Mithras was probably a bit past due when it came to introducing himself to the other ruling parties around here, but he justified lingering in his lands a bit longer due to the fact that everyone was still settling in. What kind of leader would he be if he just bounded off for another cross-country jaunt out of the blue? Regardless, he was there now and that was what mattered. He toed the border of the only northern pack, careful not to cross is but trying to get a feel of its interior all the same. At last he let out howl, part greeting and part request. It would be a useless trek if no one came out to say hello, wouldn't it? So he sat down amongst the spring slush and waited for someone to answer him, menawhile wondering what exactly it was he was supposed to say. Hello, I'm your competition! Or, Hello, wanna make plans to not kill each other? Honestly he just wanted a face to face. Once he got a personal feel of the powers that be, he could go home contented. "Talk" "You" Think

A call rang out for her on the borders, and Katja - newly freed of the burden of pups - left the younglings sleeping in her den as she moved to answer. She reveled in the feeling of moving easily under her own power, without the heavy stiffness in her abdomen she'd put up with for so long.

But she froze midstep at the sight that greeted her, hackles rising silently in an alarm that was otherwise hidden beneath a wary, cold appraisal. She had seen a wolf similar, once, but this huge male was even more colorful, like a nebula-strewn sky at night. Her mind coolly ticked on, listing all the possible scenarios. Loki, playing with her. Some vanir in mortal form. A mortal, unusual of color and size but otherwise normal. Perhaps a mortal descended of the gods, as were her own children. "Heil," she offered politely, as the only reasonable course of action for any possibility was to be polite.

A dark female would approach after a short wight. Her coat lacked the pizzazz of his own but that in no way diminished her presence. The leader who came to great him walked with purpose, exuded experience, and gazed at him with a wisdom he envied. All at once he felt very much like the young pup who had acted out in his lessons under the unrelenting eye of their priests. He stood up a bit straighter, and when she addressed him he bowed his head quickly, but deeply with due respect. He got the feeling this meeting would be much different than the one he'd had with Surreal. Good, he was glad he got to mix it up a bit! "Greetings. I'm Mithras Aeris and I was dropping in to say hello. I've claimed a set of lands to the west, now known as Argead, and decided to get to know the neighbors." He ended his speech with a genuine smile and a small shrug. So maybe he still wasn't the most professional of alphas, but where was it written that they all had to have sticks up their asses?

He was a fair bit taller than the other woman and he somehow felt that it was impolite to be so. Call it a boyhood fear of wrongdoing or an overactive sense of chivalry, but he was suddenly quite concerned with whether or not he ought to sit down. Was it too informal? Would that in turn show disrespect? In his opinion is was a show of good faith that she would respect a calling under the banner of peace! He opted instead to force himself to relax. He was still adjusting to this lifestyle, sure, he could forgive himself that. But he would not forgive himself if he let nerves get the better of him and ruin his chance at a good impression! He offered her a genuine smile and opined, "Your lands look lovely, if I dare to say it. They have a strong, hardened beauty. Mine are a bit softer, and plain if I'm being honest, but we take what we can get right?" He asked with a shrug. "Anyways, my point is that my pack will be hosting forums on the solstices of every year, which all pack and rogue wolves alike are welcome to attend. We will also occasionally have lessons intentionally near the borders if we would like to open them to rogue and other pack wolves, so your pack mates are welcome to drop by so long as they come under peaceful intentions." He coughed, feeling awkward once more as he realized how long he'd been talking for, but doing his damnedest not to show it.

The strange star-wolf took her simple greeting and ran with it, a flood of words part introduction, part small talk, and part business. She blinked and let it wash over her as she decided that, unless Loki or the vanir were being particularly clever, this was much more likely to be some mortal with an unnaturally colored coat. He could not possibly be a god, though surely he was god-touched to have such unusual features. "I am Katja Finnvi, the Dróttin of Yfir. What you would call, alpha. I resided in the west with my pack once, some time ago, but I was meant for the north, and so here I will live and here will I die." A bit morbid perhaps, but death was never very far from her mind. It was, after all, of utmost importance to her to die a glorious death and so earn a place in Valhalla beside her sister. "As it happens, my family has a tradition of seasonal festivals. Years ago I sought to make one open to the whole of Alacratia as a gesture of goodwill, but there was... unpleasantries." Her expression twisted for a moment in disgust and anger at the vague memory of the wolf who had sought to vilify her sister's sacrifice. A member of her own pack, which made his attempt to dishonor Auora all the worse. She sought to smooth her expression, pulling her attention back to the star-wolf Mithras Aeris. "Suffice to say the wolves of this continent are not capable of accepting any culture but their own. We no longer hold open festivals of our own. Our festivals do not correspond to the solstices, so you may see Yfir wolves at your... forums." She was unfamiliar with the concept of a forum, though she expected it had a similar feel to the lessons he claimed would be open to anyone. "What would these forums consist of?" she questioned with a hint of caution.

