Surreal

Surreal padded along the edge of the field, head level with her shoulders, tail at a level with her spine, mismatched blue and gold eyes studying the torn land that had seen much strife, and countless deaths over the past. She was young, and yet had already experienced her first real battle. Had already risen to the status of Beta female in Valhalla. Thus, she needed to be stronger than ever. As skilled as a veteran. As wise as an elder. A shadow crossed before her, as Battlesong drifted on thermals far above her, the bird?s keen golden eyes sweeping the land for other figures. Surreal?s head lifted as she turned to face into the field, ears pressing forward, tail flowing to align with her back. Paws rested in a balanced stance as she gazed out over the Battlefield, on eye on the hawk soaring above. Silver fur rippled under a light breeze, and she turned her face into the wind, tasting and taking a deep breath of it, rolling its contents and information through her mind. Old blood, new blood, the most recent perhaps a day or so old. Torn earth still drying under a spring sun. Many scents mingled, some containing fear, others the rage of battle. As yet, she saw no one, and Battlesong hadn?t alerted her to a newcomer to the area, so she stepped out, treading lightly around splotches of stained grass, tail at half mast, ears rotating and flicking to catch the tiniest sounds. This was a place where one needed to be alert, or risk bumping into more trouble than was being sought. The hawk gave a long cry, the call thin at the distance the bird was flying from Surreal. Dark ears perked, and Surreal raised her head to it?s utmost elevation, scanning the horizon for the other being. After a moment, the silver Timber marked she-wolf raised her muzzle and uttered a full-throated howl to the sky. She did feel rather pleased that little of her youth showed in the song, as her head lowered, and her eyes returned to the ground above which Battlesong circled, tracking the newcomer?s movements. A moment later, she recoiled, mentally, in disgust. Glaciem. The northern scent rippled over her nostrils, giving her tongue a bitter taste. Her expression fell into the blank, reserved set that her mother and uncle were famous for, eyes resting on the approaching Glaciem wolf. For now, She would reserve judgment.

The yearling had taken an interest to the battlefield, he was often found on it's edges watching others spar and fight, watching their movements in the shadows. Living his life in the shadows, that was whom the friendly yearling had become. He wasn't a complainer. He hadn't made the first effort to make friends, though he wondered what it was like to run with his pack, and actually participate. He had become quite the lanky creature, his body shooting from puppy height to the half grown state he found himself in, though he was thin he was muscular, as he spent a lot of time on his own exploring and learning the lands. Today the battlefield appeared quiet, and he watched with vague interest from the helm of the shadows as a wolf entered the field, a flying shadow above her. A companion perhaps? He would watch her halt, and stand there, his one seeing eye curious as he looked out at her. It seemed no one was approaching. From here, he couldn't tell if she had any affiliation, and he slowly rose to his paws after a few more moments of observing her. Stepping from the shadows, he moved easily from the shadows and slowly approached her. As he moved, she howled, calling him forward, and he sped up, his long legs covering the ground easily. Slowing as he neared her, his tail wagged behind him, completely friendly, he would halt some feet from her. Then he smelt it, Valhalla. His eyes widened slightly, but he brought a kind smile to his face, she seemed young, perhaps she wasn't so rivalry bound? "Hello!" He would greet with a light woof, and then go on to introduce himself. "I'm Seth of Glaciem.. I can tell you're from Valhalla, but I haven't met many other wolves. What's your name?" He would ask in a friendly tone, curious, as he watched her, glancing up at the bird that was still flying. Speech,

Surreal

With a chilling calmness that she didn?t feel inside, Surreal watched the young male approach, all wags and wiggles. She saw the moment he identified her pack scent, though he didn?t drop his initial behavior. He introduced himself, tones friendly, but the Beta of Valhalla wasn?t going to let her guard down. Mismatched eyes flicked past him, checking for ambushes. ?If you know I am from Valhalla, then you can understand why I?m not too fond of you right away. Your king brought war upon my pack over hurt pride. We did nothing to threaten his life. Nothing to threaten his pack. We were only protecting one of our members from being taken away from all she knew. He killed a wolf on our borders. I got a look at the fallen wolf, and he didn?t even get a chance to fight back. You may see your leader. But we see a murderer.? Terse tones in words given with cold honesty. ?As for my name, I am not dumb enough to give it out freely to anyone from Glaciem. And you should be careful about being so friendly around an enemy.? Mismatched eyes swept over the young male. He wasn?t one she had seen at the battle, though he could have been missed while she was fighting her one opponent. He bore no obvious fresh scars that she could see, and walked without lameness. There was something about the male, however, that triggered a faint feeling of recognition. She was pretty sure they had never met in either of their young lives. For the time being, she would shove that curiosity aside. ?I take it you are here for a spar?? She stayed civil. Not all Glaciem wolves were bad. Eris, the healer her mother had helped to birth two stillborn pups and one live pup, was a good wolf. Impra, a prisoner, had been just good enough to show gratitude for her mother saving her life when she fell ill. This young male had approached her with friendliness, despite her obvious scent. Taurig had come from Glaciem. And he was strong and honorable. But he had grown up with his mother, who Erani was very much like. He hadn?t been raised by the pink prick. Paws shifted, falling into a relaxed, balanced stance. Readied for anything, as her tail aligned with her spine in a flick, head lowering as her chin tucked for protection to her throat. Eyes squinting, she pulled back her ears and watched the male, waiting for his answer, or attack. Or both.

Well, she didn't seem that friendly. As she started talking he sighed. Would the Vahallan's never get past their defeat? They pissed off someone. War ensued. They lost. Wolves died. It was how life was. Why ponder it? The Vahallan wolves had also killed one of the Glaciem wolves. Why couldn't the world just move on? And why did he get the feeling that her chilly behavior was only because of his pack. He rolled her eyes when she finished speaking, going on to say she wasn't dumb enough to give out her name. Calling him an enemy struck something of a nerve in the young wolf. She didn't know him. She knew nothing about him but a name and a pack. Why was he the enemy? The smile on his jaws faded, and he opened his jaws to speak. "I didn't come here to debate politics. The war is over. We lost a pack-mate as well. Say what you will about my king, but he did what he felt was right, and he is a good man. Perhaps you should consider where you see a demon, those he has helped, see a friend. If Isardis hadn't given me the shelter of Glaciem when he did, I'd be dead... I don't care where you came from. Valhalla or Glaciem, if you can stop being so chilly for five seconds you'd realize that I'm trying to be polite here, by telling you who I am. I'm here for a spar, not a debate in pack co-existence." He drew silent for a moment, pretty sure he'd struck a nerve, not that he cared. She didn't have to be so tense. Vahallan's weren't total victims. He had heard the whispers, and he didn't look at them like victims. The wolf they fought so hard for wasn't a prisoner. She had rank in the pack, and rank meant some level of respect. "If a spar is what you seek, I need some practice, wolf whose name I don't know. I could call you fluffy?" He spoke again with a slight smile. Looking at the seasoned looking youth, he knew he'd probably get his ass kicked but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it and learn something from her. "No serious maims, is my only request." He spoke seriously now, lowering his head slightly. Waiting either for a reply or an attack. "Lady's first." He offered her the first move, after all he had manners, and even if she wasn't friendly, doesn't mean he had to be rude. Speech,