He wasn't so sure he trusted these new wolves, but he trusted Hannibal. Having searched what felt like the globe for his brother after famine tore apart their homeland, he'd finally trailed his scent to this place, lingering in the nearby woods. Having found him at the borders, he was happy to join the pack he came to trust, but Carthage couldn't help it - these weren't Klein's. But if Hannibal trusted him, he guessed he would at least try.

Already he was venturing out of the borders to explore, which was no different that if they were back in their homeland. He couldn't stay still for long, always on the look for something to do or someone to hassle. He found himself at a large river after walking a short distance from the forest and paused, looking down at his reflection in the water. Hannibal was right, he was getting thin. It wouldn't take long to put on the weight being in a pack, but still, he needed to pack on some extra pounds. He debated fishing, but the winter weather certainly made the water colder than it appeared, plus there weren't any fish swimming around directly under him. Looking back up from the water, he stepped back and began walking down its edge, wondering how far the river reached.

- - -

ooc; for Korinna - set after he joins erovrare

Truthfully, Korinna didn't really trust the wolves in Erovrare yet either, but then again.. she didn't trust most wolves to begin with. Tyranis had earned her respect - and her willingness to join him and see what sort of plans he had - but saying she trusted him would be a stretch. Letting her guard down enough to really trust anyone wasn't something that Korinna did often, and she wasn't about to start. Deciding she ought to get to know the lands outside of Erovrare's as well, she decided to venture to the nearby river. Getting her bearings on her surroundings and scoping out the borders for unfamiliar scents was always a worthwhile endeavor, as far as she was concerned. The scarred woman kept her head low as she walked, sniffing curiously at the riverbed as she went. Her attention was focused almost completely on the winding river, but the sight of a black and white coated figure in the distance caught her eye. Though unfamiliar to her, as she drew closer she recognized Erovrare's scent mingled with his own, and she could only presume he was someone new. Feeling a bitter winter wind ruffle her coat, she shivered before pressing on, keeping her eyes trained on the figure in the distance. Only when she drew closer would she speak up, her voice bearing its usual cocky, slightly mischievous drawl. "Need a push in? I don't mind offering some assistance." She was well aware he wasn't thinking about swimming - only a fool would swim in a river like this in the midst of winter - but that wouldn't stop her jesting regardless.

Although he favored his alone time, there was something to be said about meeting new wolves. It could go either way - spending time together alone, or fighting to get your alone time back. Today, he hoped for the latter. Of course, he didn't mind spending his time to himself, getting familiar with the surroundings of Erovrare and he did need to meet the majority of the pack. While he couldn't trust the lot of them, Hannibal seemed to and had been around them long enough to assume they could at least be trusted enough to live there. He didn't understand how Hannibal could live so far away from their family, from the Empire, but everyone had scattered since the famine... Still, did he even try looking for any of them, even for him?

He'd spent his time tracking Hannibal and following him, albeit slowly, to this new place, but did he even care? Carthage narrowed his eyes in thought as the dark woman approached. He'd been aware of her, but seemingly temporarily forgot until she spoke. Assuming she'd walk on by, he was pleasantly surprised by this, especially since it took him from the ill thoughts he was having about his brother.

He could smell the lingering scent of Erovrare on her pelt and assumed he could at least trust her not to push him in as she suggested, but again, he couldn't trust anybody... especially an alluring female. Besides, her scars proved at least one thing - she had a hard life or she could stand up for herself when necessary. Regardless, she wasn't weak, he knew that much. He let his icy gaze travel over her body, taking in the scars present elsewhere than her face and how much they stood out against her dark pelt. He let them linger longer than he probably should before looking back to her face, settling with a little smirk. "I dare you to try."


"Speech!"
TABLE & CODE © RASTA 2019

Despite her independent spirit, Kori had little interest in seeking out alone time - she was generally on her own by default, so she was eager to seek out company much of the time. Today was no exception, and even if she'd been interested in approaching this stranger before, his scent helped solidify her plans. Her characteristic cocky grin tugged at her lips as she drew closer, watching as he twisted to face her, and she raised her brows in quiet appreciation. She looked him over as he spoke, her gaze neither skeptical nor impressed, but wavering somewhere between the two.   He returned the assessment, watching the way his gaze lingered on her face - presumably not because he was simply awed by her beauty. That thought made her own expression shift, mirroring his smirk. "I think Tyranis might have my hide if he heard I tried to drown a newcomer," she drawled simply, sounding rather amused at the thought. "At least... if he found out, that is." The jest was alight in her eyes as well as her voice, though she shook her head after a moment. "Name's Kori," she explained after a second, loping forward to stand near him at the edge of the river, keeping a safe distance so that he wouldn't have to actually fear the possibility of being pushed in.

