Naiche rested near the base of a willow tree, his head in between his front paws.  The wheat colored wolf’s eyes roamed the night sky, or at least the clouds which covered the sky from his view.  There would be no stars to cast their light on him tonight and there was a scent on the air which hinted rain.  The willow tree’s did an excellent job of casting shadows everywhere, a pleasant breeze drifted through the tree’s, settling the branches and shadows of branches dancing along the landscape.

Naiche glanced towards a small running stream closest to him, where the remains of his meal had come from this afternoon.  There wasn’t much left to speak of from the duck. A bunch of feathers in a pile, a breast bone and a skull that had been cracked into were all the remained.  It had satiated his hunger but certainly he’d enjoy more. Naiche would love to think it had been great hunting skills that had earned him his meal, but in truth it had been one duck stupid enough to not pay enough attention to his surroundings until his chance of fleeing was gone.

After a few more moments of just watching his dead-duck remains naiche stood up, shook out his coat and went to get a drink from one of the many streams.   The young wolf was tired from both traveling and hunting.  It had taken more than one attempt to get a stupid duck.  Apparently some ducks were either smarter or just not as unlucky as the pile of feathers had been.  The soft sound of the night insects and a few distant bird calls seemed to be the concert he would listen to this evening.

Stepping through the shadows, the dark-coated Warlord is another smudge against the night. The glint of silvers from scar-like markings down his face and rump like starlight catching upon stones. Often, his patrols lead him through these tall, willowy trees. More than once he had caught a too-brash predator lounging near the borders of his pack. He found it best to keep his scent fresh even through these rogue lands. The scent of blood would catch his attention, and drive his muzzle into the direction of the autumn wolf. The sound of crunching paws, and lapping of a stream would drive him in the right direction. Stopped beside the stream, a decent few lengths from the stranger, the Warlord would let his eyes drift to the bloody remains of the duck, and back to the man. He was a small wolf, made so compared to Warlord and sons. ‘How’s the hunting?” he asked the stranger, wondering if his voice would come as a surprise, or if the other had yet sensed his presence. "Speech"

Naiche would acknowledge openly he has many flaws but labeled that primarily to his age and limited experience. Still, as a pup he use to feel safe and secure in thusting his elders to take care of his siblings and himself.  He should of asked for more lessons back then.  That being the case one thing he refused to mess up on now was not paying attention to his surroundings.  Being alone and still only basic concepts of fighting would put him in a bad position should danger arise he wasn’t expecting.  No, not danger just like the dumb duck he’d be killed.

It was dark and his head had been facing the water, it had been the sense of smell that had first alerted him to the presence of another wolf coming his way.  Since the wolf wasn’t charging at him he didn’t jump to run or get defensive straight off deciding it was best to appear calm.  Truth was, the moment the scent came to him Naiche’s muscles tensed up.  This would be his first time to run into another wolf since he lost the protection of family.  

Naiche turned his gaze to the wolf as it got closer and spoke.  Oh…stars and moon combined… what was this monster??  Naiche had never seen a wolf anywhere near that size before.  It was…a giant.  Yah, if it wanted to kill him Naiche would be dead, outright.  Hackles started to raise by instinct but with a great deal of willpower he got control of his body, and once he was confident, he could look calmer he was ready to answer, “Not much.  Just a foolish duck.” Well, and the ones that flew off.  “I think the storm coming has most the prey holed up somewhere.” Certainly, larger animals had no where to ‘hole up’, but Naiche refused to try and even get one of their young on his own.  Too well he remembered the dangers of what one mistake could do.

After speaking he recognized something he had foolishly missed earlier.  This wolf smelled the same as an underlying scent that had already been here.  This guy was no stranger to the area so likely he had a pack somewhere nearby.  Unless he was also a loner, certainly someone like him could be one if he so desired.  He kept his head even with the other wolf, but his eyes looked past his shoulder not wanting to show any sign of rudeness to the behemoth.  “You come here frequently? I apologize if I invaded your space.” He probably hadn’t, the guy could of just chased him out easily but it was best to be safe.

Speech
Thoughts

There was a moment's pause as the wolf turned to face him. The Warlord would gain a view of marsh-toned facial colours, and honeycomb eyes. The strangers' hackles rose, then calmed. Showing the willpower the wolf had over his emotions, and how badly he had been startled. The old Warlord hid a smile, tilting elongated fangs upwards as he looked towards the battered remains of the duck. After the feathers and bones, it was not much of a meal. The scent of storm on the night wind did not worry him. The sturdy barracks was a place any Armada wolf could hole up to wait out the weather, as was the celler, and the well-dug dens throughout the territory. What about a rogue in the willows? The land already held a dampness to it, and the mud had a habit of becoming as treacherous as quicksand with a good enough soaking. “This space is not mine, I patrol it for the sake of knowledge. The Armada, my home, lies just to the West of here. Why are you in these woods, I have not caught your scent here before” "Speech"

Naiche was relieved that the giant was keeping his calm demeanor.  Since he didn’t appear to be a threat Naiche put more attention he could focus on the wolf’s features other than the size.  It was an interesting coat pattern and he seemed in fit condition.  Those teeth were nothing to joke about either.

