Looking for a reward{OPEN, Good/Unaligned}

Somewhere on the distance an outstanding sight could be seen. A large white wolf, perfect, beautiful and lithe stood. A breeze lightly tugged on her fur as she gazed through the trees in the land tinged blue and green. Her golden eyes slowly scanned ahead of her, each detail finding a place to be stored away for furture use. The placement of each tree, bush, blade of grass, fallen leaf, all of it stowed away for the future. Freyja's nostrils flared as she took in a deep breath. Pronghorn had moved through here not long ago, but she wasn't keen to track them. They could feed a few hungry wolves, but since her encounter with the great and divine Varg her body required more substanance, that and her pack was bigger than just a few anyways.

Orbs glimmering in the few rays of sunlight that escaped past the trees, Freyja was keen to every movement about her. Since her meeting with the divine her eyesight was much better, as well as he hearing and and smell. But her eyesight, it was just incredable. Before most thing were a blur, or at least anything further than twenty or so feet before her was blurry, as it was with every wolf. Before her scent and hearing guided her everywhere, her eyes just used to enjoy the near by scenery. But now she could see much further distances before her eyesight became an issue. She could see her pack from over a horizon clearly, a far off rabbit with ease, sometimes she didn't even need to listen to find what she was looking for. Yes, eyesight was a true blessing, but eyesight this perfect was an unattainable gift, yet she had received it.

A silent prayer was given to Varg before she made her way, picking her feet up quietly through the forest. Here she felt calm, peaceful, even though most viewed it as a darker place to wander. Light had a hard time escaping past the thick foilage, and the small beams that did only gave it an eary glow. The sounds of birds and bleating pronghorn echoed ominously, but Freyja felt comfort in it. Maybe because many did not like coming here, and so she could find time to be alone, to wander the earth a restless soul if only for a few hours.

Freyja let out a calm sigh, her muscles relaxed, mind sharp. Her tail waft lazily over her back, a cloud hanging ove her it seemed. Her paws lightly brushed the ground as she walked forward, not caring to hide her scent or appearance. Yes she needed to hunt, but right now was not the optimal time, so being discreet was not exactly necessary.

ROK

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Dismal sunlight warmed Rok's withers but, the brute still found that deep within himself he still felt an unshakable chill. Had it always been there? He couldn't find a point in his memory where the feeling had not frosted the underside of his skin, so he assumed yes. Perhaps it was his blood, maybe his blood itself was as cold as the deepest winter snow. The brute let a strange snarl of a laugh escaped his parted maw and then let a relaxing shake wash from his crown to his tail before he turned his muzzle to the sky to examine the thick canopy of green above him. 

Something was wrong with him. Something was wrong with his mind, even he was aware of it. Of course he wasn't entirely sure that it was a bad thing, nor did he plan on doing anything about it. As far as he was concerned, he was extremely well off, and had made quiet the comfortable life for himself. Had he not been the way he was, he'd be dead. He was sure of it. 


He was pulled from his rather self centered thoughts when an unfamiliar scent burned at his nose. Or maybe it was familiar, but not in the sense that he knew what it was, in the way that subconsciously he knew he had smelled it before. His hackles bristled, and a very faint growl rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest. Sometimes the way his body reacted to things surprised him, like now, the brute was not angry... in fact... he felt nothing towards the strange scent. Stange, even to him, was that something wedged deep within him recoiled at it, bubbled and boiled in his chest, hated it. 

He heard no foot fall, which was almost enough to convince him that the phantom smell was just that, a ghostly fragment lingering long after its time had passed. He was almost convinced but, not quite. His uncertainty urged him forward deeper into the twisting shadows of the underbrush, his nose guiding him, his feet carrying him as softly as the light breeze that drifted through the twisting forest of trees. 

Even at the suns highest peak in the pale blue sky the thick leaves never let heat or light penetrate the density of the forest to make it look like anything more than dawn. At this point her eyes were adjusted, and even though her sight was newly incredible she still used her nose, her ears to sense her surroundings, warn her of anything that might be around. Food, water, air, enemy, friend. Nothing escaped the ears of a keen wolf. And a keen wolf she was.

Freyja heard light foot falls, faint growls. Her ears flickered toward the noise, but the rest of her staid in place. Her nose twitched, the scent of something familiar. She did not know this smell personally, but the musk, the chill, a slight tinge in what it emanated reminded her of the border scent between hers and the Misty Valley. Yes another Alpha was somewhere near by. Perhaps he smelled her two, was seeking her presence out. Or maybe just hunting for his pack, providing them with nourishment and life. Or it could be ulterior.

She herself was not out her solely to feed her pack, but also to think, find herself in a place so eerie as the Echoing Forests. She knew she was filled with greatness and the power of Varg, her veins flowing with love and empathy, but somewhere in the back of her mind, in places she never touched on, not even now, was the memory of tearing her brothers murderer to shreds, blood and gore covering her old packs den area. And that memory that she so avoided carried the evil that once consumed Freyja that she had worked many months in her life to forget and better herself, and eventually become the vessel for Varg.