The woman that approached was heavily scarred on her face, a trait that Carthage found admirable. She’d made it through such trial with a memorable scar, but perhaps she didn’t feel the same as he. Carthage admired his scars, proof of victory or skill in his life. He supposed others could feel differently than he, but he didn’t understand why. Scars were evidence of trials one has triumphed. She didn‘t seem too shy about them though, which made him feel a little easier on the subject.  Mentioning Tyranis brought and ill taste to his mouth and he hadn’t even said it. He doubted he‘d care should she drown the newest Klein, but he knew Hannibal would have something to say about it, or at least he hoped he would. “Something tells me he’d be relieved, actually.” He laughed a little, playing it off as a joke but leaving some truth in there. He’d let her decide if she wanted to poke and prod for more information as he wasn’t going to readily offer it to her. He might not be the most secret one out there, but he won‘t unload everything about him either.  Finally introducing herself, Carthage looked at her from the water he’d been gazing at while they spoke. “Carthage, though my family calls me Carnage.” He wondered if she’d question this, why he had such a.. morbid name. Perhaps it was self explanatory, but he’d let her decide. His eyes found her facial scar again, and he was itching to know how they had been earned.  “Forgive me for asking, but how did you get your scars?” He hoped to sound positive as if he were just looking for a good story. Perhaps he was, but in fact he was actually just nosey. It probably wasn’t her business and he wouldn’t hold it against her should she decided to not want to tell him. It‘d always be in the back of his mind bothering him, but he could live with it if she was uncomfortable sharing.  ""

The way the newcomer replied to her comment brought a smile to her face, and elicited a low chuckle. The sound was far from feminine, instead hearty and strong. She wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but she wasn't too shy to ask. "Would he?" She quipped conversationally, raising an amused brow. She was uncertain exactly where she stood in Tyranis's eyes but she'd been loyal enough she doubted he'd find and relief in her drowning, but apparently this male felt otherwise.  "Is he not fond of you?" Her gaze drifted over his form, noting the strength evident behind his coat in the form of tightly coiled muscles. He was handsome in his own right, and she knew Tyranis had an eye for pretty things, so she wondered why he wasn't so fond of Carthage. "Carnage," she repeated the name his family used, tasting it on her tongue.  "Which name do you prefer?" She wondered if he had a preference at all, given he'd offered both names readily enough.  She had more questions she wanted to ask him, about how he'd come to live in Erovrare and what motivated him to stay here, but conversation quickly shifted back to her, and her scars. The smirk she wore now was a playful one, trying to decide what approach she wanted to use. To lie and fabricate a grand story, as she so often did, or tell the truth? She decided on the latter.  "Depends which ones you're looking at," she admitted readily, chuckling lowly again.  "Most of the ones on my face were earned when I was caught screwing my alpha's mate.. A beauty, she was. Hard to keep my paws off her," she feigned a wistful sigh. Her banishment hadn't been a surprise to her - she'd initiated the affair as an act of defiance as much as a simple act of carnal lust. Kori laughed again at the thought.  "I certainly held my own against him. Shoulda seen how he turned out." The tone of her voice made it hard to tell whether she was embellishing or not, or even simply telling tales, but she was smiling nonetheless. "The rest... aren't quite as memorable. Lots of fights with friends and strangers. One from a particularly vicious fox," she lifted her scarred forelimb up lightly, gesturing to it with her nose. Kori was far from shy and had no issue telling tales to strangers, though this male was a packmate.  "What about you? What's your story, handsome?" Maybe, if she was lucky, he'd keep her entertained for awhile.

The woman responded and Carthage laughed, wondering how Tyranis truly felt about him. Another Klein in his territory should make anyone uncomfortable, especially when more were likely on the way. He continued to doubt the man really liked him, but he also hadn't been around long. He needed to prove his worth if anything, especially since Hannibal didn't seem too reliable at the moment. The woman didn't seem to sway him either way, unlike the last woman he met at the shrine. She was different. "I hardly notice one over the other, it's truly yours to pick." Either name sounded too much like the other to really tell the difference anyway, but he could hardly pick up on it when he was called one or the other. He had no preference to what she decided, as long as she didn't call him Carrie. That name made his skin crawl for sounding too feminine. It was a good joke at times, but for the most part it ground his gears. She moved on to the inquiry about her scars and told him the story of the most admirable on her face and then how the others were hardly as exciting. Carthage chuckled, understanding how those probably weren't even fun compared to the one. She asked about him, but he hardly knew what to say. It wasn't like he didn't lead a very exciting life, but there wasn't much to say.  "I come from a rather large family unit far from here and we made such a name for ourselves out here, but famine overtook our home and chased us out. I followed Hannibal's trail out here, but the rest haven't seemed to find us yet." He shrugged, unsure of what really to say about the family without letting too much information out to someone he couldn't readily trust. He hoped it'd do for now, until he could speak more in detail with Hannibal about their purpose here and what he'd told everyone. They didn't need to have different stories, especially since he wasn't sure about Hannibal's motives yet. ""