[Joining] Here Comes the Traveler

[Rigs]

Rigmarole had since tired of his aimless wandering. He had grown weary of meeting new wolves and having them gone from his life for good. He put on a charming front for them. He dazzled them with his words, but when they had grown weary of him and he of them, they parted ways. Such was the pattern, and such a pattern was getting boring. What if he had an audience that was forth to be close to him? Now, that would be fun.

The lanky wolf moved at an idiosyncratic gait. He seemed to somehow sway back and forth as he walked with his head bobbing at each step due to how long his legs were. He had a short, thin body and the proportions of a fawn. He seemed adequately camouflaged to the land: a silver-gray speck on a brown-gray plains.

The plains was like a landsea, there seemed to end to it and like an ocean, it was both empty and teeming with life. A wind blew across the plains and tickled the grass so that they shimmered the sunlight on their dry blades like waves. The gray timber wolf could smell the markers of the territory. Finally, a pack. And, this meant, that he’d have a guaranteed audience. He could feel himself grow giddy.

He was a currently a loner and not so savvy to the ways of a pack wolf—even to joining, but he knew the stories that the good old boys used to tell about pack joining. And it started with: and I howled at the borders.

His travel mates seemed a thousand times worldlier than he was. Some were orphans, others had scars to prove that their life had been hard. Riggers? He had nothing except that he was born a runt and for his first couple years of life, had to live with an embarrassing name.

Still, today would be the first day in the rest of his life. He pointed his muzzle up to the Spring sky and howled a sweet, lilting song that fell deep at the end. This was his joining song. And now, his gold-gray eyes were searching the blurred horizon line for the Alpha. His ears were pricked, primed for his host to appear. And his dark nose twitched and he shifted his weight from paw to paw as he waited. He could never stand still.

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[atrb=background,http://i56.tinypic.com/25zkpwm.png] words • "talking" • thinking The plains were notoriously good for finding creatures such as prairie dogs, hares, and rabbits, along with different birds that either rested or lived among the tall grasses. Rostyn was taking advantage of that for the first time in weeks, and had been stalking the same hare for several minutes now. It was difficult for him to blend in among the brown grass, but so far he had managed it. He crept forward, his muscles tensed to pounce as he prepared to go in for the kill. A few seconds and the hare hopped just a little closer. It was enough. Rostyn sprang forward, reaching towards his prey. But just as he did, a call stretched across the plains, startling his prey before he had a chance to land. The hare ran, escaping death for one more day. Rostyn landed where the hare had been just moments before, but he was no longer thinking about the meal he had lost. Instead he stood, head held high and ears pricked. The song was just coming to an end, and Rostyn felt that it was close by. Not a trace of anger over his lost meal crossed his face. He was far more interested in the source of the call than anything else. Without hesitation, Rostyn leaped forward and sprinted for the source of the sound. It did not take him long to reach the border of his territory. When he was close he slowed his pace to a stead trot and tested the air with his nose. The scent of the stranger drifted faintly and Rostyn knew that it was close. Turning, he traveled along the border for a short time until he noticed the shape of a wolf in the distance. The grass was not tall enough here to hide him completely, so he would not have been surprised if the stranger could already see him. Rostyn kept up a steady trot, approaching the stranger at an even pace. As the stranger came into better focus, Rostyn closed the gap until there were fifteen feet lying between them. He stopped there, not wanting to come any closer at the moment. In the friendliest voice that he could manage, Rostyn called out. “Hello there! Can I help you?” There was a smile on his muzzle and a friendly look in his eye. It was always good to see someone calling at the border. That meant that there was a potential member, and this pack needed members. So he did his best to be friendly and welcoming to those who came his way. word count;; 431 starring;; rostyn for;; rigs muse;; not too bad comments; joining threads tend to be a little monotonous for me, so my posts may be shorter and more boring. sorry

[Rigs]

Rigmarole wagged his tail in anticipation. He was fidgety as always and his ears were still searching for the sounds of any approaching packwolf—most notably, the leader. The gray wolf’s eyes couldn’t see the twin pricked ears of the Alpha due to the deep plains grass. Though the movements of the white wolf rustled the grasses that he moved through, the slight wind obscured the movements by rustling the tall leaves of grass. Rigs relaxed as he saw the Alpha reveal his position, parting the grasses and pressing down the stalks with his own body weight so that now, through a curtain of grass blades, they could see each other.

So far, the impression that Rostyn gave was a good one. It seemed that Rigs had really picked a winner of a pack to join. And it excited him: the perfect environment in which to act upon his impulses. The runt was happy that this particular wolf was going to be his Alpha. At least, he assumed that Rostyn was going to be his Alpha due to the fact that he was the only wolf to arrive to his joining call and to the fact that he responded so quickly. So, Rigs mentally measured the white wolf before him, prompt, polite, and probably progressive.

Riggers made his eyes to shine with an easy expression and his mouth to hold a grin as if he was going to break into a chuckle. “Help me? Sure you can!” he replied, his voice was cocksure and the tone was bright, matching his tall, thin, and rangy appearance. Rigs had one straight ear and one ear that bent at the tip on good days and flopped sideways on bad days. Today, was an okay day, so it was half-folded and sticking out sideways. It gave him a friendlier expression, softer, and a bit immature as well. He continued by announcing his intentions, “I’m, ah, aiming to join a pack. Now, I hope you forgive me for any sort of, for lack of a better term, fuck-up. I’m not experienced in this pack-joining endeavor.”


((OOC: Still getting a feel for this character and site, so my posts are really short, too. Sorry if I didn't give you enough to work off of.))