Finally the lithe vixen turned to the cause of the sounds, and though he was not visible her senses said he was near by. Her golden orbs were vigilant and ears perked. Her white, downy soft fur lightly waving in the ominous breeze the forest produced. She let out a low growl, not hostile, but just to show that she existed, was present hear, as to not let this wolf startle at her presence in case he wasn't aware of her existence.

The inky brute's ears pricked at the faint sound of a growl. His crimson lined eyes drifted through the sea of green around him until he broke free from it into a more open section of trees. The sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling as he tore from the foliage sent a few birds scattering up into the cloud ridden sky, voicing their annoyance loudly as they few up and faded from view. Their departure left the forest filled with a silence that was almost menacing. 

Rok could see her now but, her form brought with it no recollection of memory, however, seeing her wrenched another growl from the pit of his chest and caused his hackles to bristle further. He took a step forward towards her, though it was not menacing, more inquisitive. He marveled for a moment at the pure white hue to her coat, he had never before seen a wolf with a coat that white. Somewhere deep in his chest tightened in disgust at the color, causing him to take a step back, so he was again half consumed by the foliage. 

The brute found his curiosity satisfied, and with that, had very little interest in the encounter now. Rok couldn't seem to think of anything to say, nor could he settle the unpleasant sensation that boiled under his skin enough to turn his back and walk away. The feeling was not fear, fear was something he had felt before... Perhaps it was hate, a deep born hatred that he himself could not explain. 

It was a natural hatred, like night and day and dark and light...

Freyja always wondered if wolves were intimidated by the fact that she was much larger than them. When Varg came to her she had not only been filled with his power but she looked like the female version of him, more lithe and feminine then Varg. She watched him react to her appearance, growls emanating from his throat. His brutish body was backed halfway into the emerald green foliage, hackles raised. She staid silent to his growls, his body language.

Her nose twitched, the emotion rolling off of him was great, hot and boiling, almost enraged. She was not sure why this wolf would feel any anger to her other than he was from another pack. Was he a follower of Fenrir? Did he enjoy hurting others? She wasn't sure. She never smelled violence from the pack border, but she could be mistaken. She always wanted to see a happier brighter side in everything, even obvious violence. So that was why she was disregarding his hostile behaviors.

"Hello dear cousin." Her voice was soft, velvet. An ominous calm to his behavior towards her. "I recognizer your scent. An alpha, correct?" She inquired. Her interest was not great, as she was almost sure, but she wanted to be sure. She could never risk being impolite.

Rok studied the other for quite a long time before he managed to compose himself in the slightest bit. His hackles lowered slightly and the growls faded back into his throat. He stood taller and pushed out his chest, showing his full height in an attempt to look more intimidating. He was taller than average, but the female was still quiet taller than he was. He shook his crown, trying to clear the bubbling anger from his head. 

"An alpha... Correct." he repeated then as an answer to her question. Most of the anger had fizzled now, pushed back beneath his mask of pleasantry once again. His voice was rough, much less pleasant than the female's. Another slight growl managed to work its way up his throat. Despite how good he was a recognizing emotion, conversation was not exactly his strong point. He was an alpha who lead by action over promise. 

He opened his mouth slightly then snapped it back shut. He was going to ask if she herself was an alpha, be decided against the obvious Inquisition. 

The vixen lowered her haunches, the grass soft and bouncy under her fur. Her muscles relaxed, composer perfect. She refused to show weakness, but she did want to show she was not a threat. She felt he was not a threat, at least at the moment, even though growls escaped his throat. She noticed he held back his tongue to ask her an obvious question. She knew it was polite to ask, but then again her position was obvious. Sometimes she hated that fact. That she looked so perfect, so divine. She missed her old scars, mottled fur, just being normal. But she was also grateful for her blessing, and she knew she needed to hold herself high, wear her power with honor, and fight for Varg in the up coming war. It was not an event soon to happen, but someday, maybe in a month or perhaps years from now, that she needed to prepare for daily.

Maybe she could start now. This wolf, an Alpha non the less, may be key to the future in the war. But possibly not in her favor. His unsuppressed growls unsettled her. But maybe she was over reacting. Before she became leader of Golden Sunlight she had isolated herself from all wolves, and only recently came to meet goodness and love. And maybe goodness was found behind masks.

"It is a pleasure to meet you... umm what is your name? I'm sorry for being rude. I am Freyja," her voice was powerful, the forest only amplifying its effect it brought even more. Her golden irises set on the black wolf, curious.

For a few long moments the brute was, again, lost in his own mind. Perplexed by himself more than anything. Her voice managed to pull him to the brink of attention. His name? His eyes glazed over with deep thought, was he even sure that his name was his own? Another rumble from his chest pulled him from his thoughts before he answered. "Rok." 

