Acceptance thread  Season of Change
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Kritaxius He/Him
Almost Sparkles
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#1
(This post was last modified: September 11, 2018, 11:41:56 AM by Kritaxius.)

He had descended from the mountain in the first time since ages, forced to move from the growing absence of carrion and the decimating number of bugs in the cave he had called home. The other loners which had lived nearby had moved, and this was causing a particular problem for Kritaxius. He could no longer scavenge from their hunts, and despite his best wishes, he knew he would not survive forever on a diet of bugs alone.

He traveled by the cover of the night. He had little choice in the matter, his eyes did not do well in the presence of bright light. The ghostly wolf could manage a cloudy day, but preferred the darkness of a moonless night much like this one. The mountain was far behind him now, and Kritaxius had no plan as to where he was going or where he would stop. It didn't matter much to him, wherever he landed life would be the same as it was before; lingering, surviving, existing though barely sometimes, without ever seeking the company of another. At least, that's what he imagined it would be. After all, it was all he'd ever known. No, that wasn't completely true. Some nights, the white wolf could close his eyes and remember a time long since past when he had lived with his family. He remembered the smell of his mother most of all, delicate and subtle like the smell of a dry wildflower.

A heavy fog descended with the rain and slowed his progress, but he didn't mind. He had all the time in the world, or he didn't, either way it didn't make much of a difference to him. The wind carried his scent downwards such that he couldn't catch the scent of what lay ahead. But that also did not phase him... whatever creature he stumbled upon was usually sent away by his sickly appearance and did not cause him harm. He sported scars along his back and legs, as well as a few on his jaw, but most had been self inflicted by accident or by excoriation.

When Kritaxius was met with a deep crevasse of still water, he was given no other choice than to try to go around it. This strange river, which wasn't a river at all, seemed to go on forever. Looking at the sky, he figured he still had a hour or two to find his way across, or trek back and find a hiding spot to sleep the day away. He was about to turn back and head towards the mountain again when he spotted something further up the edge of the obstacle... it was... a bridge? Walking closer, the wolf lowered his head to the ground and picked up the scent of other wolves. Not just one or two.... a pack? Kritaxius shook his head, knowing now that he couldn't cross safely if the territory was claimed by others. It was strange how wolves suddenly decided a land belonged to them. Land wasn't something you could own in his mind... had it not been free before whatever creature that 'owned' it had appeared?

Slowly, Kritaxius took a few steps back then turned around to head back the other way... the safer way. But after a few steps, he stopped. Eyes narrowed as he looked back to the land across the bridge. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he wondered what it would be like to live among others of his kind. Why think of it now, when the thought had never crossed his mind before? He had no answer to the question. He knew however, that he was tired... finally tired of always living the same way, for nothing and for no one. What would it feel like, to have a purpose? He stood in the rain, looking back towards the mysterious bridge as though it beckoned him, as though it begged for change.

It begged for his end, or his rebirth; he could not tell which.
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Connor he/him
Page of Alteron
Alteron
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#2

There was a ghost at their borders. 

Connor's downtime had been spent near the bridge, making sure that their scent markers and claw marks were clear to anyone heading into Alteron's territory. The young wolf's dappled coat made it easy to blend in with the undergrowth of the jungle and to be honest...he was not yet sure he trusted the Pages' he had met to keep their borders well staffed. Franziska was...an interesting individual but seemed to give into vices quickly. Orcist had only appeared in one of his patrols so far and the larger wolf was somewhat intimidating even knowing he was Connor's higher up. Connor couldn't imagine how setting new recruits on the defensive straight away was at all a fair way to determine how useful a member could be.

Watching the white wolf hesitate on the bridge gave Connor a better look at it's overall condition. Undernourished at best, with thinning fur and a matted mane. At the moment it would make a poor new recruit. It would probably not even survive Falco's tests if the huge wolf decided to show his face.

But...taking in strays was something Connor couldn't help himself with. And if the ghost could be rehabilitated with good food and a place to rest something of it's size may be a strong contester for a more physical rank. The creature didn't have the rotten smell that came with mange, so unless Connor was mistaken it was probably a diet problem that caused his poor coat condition. And diets could be fixed.

