Krash, the massive, muscle-bound, scar covered war-wolf from far off lands, courageous and courteous once-commander of soldiers, stood alone in the frigid northlands of Alacritia. The madness of the pursuit of the cataclysm in the north had finally released this wolf, so back to his original quest he went, to find the new home that he belonged in. Throughout his journey in Alacritis he had heard tales of each of the six packs that had taken residence on this continent since the eruption, so therein lay six opportunities to find haven. Here he was at the first, the territory of the close-knit family pack, the warmhearts in the coldlands, Glaciem. On several occasions before he had entered strangers' packlands, on "political" missions for his old pack that would be better called extortions, as well as a handfull of encounters on his new quest, so he knew the custom well enough, the wolfcall he should make. The veteranized wolf feared little, least of all social situations, and he had no reason to be anxious about this encounter, but the feeling was there, some curious disturbance telling him that he would regret forever ruining this meeting. Charging bears have had less an effect on his heart-rate. Fear, though, had a way of becoming rage inside the brown beast as a consequence of the excruciating training he was made to undertake as a young soldier. That rage would surely destroy his chances here if it took him, so for the sake of his future, he would have to keep it and the apprehension away, ?And get this over with quickly.? he thought. He took his place atop a windy hill on the very rim of the territory, held his head high, filled his powerful lungs with frozen air, and called out with a powerful howl that carried the deep strength of his voice in it. Then he stood and waited, still and statuesque, ignoring the bone-chilling gusts and awaiting the representative of the Glaciem pack that he had summoned.

~*~ Now the summer. Now the first thaws of above freezing weather. The first insects buzzing. The first tundra grass poking through in the southern fields. Always there would be snow on the mountains - and in the northern reaches of the pack, but at the very southern tip, good, green earth could be found. The lemmings were in a dizz, the birds were all swamping the skies ? and the caribou could be heard lolling in the vallies. Crusade loved it. And what added to it, was that she herself was bearing some form of new life. Snuggled safe within her were the beginnings of a litter made by her and Cifer. She was dead set upon being careful with them ? no mistakes like last time. But it was still very, very early in her term. Her roundness could only be seen by those who were used to seeing her trim, fit condition, and as of yet she could still do just about anything she wished without fear of damage. So it was that she found herself relaxing in the warm light of the southern hills. Well, warm by Glaciem standards. To anyone else, things would still be shiver-worthy. It was here that Crusade?s dusk tipped ears were perked by the sounds of a howl ? that of a wolf seeking a possible entrance. It was a male?s by the sound. A large males. And curse it, if Crusade?s first reaction wans?t to stay put. She still bore the scars from Oberon, the last rogue she?d tangled with upon the border. There was no doubt in her mind?. If Gargoyle hadn?t come along when he did? she?d have died that day ? and never lived to become mates with her love Cifer, or become a herald of new lives into the world. And yet to be stilled by fear or memory had never been a part of what made up the Timber fae. Never. With a snort and stretch, Crusade rose to her paws. In Glaciem, there was none Gargoyle trusted more than she. She was his representative to other packs and a trusted confidant within this one. Her word was as good as his, and certainly that word, when suggested to the Chief was a certainly of entrance or dismissal. Besides, with how well her Gargie kept his borders patrolled, he or Cifer or one of the others would be along soon enough. ?Afternoon, stranger,? she said, rising up the hill of the border and coming into view. She inclined her head graciously, but was careful to keep her remaining green-gold orb squarely fixed upon the newcomer. ?You stand upon the border of Glaciem pack, and as your scent is that of a loner, I can only assume you seek a home. So tell me, stranger, what sort of home is it that you seek?? True to form, the old she-wolf was collected, and calm; she was polite, but to the point. Whether she was facing a soon to be new pack-mate, or a dangerous loner, she would begin by greeting him the same way. Now the ball was in his court and it was time to see what sort of wolf had come knocking at her door. ~*~