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[atrb=background,http://i56.tinypic.com/25zkpwm.png] words • "talking" • thinking Rostyn took time to size the stranger up as he waited for a response. From what he could see, this wolf seemed laid-back to some extent and friendly. It was easy enough to see that he would fit in well with Rostyn’s vision of the pack. Or, at least that’s what Rostyn was thinking. Only time would tell if this stranger would fit in with Rostyn’s vision for the pack. It had been a long time since a wolf that had come to the border had caught his eye enough to make him interested in allowing it join his pack. So many who stopped at the border were too self-centered or too caught up in being the best. Rostyn wanted someone who would get along with the rest of the pack, as well as with him. Conflict was something that he thought was best to avoid. Rostyn pricked his ears as the stranger responded. The tone of voice that the male used put Rostyn at ease. He liked this male quite a bit already. Well, as much as he could without actually having known the wolf for very long. Rostyn usually got along with anyone who was friendly and not uptight, so he felt as though he would get along with the stranger. And, from what this wolf said, he was looking for a pack to join. That was great! Rostyn had a potential pack member who was someone that he already liked. Things were looking up today. “Well, if you’re looking for a pack to join then you’ve stumbled across the right one,” Rostyn answered quickly. “Nyack’s in need of members and from what I can tell you’ll fit in quite well here.” Rostyn gave the stranger a quick, friendly, welcoming smile. “Don’t worry about messing up. It’s hard to get things wrong around here. We’re a pretty laid-back bunch around here. Not that there’s many of us! But before we talk about that anymore, may I ask for your name? I’m called Rostyn, and I’m the alpha around here.” word count;; 339 starring;; rostyn for;; rigs muse;; ick comments; sorry for the wait! and sorry my post is crappy...i've got a lot of school to focus on -_-

[Rigs]

A wind blew. Playfully, it mussed Rigs’s fur in the same way it did the grass; like a mother’s unconscious lick across the head of her cub, the wind stroked both the fur and the long, dry blades of grass the wrong way. Rigmarole lifted his chin in the smallest increment as the soft gust hit him, letting it to have a little more room to hit his neck and play with his side-flopped ear. The question that Rostyn asked was interesting to Rigs: Other than the mention of a pack, there was no difference between his meeting of the Alpha and his meeting another loner. But he knew, from the stories that his traveling friends would tell, the life of a pack wolf was much different than that of a lone wolf.

“Well, Rostyn,” the pale brown-gray wolf said in his soothing, silvery voice, “I’m called Rigmarole. But, yeah, most wolves that I’ve met call me Rigs or Riggens or Rigger or something like that. A nickname. You’re free to pick-and-choose what, uh, moniker you find easiest to refer to me.” He liked exercising his vocabulary because he believed that it made him sound smart. Rigs was a rather conceited wolf at times, but it wasn’t anything he had to hide: He thought it added to his whole cocky and proud persona in a good way. It was, at least, a large step ahead of the meek, shy wolf he truly was. Runty, that little dog!

Rigs shifted his weight from foot to foot. With each sway of his body, he leaned into one of his forepaws. His shoulder shifted and displaced the fur upon the blade of the bone as it moved before he switched to the other foot and the shoulder laid back down and the fur was into its natural position again. He really was a bony looking wolf. He stood thirty inches high, but weighed only seventy pounds. It didn’t matter what he did, he never seemed able to build up much bulk. However, the impatient fidgeting that fully presented his thin frame was due to the fact that a question plagued his mind.

“So, uh, how does this whole pack thing work? I know the good ol’ boys I knew a while back, they all told me that the pack wolves get a part to play and a rank to be. So, I wanna know how you figure where I go.”

ooc: I worked hard on the post and it used to be longer, but there was a brownout and my laptop shut off and I lost some of it.

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[atrb=background,http://i56.tinypic.com/25zkpwm.png] words • "talking" • thinking Rostyn tested the wind discreetly with his nose, something he did quite frequently. As it swept across the earth, gently flowing through his fur, it also offered up different scents for him to sample. There was the scent of pine, from the forest, and of earth, from the ground. The scent of grasses from the plains greatly outweighed any other scents. There were the light scents of other animals that made their home in his territory, but nothing substantial. There were no other wolves upwind of him. Satisfied, he let the breeze blow by, enjoying the feel of it through his long, white fur. “Well, Rigs,” Rostyn said in his calm, friendly voice, making his choice in a nickname of the interesting stranger. “It’s very nice to meet you.” It seemed that he might have a new member in this wolf. It was good to have any kind of new member for the pack. Whether or not this wolf would be useful did not matter much to Rostyn. Anyone was welcome here, since the alpha simply enjoyed the company of other wolves, as long as they knew what respect was and were willing to show it not only to him, but to the other pack members as well. Rostyn listened to Rigs as he spoke, but he already had answer ready for the male. “Well,” he began. “There’s a bunch of different ranks that you can have. Each one comes with its own job. We have hunters and scouts and sentries and warriors. Or, if leading is more your thing, we have commanders, and leaders for the scouts, sentries, and hunters. There’s the Beta, the second in command rank, and the Delta, which are in command of separate groups of the pack. Once we have pups, we’ll need pup sitters.” Rostyn had pretty much counted off all of the possible ranks in his pack. “The higher ranks aren’t available to just anyone. You have to prove yourself over time. But the other ranks are fair game for anyone who wants to try them out. So, just let me know what you feel comfortable with, and we can place you there. We can always change your rank later on. This pack is pretty relaxed.” word count;; 371 starring;; rostyn for;; rigs muse;; not bad comments; the last paragraph is mostly dialogue. sorry about that.