Slowly, but making sure to scuffle the leaves at his paws so as not to sneak up on the ghost Connor made his way closer to the bridge, giving up any pretense of subterfuge. The rain may have softened the sound a little but he hoped it was still enough to keep either of them from being shocked at the other's appearance.

"Hello there!" Connor called from the end of the bridge, the rain dampened coat and water logged ears making him seem so much less intimidating. "My name is Connor, I'm a Page sent by Alteron. May I inquire as to what your business is here tonight? It seems a rough night to be travelling at all."

Inclining his head to the closely packed thicket he had appeared from, Connor didn't hesitate to call out again. "If you would be more interested in talking where it's drier, I can promise no harm will come to you while we speak."
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Kritaxius He/Him
Almost Sparkles
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#3

The wolf from beyond the bridge did nothing to cover the sound of his arrival, and it did much to reassure him of his intent. There was usually more danger to behold in those who came and crept in silence and deceit. He lifted his eyes to the stranger. He was a fine specimen of a wolf; very little of which Kritaxius ever saw roaming the mountains.

The loners he had observed before (and learned to avoid) were fit to hunt, but not usually fit to fight. This one looked ready and able to do both at will. This should have been enough to send him away, but still he stood there in the rain. There was nothing in the other's gaze that spoke of harm, and that was enough for him for now.

"Hello there! My name is Connor, I'm a Page sent by Alteron. May I inquire as to what your business is here tonight? It seems a rough night to be travelling at all." 

Traveling under the cold rain seemed a small inconvenience next to starvation. The cold had long ago settled into his bones and numbed his paws, but there was little to be done for that. Since leaving his birthplace, Kritaxius could not quite remember ever being warm and well... He was either cold, or he was freezing, but perhaps that was also due to the constant hunger.

"Alteron..."

His voice was rough, much like the shriveled shape of him. It had been so long since he had spoken words to anyone, including himself, that he had forgotten the sound of it.

So the name of the pack was Alteron, and this wolf was named Connor. Kritaxius opened his mouth to speak and present himself, but the rain doubled in effort then and he knew the other would not hear his strained voice over the storm, so he chose to say nothing more.

 "If you would be more interested in talking where it's drier, I can promise no harm will come to you while we speak."

A promise from a stranger meant nothing, but Kritaxius still nodded. There seemed to be little choice in the matter. The rain did not seem to want to stop or let up anytime soon, and there was no closer shelter to be had than the trees on the other side of the bridge.

And so he crossed, not knowing what really awaited him on the other side. They made their way into the thicket, and the scraggly wolf shook the water from his fur before settling down. With his wet fur clinging to his frame, it was easy to see how thin his legs were and how his ribs protruded from his sides. His red eyes were fixated on Connor, a sure sign that there was no trust to be had between them yet. If Kritaxius was given a moment to see that no other wolf was going to jump into the thicket to rip his throat open, then he would slowly start to release the tention in his feeble frame. He would sigh, and do his best to hold a conversation with the one that had offered him shelter from the storm. It was the least he could do.

"My name is Kritaxius. I came down from the mountain.", he began. "Where I was... There is no more food." From the looks of him, it was clear there had been little there to begin with.

His ears twitched then, and his gaze turned to the ground at the end of a nearby tree. Without missing a beat, the pale wolf moved over to the tree and began to dig at its base. Reaching into the moist mixture of soil and decomposed leaves, he pulled out a wiggling grub as pale as he. Standing on shaking limbs, he prepared to devour the slimy insect but glancing back at Connor, he wondered if this would be wise.

His stomach made a complaint, yet he did not eat his catch. Hunger was a constant companion that he no longer listened to. If he had, he would have long ago gone mad. Still, it was with great effort that he decided to forfeit the grub to his gracious host.

Dropping the wriggling insect on the ground in front of Connor, Kritaxius sat down and proceeded to stare at him with anticipation.
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