+1 Formation Points

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He was one of the few first who had taken the dive, voluntary. She couldn't deny that Vendrussel had rather, forced the dive for some in a sly twist of their joining. From her own homeland the post important aspect was that of the dive ; to children and to adults, it was the pinnacle of not only bravery, but the trust of throwing one's own life, for the ford. She peered down with a pleased expression, one of a pride while watching his figure dip into the water and the splash rippling so. From the corner of her blue gaze could she see the fish fester away, a school frightened by his large form.

"Welcome to the Dragonford," then she hummed with a slight thought, "shadow dragon," her tail wagged slightly with paws dangling over the edge, the mischievous smile hanging over as she congratulated the man.

"You are welcome to the main land." As she gazed upon him, her snout turned toward the inner sanctions of the water. The land was surrounded of the spiked peaks, and because of so.. The isle, was often hidden away from the rest. Perhaps now from the waters he swims at he could see the lush of the island, large enough to host a pack of them so, a grand number.. Yet, not enough for the fauna that barely touches. A lovely island, she so thought.

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+1 Formation Points

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Even from the distance, the approval shone upon the woman evidently. A wagging tail... A friendly expression. Enough to tell him he'd performed properly. The plunge he'd taken had indeed granted him his fresh start — one he wouldn't be so naive as to replace.

Shadow dragon. Had a nice ring to it, as it did suite him well. Maybe it would stick.

With the direction of her snout, he was finally relieved of the paddle he so furiously fought to maintain. Working through heavy strides, the man swam towards the bank marking the inner isle. Once close enough, soft sand was newly clung between his pads. Finally. Land. Soaked once more, the shadow coat was heavy. It was not easy to relieve himself of the weight, but with a few furious shakes, it was enough to presume comfortable.

Upon the beach of the isle, he fell over his haunches. Absinthe stared outward expectantly, assuming the arrival of his new Alpha would be shortly upon him.
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fade?

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She held her on dive when his back was turned, though so used to it she went into the waters with ease. Her head emerged from the waters and followed to the island ; lush in flora as it was, a beach on a few sides and rocky edges on the other. Enough for the Dragonford that claimed ; for their wolves at the time being her small. Vendrussel shook her wet pelt of the sea salt, and looked toward the darkened man, "No one else is allowed onto this island unless they went through the dive," she warned, "any who do, are to be chased out."

Though such a serious tone that came be, she smiled at him attempted to brush against him in a nudge, "the isle awaits us."

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Sounds good to me. This will be my final post, then.

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A splash sounded. A second apart from his own just moments ago. It appeared as if the woman joined him. He wasn't alone fighting the water, regardless of the fact she was better at it than he.

Upon land, she spoke and he listened. Intently so. A thought came to him, offering a small chuckle.

“I doubt there are many that would have interest in joining the waves to carry them here.”

A false balance, he realized. She was serious, while he was making comments to satisfy his own humor. Once this was realized, his expression fell blank; deadpan as it had been before.

“This will be kept in mind.” He promised, nodding to the woman. This was his home now and he would take every measure to ensure it was kept safe.

The brush of her snout, along with that smile — it was enough to insist he'd made a good decision. She had welcomed him easily and he would not take it for granted.
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