The trees surrounding him were far taller than any he had ever seen. A whine of excitement broke from his maw as he trotted beneath them, staring up as far as his neck would allow. He found himself drunkenly stumbling over his own paws as he tried to find where the trees ended. It seemed useless, and he quickly determined they must never end. His attention dropped to one of the massive trunks and he marveled at the sheer size of it. "Wooden giants gather here. They grow from clouds and soil you see," he muttered excitedly to himself.

Arató crouched, tail swaying playfully, and began to approach the tree. Ever so slowly, he crept closer until he had just enough reach to prod the bark with his nose. The moment he made contact, he yiped and bounded backwards as if the ancient tree would join him in his antics and follow after him. He only managed to bump into a smaller sapling and released another puppyish yip.

While he was without his full size antlers, Rannoch made certain to go through the forests. The paths were much easier to squeeze through without the massive rack he would grow. Every year the antlers grew larger and now that he had reached his prime years they were even more impressive. Though he had to admit that the red forest was one of the easiest places he could exist, he found himself here throughout the year as there was plenty of room for him to move around. The trees were more massive even than he was. The spring brought the addition of vibrant new green leaves as the atmosphere was solemn yet rejuvenating.

His solidarity was interrupted by the sound of a wolf yelp, and his curiosity got the better of him. His snowy owl was asleep somewhere, but the Raven took off from Rannoch’s shoulder to find out what the commotion was as the giant Irish elk followed after, his verdant gaze falling on the wolf from behind a bit of foliage. The raven landed near the wolf and gave a curious crack of her beak.

"Rannoch"

A subtle snap distracted the boy from marveling at the forest around him. A raven had come to land rather close to him and appeared interested in his antics. He growled playfully at the bird while dropping into a crouch. He expected it would fly off, like most birds did, as he took a tentative step towards it. Before he drew any closer, however, he caught another scent in the air and lifted his muzzle. The smell was familiar, and he recognized it to be a deer of some sort.

Arató turned his attention to the surrounding foliage where he believed his cervid company to be. His tail swayed behind him and his hackles rose along his back with anticipation. While it was not unusual for ravens to approach a wolf, deer were typically far less willing to do so. He knew he was not much of a threat on his own, but remained curious about the animal. He remained crouching, silver gaze scanning the forest with a whine of excitement. “Come out, my hooved friend, I only bite the rabbits and squirrels who scamper and scury,” he muttered mostly to himself in a barely audible hush.

Rannoch blinked his great mossy eyes as the wolf regarded the stark black raven. She fluttered her wings and jumped back at his approach before the wolf seemed to notice his presence. Rannoch rotated his neck and stomped a massive hoof onto the loamy soil before he stepped forward. His great weight sunk into the needle rich soil as he revealed his massive form. The shade of the giant trees dabbled over his forest coat and he lowered his head just slightly.

He wouldn’t be put off guard by the wolf’s statement, but unless he had friends that suddenly appeared Rannoch was in relative safety. Despite the wolf’s soft voice Rannoch’s satellite like ears had no trouble picking up his voice in the quiet forest. "Can you truly claim friendship with a creature that is supposed to be your enemy?” He asked curiously.

"Rannoch"

He giggled at the raven as it jumped back to keep the distance between them, yet it made no move to leave. Almost appearing to be in some sort of kinship with the raven, a massive form then stepped into view from within the shadows of the forest. Arató immediately stood up from his crouching with wide eyes. What approached him was not just a deer, but a bull elk of an impressive size. The bulls antlers had yet to shed the velvet in which they grew, yet Arató could not think of a more fitting beast to have found lurking beneath the sheer monstrosities of trees. The autumn hewn boy sat himself in the bed of fallen needles in a momentary attempt to better suit the air of regality which the elk carried. “Does the woodland king claim to be an enemy?” he questioned. “For it is true your kind does not fancy mine. Blood and gore and savage feasts. That’s our story, nature has told me. But I do think in our case, I would be the one to be bloodied and gored by the woodland king”. He spoke whimsically, not at all unnerved by the size and probable strength of the elk before him.