Mithras liked to think he was pretty good at reading others, and he got a sense of this woman immediately. She was business-like and calculating, the stern set to her face implying strength of character instead of discontent. Her words were spoken in a strong voice, and her simple speech stood in stark contrast to his own rambling. He wondered if he ought to feel embarrassed. She remarked that she too had once attempted what he planned, and her frowned when a twinge of pain crossed her features. "I am sorry to hear that, and I thank you for the warning." He had not expected it to be a cakewalk, (ooc: Berrywalk?? Idk?! Do wolves eat cake?!!) but it was another thing to hear of something concrete.

She said that he might be able to expect her and hers at the forums, and asked for a bit more explanation, which Mithras was eager to give. "Well, its still in the works but I had hoped to recruit masters from around the continent to come to Argead and give lessons to those willing. From something specific, say hunting a certain sort of herb, to more broad gatherings like open question-and-answer forums for the younglings, or anyone else interested. Perhaps even a pup rally or tournament of sorts, even just a play arena to foster future friendships, perhaps a rivalry or two." He cracked a grin. Knowing his girls...? Well. Maybe not such a good idea. "I would see it a peaceful place of learning, where packs can stay current on the affairs of the land, should they choose to attend." He knew better than to try and force anyone into anything, and he sense that it would be above and beyond useless with a wolf like Katja. If she wished to attend she would, and if she didn't she would not. It was that simple. So he fell silent and waited to see what she would make of it all.

Katja listened without a word or a hint of judgement as Mithras outlined his idea for what these forums would be. In theory, it sounded much like the harvest festival Raisa had planned for Ebony before her disappearance, a plan that Katja herself had taken and modified not long after. It seemed much more focused on learning than competition however, so in practice in might prove far different. He had the same youthful earnestness Bass had, and she wondered if someone might take advantage of him in the way that Bass was easy to take advantage of. She herself had little interest in the twisty, intricate ways of manipulation, no, if she wanted something she'd much rather take it than manipulate someone into it. It was, she decided, a charming innocence that at turns amused and irritated her. Let him keep that. As for his forum... she was wary of having her wolves teach anything, as flattering as it was sure to be for them to be considered masters of their trades. After all, every pack, every rogue was a potential enemy at some point and it simply would not do for an enemy to know so much about your ways. But learn, ah that she would encourage. "In that case, it is certain you will see Yfir wolves at your forums," she told him firmly. "We have two youths now who are old enough to attend and learn, and perhaps when my own pups are of an age to travel so far, they shall travel with us to participate in this pup events. Competition from other packs will certainly do them good." She considered a moment, reflecting on the male's odd accent and new pack, and the news she herself planned to carry to other packs. "Tell me, Mithras, have you been long in Alacratia? I cannot place your accent."

She answered him with conviction, and he smiled. He dipped his head, a small bow in thanks for her vote of confidence. "I am glad to hear it. If the wolves who follow you are anything like their leader, I am certain they will be more than welcome additions." Perhaps it was flattery, but it was also very true. Mithras doubted this woman was the sort to shy away from recognition where it was due. He added on with a grin, "I too have a batch of girls, born just this past autumn. Hellions, for the most part." He let a dry smirk cover his face for a moment, and twitched a small shrug of 'Whaddya gonna do?' Unexpectedly, she would inquire towards his accent, and he let out the air in his lungs in a long breath. "My sisters and a friend of ours have all migrated away from cruelty across the sea. We were persecuted for resisting a cruel theocracy and fled into exile in the summer of this past year." He had done what he could to learn the native language and for the most part he'd become quite proficient but some things, like his accent, would probably never change.

