behind me... [Acceptance]

[synclair]

<sub>The young black wolf made his way towards the stream, his coat stark against the bright, white snow, pale blue eyes glittering with some unknown emotion. Most probably madness, if his mother and brother were anything to go by.

He smelled not of wolf, but of the rich, musky scent of a full-grown stag. He was no small pup, but his sides were thin and suggested hardship. Every so often he would stagger, struggling with some problem that was not externally obvious.

Synclair reached the stream, beyond which, he knew, there was a wolf pack. Arnlan, according to the squirrels he had conversed with last spring. He lifted his head to sniff the wind. Yes, this was the place. With hesitation, he stepped into the bitterly cold water and forced himself forwards. Several paces in he stopped, water licking up his legs, and glanced around with hunger rumbling in his gut.

Behind him, on the bank, there was a stag as white as the snow and two other wolves, one of whom was snarling at thin air. He was pale cream. The other was grey and wore spectacles, resting between the front hooves of the stag in a way that defied reality, as though he felt perfectly safe with the large and potentially deadly animal standing over him.

The stag grunted in encouragement. Synclair began walking again, heading straight into unknown territory.

If he didn't, surely he would die.

He paused again about fifty yards in. He hadn't yet been intercepted. So no one knew he was there yet. There was only one thing for it. To announce himself. He opened his mouth and sang.

Behind him his family waited anxiously. They hoped he wouldn't be killed. Synclair sat down to wait.</sub>

[Sofika]

With a curious posture, Sofika stodd watching the wolf approach the stream, beckoned on by two others and a stag. A white stag. How strange. What was more surprising was that it was not being attacked by this group of wolves. Instead it appeared to stand as one with them. Lifting her head she listened to his call and then quickly dived into the foliage to greet him.

Her movements were silent, deadly. Without a sound she slinked through the shadows, edging to the wolf. Infront of him she appeated, her neon spots of blue lighting her face a little. She was a safe distance from him and an even safer one from the three behind him. In a low, ghostly voice Sofika spoke to him, curious, wondering why he seemed so anxious.

" You there, why do you call to my pack? Introduce yourself and those behind you. "

[synclair]

<sub>Synclair, who had only just settled himself down, gave an undignified jump in surprise, yelped, and stumbled to his feet. He backed away fast, flinching as though she were about to hit him despite the fact that she was a reasonable distance away. He lowered his head and raised his hackles involuntarily, adopting a defensive stance.

" You there, why do you call to my pack? Introduce yourself and those behind you. "

He paused a moment to compose himself and think of a reply.

"I am Synclair, The Darker Brother," he said hurriedly, "behind me are Nicholas, The Twin Who Is Sound, and Michael, The Twin Who Is Mad, my brothers. My mother was The Wolf That Was Trod On By A Horse, but she's dead. The stag is Atrys, The White Stag That Was Shot."

He was, of course, using the titles that the deer in their area had bestowed upon them. They had no others. But he had no idea how far their names had passed, deer being very social creatures, and whether they would mean anything to the wolf in front of him, seeing that he didn't know if she understood Deer or not. He said them anyway, though, because they were true as far as he could see.

"We belong to no pack but our family group," he carried on quickly, fearing the other wolf's impatience even though she were smaller than he, "and there are no small animals to hunt anymore, they got eaten by the Wolves Of The Bad Place. I can't kill deer alone. They're too big and, well, fast. We're all hungry, and the Wolves Of The Bad Place threaten us. So I am looking, on behalf of my brothers, for a place in Arnlan... This is Arnlan territory, is it not?"</sub>
[/color]

[Sofika]

The wolfs jump and yelp followed by a defensive stance was one Sofika had seen often. No doubt due to her sudden appearance and her unstalled questions. She smirked a little but it was probably unnoticeable because she was faded to much into the darkness. Her eyes, they were hidden by the fur over them, but they glanced from the wolf, to those behind him.

Queitly she listened to the wolf as he spoke. Titles came with the names of this family group as he referred to them as. Of course, as he suspected, they did not mean anything to Sofika, or to Arnlan. Perhaps were he had come from yes, but they were invalid here, however she did ponder their origin, why they were titled as they were.

She nodded to confirm that this territory was Arnlan. At the same time she raised her head up higher and moved out from the shadows a little so he may see a better picture of her. He recognised the territory but would he recognise the status she held in her posture?