But the wolf that came to greet him was not at all as he had expected. A female, not a brittle small thing like those he had met on the path here, but large and strong. Not soft and homebound as he foresaw the members of this pack might be, but a warrior who had obviously acquired injuries from a turbulent past. The way she moved her body, how she stood dignified and spoke confidently, and all the subtleties in her shape were all the familiar signs of a woman who lived as a fighter. She was much alike the female warriors of his birth-pack in many ways, and Krash hoped that this didn?t mean that she was as brutish as they, meaning that the image his mind had drawn of a peace-loving Glaciem were false. Her words seemed civil enough, but even many of the wolves in his past had learned to talk as if they weren?t violent murderers. It would take a closer look to determine if this were the home he sought, but at least these doubts of Glaciem distracted Krash from the doubts of himself, so leaving him able to speak as well as he needed. For propriety, the male decided to put off answering the question presented to him until after a proper introduction. He lowered his large head, turned his eyes down, and placed one paw forward in a gallant bow, held that way as he announced himself, ?Greetings, miss. My name is Krash, once-beta of the Aginulfus pack of the great mountains far beyond the edge of Alacritis...? He arose with a short pause in speech, then continued, speaking with a low and robust voice, at a calm rate, ?And your intuition is correct. I do seek a new home...? Throughout the conversation, Krash would not move from his spot, not even twitching as the winds stung at the thick skin that his short fur could not protect. His eyes stayed on the Glaciem representative, devoid of the worry he had felt just shortly before she had arrived. ?... a haven unlike the place I was born to. A community of honorable wolves, led by wise leaders. A peaceful family that may kill to protect their beloved, but for nothing more...? He took another pause, his gaze slowly moving across all the scenery before him. These cold lands did not look the part of the perfect, hospitable abode, but the ex-soldier hoped that for once, looks would be deceiving. One last sentence would end his presentation: ?Is Glaciem the home I seek??

~*~ Crusade's single gold-green eye tracked the male carefully. She took in his form, his stance and his muscle mass. Old habits die hard so the saying goes, and before Crusade had really realized she was doing it, she'd sized this male up for a fight. She'd made guesses at what attacks he would use first, what his weak points were - judging from the many scars - and how intelligent he might be. This wasn't to say she was coming off as agressive. No. To Crusade fighting was more than a way to settle arguments or gain dominance. It was an artform and a way of life - the greatest dance ever designed by the wolf gods. A good warrior could earn her respect far quicker than any other breed of lupine. So it was that Crusade listened with interest to the male's words. He gave his name, his former rank, and his former pack. He had a history this one, and Crusade was curious about it. Still, prying wasn't her nature. She was more interested in what a wolf could do than what they had done.Besides, it appeared his birthpack wasn't exactly the perfect home. The question left hanging in the air was one Crusade took quite seriously. "I think so.." she murmured. "We are as much an army as we are a family - and after just recently coming through great disaster, we've all been reminded that the latter is often stronger than the former. - Glaciem sits in one of the harshest environments you will find. Blizzards, bears, avalaches and wild cats, are threats we face often enough, but if these hold no fear for you, if you are willing to work hard and risk danger for the sake of those who will gladly do the same for you? - then yes, Glaciem could fit you very well." Crusade had been an Alpha for years and in that time she'd learned to get a feel for character. Her gut, or rather, her heart, was something she'd long learned to trust. In cases like these she was only scratching at the surface of a deep character, yet she liked the look and manner of the scarred male. "The leader of the pack-," she told him calmly, "-is my younger brother Gargoyle. If you wish to meet with him, it would be my pleasure to escort you." ~*~

A family... and an army? It wasn't what Krash had imagined at all, not from the description of the pack that others had given him. It was no peaceful haven, according to miss Crusade, but a deadly place to call home. He wasn't sure exactly it was that he did imagine, but it wasn't a constant fight against bears and weather. Of course these wolves of the coldlands would be so large and toughened as her and he, they lived a life that might have been as tough as the one he left behind. But perhaps Glaciem was a home even better than what he thought he sought? Krash had fought against the brute he was ever since his journey began, but again and again his old ways found him. It could be that he was meant to live against a struggle, and a home like this one, not lacking in need for his strength, would be the only place he could live. The war-beast needed to fight, but he would not do so in vain. Glaciem appeared not to be warmongers, fighting for their own protection and safety, so even warriors, they were not Aginulfus. Here he could fight for good reasons and not for hate, greed, or simple bloodlust. Here he could find purpose and become the guardian of good souls, not the conqueror, hound of the vicious sovereign named Gundbern. No, his gift of might would bring safety and sanctuary to others, and the fight itself would be his haven. Assuming that everything he was hearing and surmising of them was true... He had no reason to distrust the woman before him other than the resentment he grew to feel with all other warrior-types. Each scar meant a battle, and likely a death, and how could he know if the killing was justified? Such thinking might make him a hypocrite, he who bore many scars on his pelt and more unjustified deaths in his heart, but that only contributed to the reasons to be wary of another brute; she may have as many murders on her conscience and not have sought redemption. "If possible, I would like to join you temporarily - a trial, we could call it - so I can see if I do want to... spend my life here. Would your brother be the wolf to speak to, who has the authority to approve such?" asked Krash slowly, as he was still thinking it out as he said it. This would hopefully satisfy his doubt and still give him a chance. Yes, just give him a couple months to investigate the pack and see what they truly stand for, and he could decide to stay or leave then, if they are willing to accept the proposal.