Naiche’s eyes involuntarily shifted west at the mention of the wolf’s pack ‘armada’ was located. So, he hadn’t been quite so dumb as to walk into pack lands.   How to answer the wolf on his question?  An overly short an answer might appear rude, but he also doubted the giant wanted to hear a long story.  On top of that Naiche had no desire to share too much information.  “The band I roamed with had some mishaps that resulted in an alpha’s death and in the end, it broke up.” It seemed a good enough summary for now, “It felt wrong staying where that happened and so this is where my path has taken me.” It was not an ideal spot, better was needed but it would do for temporary rest.  Did an ideal spot exist this way that would not already be claimed?

The thought occurred that the wolf before him had not offered his name. To be fair, Naiche had not given his name either and he was the younger of the two. “I’m Naiche Dauner.” Perhaps giving a name would get one in return.  Would it really matter? This wolf would go back to his pack with no thought to one young lone wolf he’d met.  What were the odds of needing his name? Still, it felt like he should know the name of whom he was talking too, he was also simply curious.

The Warlord took a seat, enjoying the soft sounds of the night. From the running creak, to the occasional hoot of an owl. The creak of the trees was a constant as they complained of the coming storm. The wind that blew through them was chill, and ruffled the coat of the Tyrant. The autumn wolf explained his circumstances, and what brought him here. He told the Warlord that none would miss him, and he had no obligations elsewhere. “I’m Sirius Fatalis, Warlord of the Ashen Armada” he introduced himself. Tipping his head down to look at the smaller wolf. “Tell me, Naiche Dauner, can you fight?” a question that might be innocent in the light of day, on a well travelled road. Here, alone in the dark, it was as ominous as could be. "Speech"

Naiche was still aware of his suroundings but it was in a more dilluted sense now.  If he had been looking at an oil painting before now it was more of a soft water-paint background.  His focus was on the giant wolf.  Sirius seemed calm with no signs of aggression which was certainly a relief but there was no doubt in Naiche's mind that if he upset this wolf there would be trouble.  

A warlord? That wasn't a term he had heard used before as a pack rank but certainly a word he could understand.  This wolf could fight, and it could kill.  Naiche was willing to bet the wolf enjoyed both of those things, at least going by his own jaded musings. A gust of wind stronger than the gentle ones before swept by, storm was getting closer but no drops yet.

As the warlord looked down at him and asked Naiche if he could fight, it both triggered an alarm in his head and an indignant response that came to mind.  Naiche felt his muscles tighten a bit more as adrenaline flooded through him.  Still, Sirius was sitting, hardly a position to attack from. "Of course I can fight," he almost sounded a tad insulted by the question and as he continued the tone shifting to some passionate belief, "A wolf who can't fight is hardly a wolf.  Alone he'll die and in a pack he does nothing but weaken those who must waste energy protecting him.  I won't say I'm the best, but so long as I can stand I can fight."
 Naiche had apparently lost some of his concern at the wolf in front of him when his pride was riled up.  Let no one ever think him a coward.

The Warlord smiled subtly at this stranger's rant. Indeed, there was a great deal of truth to his words. Everyone in the Armada must know how to fight, even if they did not wish to be a warrior. “I meant no offense” he chuckled softly, amused by Naiche’s reaction. The storm would find them soon, and Sirius knew that perhaps it was best to move on, before it caught them out in the open. “You said your band is gone. There is an opening amongst my ranks, if you wish to petition to join, you may.” He left the window open. Naiche had intrigued him enough to make the offer, but beyond that, Sirius was willing to let the man make his own choices. It had been awhile since he had plucked another against their will for his ranks. Now that the Armada had swelled as much as it had, he had to be more careful about who he filled his ranks with. "Speech"

Naiche somehow was both surprised and yet not all at once and that didn't seem it should be possible.  At first glance he would have never expected it.  When he looked at this wolf he didn't see it as one likely to have interest in someone average like Naiche saw himself to be.  At the same time when he had sat there and asked such a question there had been that whisper in his ear that suggested something better.  Still, he hadn't wanted to get too intrigued by something that would not come to pass.  He didn't know this wolf well enough to read him.  

Warlord? It was a rather nice title.  Could he get a fancy rank title also?  Naiche's mind quickly went from wariness to considering the future.  "I have no desire to live as a loner.  If you make sure all who join your pack know how to fight, then I would like to join it," the response given with formal courtesy. "Thank you," the two words came out more awkwardly than prior statements.

A soft roll of thunder still in the distance.  The clouds above them had grown darker, of course being it was night that only meant so much. Naiche could feel a return rumble in his chest.  When teh storm cleared he could aim for something better than duck.  A member of a pack. The thought rolled about his head, tasting the idea.  If it was a strong pack then he should be able to learn how to hunt better.  Big hunts with more rewarding prizes.  How to fight better as every word he had stated would hold true.

With a pack there was something else that accompanied it.  Potential to improve, the potential to grow strong.

“Yes, all who join must learn to fight” he agreed. He was much too possessive for it to be otherwise. He needed them to know how to defend themselves. The sound of thunder heralded the rain to come. It was time they moved along.

“Rest the night in the Armada. Tomorrow, we will see what you can do” tomorrow would be soon enough. As interesting as it might be to fight in the conditions of a thunderstorm, the storm would be upon them soon. His lady love would be wondering where he was, thunder was one one of her weak points. Though he would never betray that secret.

“I’ll show you the way” the man could take residence in the barracks for the night. It was dry, with furs to sleep on. A better comfort then he would find out here.