He wondered then if the elk knew about the giant trees. He wondered if they could tell him how the forest grew so infinitely. The elk didn’t seem fazed by the sight of the trees after all, and the bull seemed so fitting to the area. Arató thought they must know something about these woods. “Do you know of the wooden giants?” he hummed eagerly, “Can you tell me of their secrets? I have not seen such trees that have no canopy”. He looked up pointedly, letting his tongue drape out over his jaws as he did so.

Omen the raven was having much more fun with the wolf than Rannoch might have. The Irish Elk was careful even if he may have been the superior in strength. Any kind of injury could be a death sentence to a cervine such as himself. Still, his antlers weren’t so large that he couldn’t leap over the wolf and flee for his life. Still, the tension in his neck and shoulders did not dissipate.

Beneath the massive trees the wolf spoke up, eager to discount himself as an enemy unless Rannoch bid him. Nature had assigned them roles, predator and prey, but it seemed as if this lone wolf did not feel that strong of a pull. "You aren’t wrong, young one.” He returned in a deep voice, noting the wolf was likely not even in full adulthood yet. "But if you mean no harm, I would not count you among my enemies.” He had befriended Taiga the giant cave lion after all.

Their attention both would return to the scenery around them and the huge trees whose canopy could hardly even be seen here at the ground. Rannoch’s deep green eyes lifted from the yearling wolf to the sky, comprehending the towering monsters. These trees reminded him of home and a time before he lived in Boreas. "Redwoods, they call them. They have been around for longer than many mountain ranges, or so I have been told.” Despite his age, Rannoch was only a baby compared to the old masters around them. "They bear cones like many other confers, sometimes it’s hard to believe that such a giant can come from such a tiny seed.” He returned his gaze to the wolf before him, not certain he divulged the secrets he was looking for.

"Rannoch"

Arató hung on the elks words, his ears twitching atop his skull. He all but swooned at the trees as the bull spoke. His tail swayed behind him, clearing dirt and pine needles from where he sat. “Redwoods,” he repeated wistfully. He imagined pinecones falling from such a height. He imagined the years of progression of the miniscule seeds from sapling to giant, the centuries it must have taken. “Older than mountains. It is no wonder they grow so”. After a moment he let his silver gaze drop back to the elk, his tongue still lolling goofily from between his teeth. His company seemed to look at him as if questioning whether they had given a sufficient answer. “I cheerish the knowledge of the woodland king” he chimed, for their answer had greatly pleased him.

The fiery lad could sense the tension in his company. The elk still seemed ready to flee if the situation required it. Partly attempting to relieve some tension, partly as an outlet for his own antsy whims, Arató turned away from the elk and dropped rather unceremoniously to the ground. He rolled himself over in the debri of the forest floor before jumping back to his paws with a sneeze. He didn't bother to shake out the dirt and pine needles from his coat. The boy cast his silver eyes back to the elk with a sway of his tail.

The young wolf made known that he was satisfied with the answers given to him. Rannoch lowered his head slightly in a nod, offering knowledge instead of running was quite refreshing. However he could not change who or what he was. As a deer there was always an air of flightiness to his mannerisms. Those instincts were how he survived for so long. For there was never an end to an egotistical wolf or pack who wouldn’t want to display a head of antlers such as his in a boast of achievement.

"Yes, you can really feel a connection to the past while in their presence.” He returned in a similarly quiet fashion. The forest seemed to command an almost solemn attitude. Rannoch watched as the wolf tried to relieve the tension in the air. He truly seemed like a humble spirit as he rolled onto the pine needle earth. Exposing his stomach and making himself vulnerable.