Then he waited, without interest, for the fay to continue the conversation. Despite his lack of interest, he really didn't have any thing else he'd rather be doing even if he were not here, so he cared very little about how long he had been there. Sound was again all around them, finally seeping back into the thick forest. He wasn't sure if he preferred it to the silence or not. If he had to choose, he would prefer the noise, if for no other reason than to cover his tracks. 

The brute managed to relax slightly, but visible tension still remained as slight tremors throughout his body.  He shifted down to sit on his haunches, his back still engulfed in the thick underbrush behind him.

The black wolf before her seemed a little less tense, muscles more relaxed, eyes not betraying as much. But she could see that her presence was disturbing him in some one. And she knew that it had nothing to do with her stature, her underlying power, the form she had been granted. No, she just thought this wolf was uncomfortable around any wolf that did not belong to his pack. And she understood that. "My name is Freyja, vessel of Varg."

Her voice in that moment was proud, the winds stirred slightly at the sound of her name. She realized how crucial this wolfs alliance was to her, and how she probably wouldn't get it, but she could try. But how she was unsure. Her golden orbs rested on him. She knew any direct questions might make him uneasy, un-trusting. But she never knew. Her judge of character was good, but not perfect. Maybe direct was the way to go. Or maybe Rok responded to subtle remarks, gaining his trust and loyalty first before asking for a pack to join her for the future wars she had foreseen.

Freyja internally sighed. Her wispy tail flicked. "It is my pleasure to meet you, Alpha," her voice a gentle murr.The sun was slowly heading down, though still it early evening, the leaves grew a new shade of emerald in the setting light, a light green bouncing off her fur from all the reflections, and a darker green from his. It was eerie, but she knew it was only light.

The black brute's skin crawled at the name and title. The pride behind her words made him internally cringe. On the outside, his mask remained un-cracked, though a growl managed to seep from his barely parted maw yet again. His withers were cooler now, the sun's warming rays had slipped away, casting only dark shadows over him as the final hours of day continue to decay.  He felt at home in the cool shade of the foliage. The wind shifted his inky black fur in a way that made it look like bands of black smoke twisting towards the heavens. A shudder traveled along his spine and faded outward along his limbs, like a ripple in water. 

Somewhere above them, in the thick green canopy, a crow squalled its obnoxious song. Crimson lined orbs settled against the fay's golden ones in an almost challenging way. He could read her just like he could read any other wolf. She was not afraid, though there was never a point where he would have assumed that she should be. Her eyes held a reserve of falseness somewhere so deep within them, that he himself could but barely scratch the surface of it. She was barely, if not just as, uninterested in the conversation as he was. He assumed that she was only sticking around to gain trust, or as not to be rude, though he would assume that by now she would have picked up on the fact that he really couldn't care less. 

The quiet was unsettling. This wolf, Rok, obviously had no interest in her but to show he was not afraid, and that he was also cautious of her. She felt she understood now. They couldn't be friends. Maybe they won't be enemies. She cold see this wolf was reserved, and she understood yet again. She remembered her past, when she traveled the world alone, staying away from any other wolf. Cutting off all contact with any soul who cared to know her. And now here she was. An Alpha of a great pack, a vessel to a god, a newly found socialite, trying to befriend this strange wolf.

She stood at the sound of the crow, nose twitching. "Well Rok, I can see you are a wolf of few words," she turned her bodice slightly. Her tail flicked at Rok, a silent invitation to hunt with her. She knew now she could not befriend him, not easily, but she didn't feel it awkward to invite the ebon brute on a hunt with her. Besides, the smell of pronghorn was very strong near by, and she was very hungry.

The ebony brute found himself all to willing to hunt with the fay, though he couldn't stand talking to her, another part of himself that he couldn't understand. They would never be friends, in fact, Rok was repelled by her as if they were like side of a magnet. In the end, they may even be enemies, if it all came down to it. However, Rok was never one to turn down a meal. He learned in his loner days that you eat every chance you get, with whoever you have to, or you die. 

The male followed her, but kept a rather wide birth between himself and the fay. He, himself, had not eaten recently. His pack, however, was well fed. He had no reason to feel guilty for hunting and eating without them, not that he would have even if they were hungry. 

Gliding through deep green fronds and over prickly rose brush, Freyja's nose twitched as the soft breeze mingled through her nose. Sharpened golden irises bounced back and forth as her head lowered, shoulders brought close into a crouch. Her white fur was always a dead give away if she did not play this game carefully, so when she spotted a herd of pronghorn she waved her tail for Rok to go on the other side of them. If he could scare one her way she could take it down easy.

With ease and grace she slid into a bush, scoping out the potential meal. Four bucks and two does, along with a baby. One buck was obviously older, but not to the point of being a tough piece of meat to chew on. The rest were fairly young, and the baby was female, and she knew that too much destruction of the female population in any prey species meant starvation for her pack. Now she could only hope that the older male would spook towards her.