He did not speak of the siblings he feared he'd lost forever, his parents, or the aunts and uncles and loved cousins who cheered as they were sacrificed. It was still a hard thing to co-exist with, even if it was only inside his own mind. He forced a smile onto his face. "It is part of the reason we seek to do good here, to allow free speech and safety to learn and grow, no matter what you hope to achieve, so long as it does no evil." He speech was quiet and short lived, and he forced himself to be neutral to avoid swinging too far one way or the other, into either mania or despair.  

"My culture teaches that the hellions tend to be the most successful," she observed. "Boldness in children is welcomed and encouraged - though it doubtlessly adds gray to the muzzle at a young age for the parents, hmm?" She fell silent as Mithras went unexpectedly solemn, and explained that he, his sisters and a friend were exiles here. "It is a noble deed," she said in reply. "And I understand the difficulty of being so far from your own culture, with a new language and naught but strangers about you. You have my sympathies." She thought for a moment, considering if a year would have been time enough for him to have encountered either Kismet or Vereux, and decided it would be worthwhile to ask. After all, he could keep watch for them perhaps. "I ask, as a few of our members have disappeared and perhaps you may have seen them in your travels. We seek a Vereux Armada - a young male, slate blue with white markings and a single green eye. He bears a painted mark over his missing eye. He went missing some time ago with no word, and we do not know if he passed from this world or if he yet lives, and chose to betray us by leaving in such a manner. The other is a Kismet Adravendi, a young white male with golden brown on his head and two legs, with one blue and one green eye. He abandoned his post when set to defend Yfir's borders in the midst of a raid, turned his back on us and put our lands in peril with his selfish actions, and we will bring him to face justice for it." Perhaps not the greatest incentive for a kindly wolf to give information up about a wolf's whereabouts, but Katja was hardly going to lie about it.

What Katja said in regards to his children brought a smile to his face. He hoped she was right, and honestly if any creature had the tenacity to take life by the horns it was his girls. Perhaps he would keep an eye on Yfir's young if they attended the forums later in the year. It would probably do his girls good to have influences like this while still young. But that was perhaps a matter for another time. Katja changed her tone as he did, and offered her sympathies. It was reassuring to see that she had made a life for herself here, and he hoped for the umpteenth time that he could too. She asked next after two wolves who apparently had a bounty placed on them by Yfir. He took careful note of her descriptions of them and searched his memory. Nothing jumped out at him, but he had seen so many faces since coming to these lands... "My apologies, but I can't be sure. I don't believe I have, but I will look out for them from now on." He couldn't say if he'd have the heart to turn over two strangers until he knew if they were truly fugitives or refugees, but he wouldn't know until the time came.

A stiff wind kicked up, and he breathed in the sharp scent of the conifers around them. This truly was a wonderful, rugged land, and he was certain it would produce rugged wolves. He gave a small chuckle. "Well, if you ever wish to wear out your children, my brood could certainly use the entertainment. Perhaps it would do well for them to know of one another. I plan to pass Argead to one of them when the time comes, and I assume you have a legacy to pass on as well?" He asked with a raised brow and a grin. He was not the sort to arrange marriages, or any of that nonsense, but he could not deny that a working relationship with the packs of the land would be preferential to any lack thereof. He wondered what Katja would make of it all. Perhaps leaving your children in the hands of another pack would abhor some, but the idea of doing harm to pups was in it's very nature so abhorrent to Mithras that it did not even cross his mind.

Katja inclined her head to him in silence, acknowledging both his words, and the unspoken possibility that he would not turn them over to Yfir's justice. He seemed a gentle soul, even for Alacratia, but perhaps she misjudged him. Time would tell.

He continued on to offer his children as playmates, and she allowed her mind to continue to the logical cultural conclusion - fosterage between packs and families was not uncommon among her people, nor were arranged marriages out of the norm. Still, she did not know this Mithras nearly well enough to suggest such a thing herself, and besides which all the packs in her youth that engaged in fostering were of the same culture to begin with so there was little risk of the pups fostered away to not learn their own heritage. "I am certain Yfir's pups would be delighted to have playmates close to their age," she said instead. "It is a drawback for them, I am sure, to be so far from any other packs with pups. Safer for them to be away from other packs, but I am sure you know as well as I that pups have little regard for 'safety' when they could be having fun."