Rannoch’s huge ears lifted curiously, but he felt a kindredship with the youngling. So, in a sight rarely seen by predator, the mighty deer lowered himself to his knees and then to his belly before he rolled his own huge girth over onto his back. Scratching an itch as he rolled in exchange. Finally he rolled back onto his belly and with a huge heave lifted himself back onto cloven hooves as he took the opportunity to shake out his sleek coat. Surprisingly he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips as he looked back towards the wolf. "Do you desire a challenge, young one?" He asked, feeling oddly spry after the roll.

"Rannoch"

The young wolf’s tail swayed ever faster as his company lowered themselves to join him in a roll. The smell of the freshly disturbed ground tickled his nose and Arató hummed with pleasure at the feel of the earth and the mountainous forest. As the elk lifted his massive form from the ground, there was a hint of a smile toying at their face. This made Arató shuffle happily with a quiet whine. It was a strange sort of elation which overcame him. Although, it wasn’t an oddity for the whimsical lad to be made giddy by any means. The majesty of the redwoods, and that of his company, seemed to settle the fiery lad, but hardly just. Sparks of reckless whimsy still flickered through him.

The boy tilted his head as the bull spoke of a challenge. “A challenge?” he cooed excitedly, “a challenge given by the king must be worth it. Yes, worth trying at least”. His ears flattened atop his skull and a playful growl coursed from his maw. Eyes wide and eager, he dropped into a sort of play bow. Spurred by sheer excitement, hackles slowly rose along the bony length of his spine. Wondering at the possibilities for what the creature had in mind his skin grew warm, his heart tapping against the walls of his chest. So eager to know, Arató's words came out sharp and quick, as if it was wasting too much time for him to speak, “yes! What challenge has the king got?”

The young wolf seemed quite content with himself, borderline quite happy as Rannoch viewed him as he lifted himself from the ground. He had to remember that the wolf was still quite young, and the wonder of youth did brighten the large deer. He wasn’t a depressive being by any means, but there were few moments he felt such joy as the wolf before him showed. Ran had a proposition, he felt like he could trust the young one enough for this at least. The wolf offered a play bow, eager for Rannoch’s offer.

"You seem like you are a worthy opponent. Practice fight me.” Rannoch had already asked, he offered his challenge now. The huge deer fell into a fighting stance, lowering his head like he was against a challenger. However small his crown was right now he had other weapons and defenses. With quite the concerted effort Rannoch kicked his heels and swung his head, initiating combat against the wolf.

Rannoch vs Arató for Spar
Round 1/ 2?
Age: over 1
Size: Paleo species
Build: Light
Offensive Battle Accessory: Hock Blades
Defensive Battle Accessory: Cape
Companion 2: Northern Raven, Female - Flying
Skills: Intermediate Fighter & Advanced Navigator
"Rannoch"

Arató was pleasantly taken aback by the elks proposition. His ears pricked for a flash of a moment before flattening back. The creature, who had been tense in his presence mere moments ago, was now offering to spar with him. The young boys swaying tail finally went still as he raised himself out of his bow. The light and playful tone of his growl turned into a deep rumble. Lips furrowed to reveal youthfully pale teeth, salmon tongue curling out once over his nose. It was all in good fun for the lad, of course. He rather enjoyed playing the part. Of the playful air he had carried, only the untamed spark of whimsy in his silvered gaze was left. He took a precarious step to his right, letting his left shoulder take the most vulnerable position towards the bull.

“To fight a king,” he hummed amusedly to himself as he studied his opponent, “to fight a king and live to tell. Watch the crown where it gauges and disembowels”. He couldn’t say he’d ever fought a bull elk before. Although, he supposed the weaknesses of any animal were rather similar. With the difference in stature, the bulls’ legs were the most accessible to the boy. The hind limbs were shaped better to inflict a kick, while the fore put him in closer proximity to the head and antlers. In a burst of motion, Arató made a choice and ducked forward to aim a small and fleeting nip at the back of the elks foreleg were their tendons were most exposed. He would try to jump away from any rebuttal just as quickly.