~*~ Crusade listened carefully to the male's, that is, Krash's words. There was hesitance ringing there, but also hope. Of course Crusade was of the opinion that a wolf was lucky to get into Glaciem at all, but then she knew it so well. To her it was paradise. This was a male who'd obviously been through harsh places. There was wisedom in his hesitation - he did not sell his soul to any pack who would give him shelter. This was something to be respected. "Certainly," Crusade said in answer to his question. "Gargoyle is our Alpha - or Chief as we sometimes call it." She turned, and flicked her tail inland, before setting off in the direction, careful to keep her ears trained back upon the male. It was an old habit. If the male was willing to follow, she'd bring him across the snowy folds of the southern feilds, cross some of the wooded foothills and head more towards the heart of the packland. At one point, Crusade hung back her head and howled. Krash's howl had brought her, but there was never a guarentee that one wolf-song would be heard across so vast a kingdom, and by exactly the pair of ears one wished. But if Gargoyle was within earshot of his sister's howl, he'd come sprinting. As they walked, Crusade looked the male over- having been careful to walk so that he was on her good side. "You seem quite interested in finding a home you can accept that you take it for granted we would accept you." she smirked slightly, almost pleasantly. "Thankfully, in Glaciem, this is rather true. So long as you have a sense of honor and family, you may fit in quite nicely. Time will tell. But I am curious - I've described Glaciem, would you be kind enough to describe yourself? What sort of wolf are you, Krash, other than the obvious fact you have been a warrior for some time." ~*~

The more Crusade talked of Glaciem, the more Krash believed it was where he needed to be. His long journey was at an end, if only he could convince this female and her brother to take him. This place had just enough hardships to keep the moments of pleasantness meaningful, and the warrior wolf would have a charge to give himself value. The irony that the duress he sought to be away from would have a major part in the equation of his perfect home left him smiling at the thought. The dame he walked with then spoke an inquiry: she asked what kind of wolf Krash was. But what could he say he was? Before he had left the mountains, all he was allowed to be was the warrior she saw in him. From the day he was born they bullied and commanded him, trying to shape him into an aggressive killer like the rest of them. For a time, they even nearly succeeded. He was, after all, Krash, the efficient and unbeatable commander, the 'Beast of the Mountain'. He never loved killing, even then. He only did what he thought he must, or face the wrath of Gundbern the Vicious. Deep down, he made a constant effort to defy them, resisting influence and keeping a distaste for violence in his heart that only served to grow his vast guilt. Guilt that he bore, and would not defeat him, but inspire him to stay good beneath, and do what subtle things he could to lessen the war-pack's damage. What others thought were victories won swiftly by his overpowering dominance were actually ploys to end battles with as little death as possible. Whatever they did to him, he would remain the honorable wolf he knew he was. Was that even true? Along his journey he had met truly peaceful wolves, so because they had no other choice, and still he hurt them when old influences took over. Had he really beaten the training of his once-pack, or was he lying to himself? Who's to say he wasn't doomed to repeat the acts with his new family? So he couldn't tell her about the killer he thought he wasn't, and she didn't care to hear what a warrior he was... but maybe he could pick out a few of the details from between. "Well, I try to treat others courteously," Perhaps the only good thing to be said about Aginulfus wolves is that they could act well refined, when they weren't being barbaric to others. "I have a good mind for strategy, and have leadership experience," though that's obvious after he told her his past rank... "I am honorable, and... I strive for peace over conflict, when I can." If at least his conscious mind believed it, then it couldn't be a lie, Krash told himself. That must seem like a horribly fallacious story to Crusade, this monstrous and battle-scarred wolf supposedly a pacifist, and he wouldn't believe that if it were told to him by another, but it would likely be this Gargoyle fellow who he had to convince, anyway. Krash's worry began to return, only slightly yet, as he felt his push for admission may be failing. He could have only told them he was a perfect warrior and been taken in easily, but in being more truthful he potentially made himself look a liar, and correcting or adding to it at this point could only perceivably make it worse. He held onto his confidence as best he could, passing the torch of the conversation back as the two continued on into Glaciem territory.