Arató vs Rannoch for spar
Round 1/2
Age: Over 1 year
Size: Medium
Build: Light
Skills: Beginner Navigator

To his pleasant surprise the young wolf was just as receptive and excited as when he had first offered his proposition. As much as he might be helping the wolf, he would be helping himself. Attaining experience fighting against a wolf could be invaluable, there were so many of his kind that ruled these lands. Despite being dubbed a King, he was far from such a high title in wolf society. Sometimes it seemed that every other canid in these lands would simply call him prey or trophy.

The young wolf brought another grin to Rannoch’s features as he initiated battle. He kicked his heels and the wolf took the opportunity to go for the back of his legs that were holding his weight. Clever boy. Rannoch was not without defense though, and his swiftness was met with another stomp of sharp cloven hooves. He didn’t truly wish to hurt the wolf as his hooves struck down though.

Rannoch vs Arató for Spar
Round 2/2
Age: over 1
Size: Paleo species
Build: Light
Offensive Battle Accessory: Hock Blades
Defensive Battle Accessory: Cape
Companion 2: Northern Raven, Female - Flying
Skills: Intermediate Fighter & Advanced Navigator
"Rannoch"

Arato's advances were quickly warded off as the elk stomped their legs. He could feel the flash of hooves graze past his head as he retreated from the attack. A small yip broke through his growls and shot out from his maw. It was not a sound of pain or fear, but that of pure exhilaration. With his proximity to the bull, he had felt the heat radiating from the mass of their body. The blood in his own veins ran hot beneath his skin. He continued to pace in front of the bull, alternating which shoulder was facing in towards his company. His still snarling jaws snapped tauntingly at the open air.

The elk seemed to be enjoying their encounter, which made the boy all the more enthused. It was the thrill of the game. A game that he had not been expecting to play. He had wandered into the forest looking for adventure and new stories, and he had certainly not been disappointed. It was an experience and a story that would likely serve them both well in the future.

Arató vs Rannoch for spar
Round 2/2
Age: Over 1 year
Size: Medium
Build: Light
Skills: Beginner Navigator

And the winner is...RANNOCH

ARATO

ARATO must give up by submitting, fleeing or passing out. Totals: RANNOCH Attack Roll: 13 Defense Roll: 80 Agility Roll: 69 Perception Roll: 94 Total: 256 Attack[13] + 20% Bonus[2.60]: 15.60 Defense[80] + 10% Bonus[8.00]: 88.00 Agility[69] + 20% Bonus[13.80]: 82.80 Perception[94] + 10% Bonus[9.40]: 103.40 Total[289.80] + 10% Bonus[28.98]: 318.78 ARATO: Attack Roll: 79 Defense Roll: 37 Agility Roll: 17 Perception Roll: 7 Total: 140 Attack[79] + 5% Bonus[3.95]: 82.95 Defense[37] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 37.00 Agility[17] + 5% Bonus[0.85]: 17.85 Perception[7] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 7.00 Total[144.80] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 144.80

Rannoch’s heart was beating swiftly as the two of them made battle, however good natured their activity was. He could still feel the exhilaration racing through his veins. His nostrils flared and with a jovial kick of his heels the Irish Elk took his victory over the young wolf. The both of them gaining a bit of experience from the event. He dipped his head once more as his white tail wagged at his back side with the excitement that riled him. A wide grin over his long features.

"You fought well, young one.” He finally said as his hooves settled once more into the pine needle floor. "You are unharmed?” Rannoch asked with a tilt of his velvet crown.

"Rannoch"

He knew he could not best the elk. When it was clear their practice had come to an end, the young boy relaxed his posture; or rather let a jubilant excitement overtake him once more. He lowered his head in defeat, stepping back and giving the bull an awkward sort of bow. He giggled at the elks praise and continued to shake his head, "I am unharmed".

Arató tilted his nose into the air, wondering at what adventures might find him next. The wooden giants surrounding them now ought to lead him to some other new discovery. He passed a glance at the elk, having greatly enjoyed their encounter. "New games are waiting 'round. Perhaps the woodland king might play again someday, somewhere".