~*~ What an interesting wolf her current traveling companion was. The great scarred male's answer was thoughtful, and -when it was taken at face value - it made him out to be just the sort of wolf that Glaciem would be happy to have. But something in his tone, his hesitance, even his cadence, left Crusade wondering. Perhaps it was the intution of a she-wolf, perhaps the wisedom that supposedly comes with age, but believed there was more to this male than was let on. As she'd accepted many a newcomer in her time, she knew the trial it was to try to balance out your selling points, with your less loveable quirks, and how to find the one between the loyalty to inform the Alpha of your character, and the discomfort of having to explain yourself to strangers. And speaking of Alphas... ?-Well there?s the Chief.? A wry little smile played upon Crusade?s muzzle as she saw her brother come bounding across the snow. The two of them looked nothing alike ? Gargoyle was by far the bigger and darker, and while she sported a thick brush of a tail, he had nothing but a stub. She was old and scarred, he was in his prime ? and dangerous. Crusade couldn?t help but wish their mother had lived to see him. To see him grow and shape himself. He was as fearsome a warrior as she had ever been, and now he had something worth protecting and fighting for. She was happy to have given him her place as Alpha. ?Gargoyle!? she called, avoiding the temptation to call him by his puphood nickname. She stepped aside as her brother came closer and made herself useful as introducer. ?Krash, this is my brother, Chief of Glaciem. Gargoyle, Krash is here on consideration of a new home.-? Crusade continued, summing up what Krash had already informed her of ? his prior position as Beta in a rather violent pack that he was ready to move on from, his search for a peaceful home, and ended it with the best recommendation she?d been known to give: ?I like him. He?s proposed a trial period which would be wise for both parties. But the final decision rests with you.? she lowered her head respectfully. (this will be Crusade?s last post unless she?s called back) ~*~

~*~ The paws of a good Alpha are never still. Gargoyle was certain he?d heard the saying somewhere along his travels, and it was fitting that it should come back to him now. Indeed, even if he didn?t wish to be fit ? it would be hard not to be with such a job as his. He was forever checking on things, hunting, patrolling borders and training. On this day he?d been stlaking down a waylaid musk ox calf near the borders when his sister?s call alerted him. He came, as always, at a high lope and without the usual load of snow to hamper his way, he practically flew over the ground. Anyone happening to see him dash by in the distance would?ve declared him too large for a wolf ? a young bear, it must?ve been! But when Gargoyle slowed to a stately prowl and encroached upon the border, it became clear that he was lupine. Ears, one tattered and shredded, swiveled in the direction of a newcomer. The nose twitched. The yellow eyes gazed in lifeless, analytical silence. As he did upon meeting any new wolf, he sized this one up. His pregnant sister made him espically alert towards any signs of aggression or danger. Well, this male had danger written all over him. Scars layered upon scars. Muscle mass in places that only came from long hard training. The quiet stance of a practiced warrior. Add that to what Crusade summed up of their conversation and Gargoyle knew he was facing an interesting creature. Whatever the details were, this one indeed had a past. They say a wolf in wool can fool sheep, but never another wolf. ?My thanks, sister. I?ll take things from here.? Gargoyle murmured with a dip of his own head ? yet even as he turned his gaze, he kept an ear trained upon the newcomer. He watched his sister trundle off over the first crest of hill before he made ready to converse with Krash. ?Well you're no lap dog." Gargoyle rumbled looking the male up and down. It was nice to see a wolf who looked like he could hold his own. But Gargoyle wasn't here looking for a sparring partner. This was someone who was asking to come into his home, to eat and sleep amongst his family. "I'll wager you've seen damage done in your seasons. Perhaps caused some too.? Gargoyle eyed the big wolf carefully; calculations toted up behind those lifeless yellow eyes, but what they amounted to could only be guessed at from his words. ?I can appreciate the need for a new start ? and the dangers it can entail to those around you. Whatever wars you might have fought in your past, they are in your past. Here we have an odd mix - innocents living beside bloody-pawed veterans. It's those innocents and loved ones that we protect that make us more than any mob or pack. We're a family. If you wish a trial period within it, I'll give it to you, for I'm always looking for a good soul with strong claws, however, any darkness, any self-doubt, any ambition, you must leave behind you at the border.? Gargoyle could be eloquent when he wished. But when it came to wolves of his own caliber he didn?t muck about. He got to the point, plain and simple. He?d fought, killed, tortured, even drunk blood on a couple of occasions, ?light-hearted? had never been a word to describe him. His lack of emotion was done more out of concern for those around him than for any other reason. If he seemed to straight forward or heavy to some that was their problem. But veterans, they understood. ~*~ ~Don't want to let you down, but I am H.e.l.l.b.o.u.n.d.~