" To me what use would you be if you cannot kill a single deer on your own? " This was her first question, spoken in a very serious tone. Hunting appeared a weakness in him but she would not rule out his potential abilities yet for she had only just began to observe him. Perhaps he possessed a greater skill that he wished to share with her?

[synclair]

<sub>She seemed to have missed the point entirely. He sat down heavily, dropped the defensive stance and adopted one of tiredness and resignation instead. Perhaps he had forgotten to state his intentions.

"I would be perfectly content," he said, "to simply turn around and eat fieldmice for the rest of my life, until the Wolves Of The Bad place come and kill Atrys and I. I freely admit that I am not a fast runner and that I've little or no experience hunting big game, although I can coax rabbits out of their holes.

"No, I am here on behalf of my brothers, at least Nicholas if not Michael. I come because they know little Wolf, they speak Deer. Our mother was killed when they were still very young, you see, and Atrys is their parent now. Nicholas is a fast runner, he is young, he is healthy. He can call deer, the female ones, to him during rut and imitate a lost fawn in other seasons. He can fare his own in fight, I've seen him. The only thing he does not know is wolf etiquette, and what he does not know, he can be taught."

Synclair sighed, but continued anyway. He was going to tell the truth or nothing at all, and if this wolf didn't accept it they could turn around and die together.

"Michael is mad. Our mother was mad. She taught us nothing but fear of things that are not there. He has almost no desirable qualities . He cannot hunt, he knows no subtlety. But he can fight and kill in madness in a way those sane would never think of."

Synclair got to his feet again and looked at her imploringly. "I do not seek a place for Atrys or myself, and maybe not even Michael. Atrys is good for nothing but being eaten, and even then I cannot bring myself to kill him because he's family. But please, take Nicholas."</sub>

[Sofika]

This wolf spoke of wolves who, from what he was saying, were basically hunting this family of wolves, one of them at least if not all. This put doubt immediantly into the Alphas head about allowing them into her territory. Would those seeking them out attack Arnlan just to get to them? Depending on their reasons for hunting them out, they might do just that.

Sofika liked the sound of Nicholas. He seemed like a strong wolf, who'd have something to give back for being a member of Arnlan. Synclair however, did not come across at all useful. Her head turned a little so that her maw was pointing to Nicholas. She watched him as Synclair continued. She had decided to let him tell her all that he had to and that she would not interrupt him.

Lifting her head slightly she watched Michael. Mad was he? Killing in an insane way... well definently not in her pack. If he was mad he wasn't even going to get a sniff of Arnlan scent. No, he could be dangerous to the other members. No one can really tell what's going through a mad wolves mind.

" Nicholas. " The black wolf finally spoke. " You would like me to take in Nicholas. " Cocking her head to the side a little, she walked past Synclair but looked at him to acknowledge all that he had said. " What you say is interesting Syncliar, " she noted as she came before Nicholas. Her distance was from the stag. They were dangerous creatures and she wasn't going to take a chance on being stomped by it.

" Your white stag would have no chance in these lands. He would be considered game and undoubtedly killed. He is important to you three I can see that. So for his protection I cannot allow him inside my border. "

" Indeed, Nicholas can be taught the tongue of wolf. He is the only one of you I will accept. Know this however, if you pass him under my wing, you may never see each other again. If he joins us, I do not want you loitering Arnlan borders to speak to him. "[/color

[synclair]

Synclair sighed, and got back to his feet, turning to face his family who waited on the other side of the river. He watched Michael's anxious pacing, his body constantly in motion, driven by an unknown, untameable and unpredictable urge to move. Atrys stood proud, barely moving, and Nicholas waited at the stag's feet, his tongue lolling and his ears pricked forward, waiting for Synclair to voice the predetermined signal that it was okay for him to come inside the border.

He glanced at Sofika, and said softly, "I thought as much. Tell me this, though. If Michael and Atrys die, if I learn to hunt deer alone, and to fight and kill in the right manner, might I be able to return and ask for acceptance for myself, sometime in the future?"

"You won't attack me." It wasn't a request. It was a statement. An odd statement at that. "I need a decision from you. If you say that I may return in the indefinite future having learned to hunt deer, then I will call for Nick although in another language. Michael and Atrys will not move from that side of the border, I will not be calling for them to attack you. If you say that I may not come back for another attempt at acceptance, we will all leave and approach another pack. The only time you will see us again is during war. Now, may I return?"

He paused a moment.

"Although we shan't approch the Wolves Of The Bad Place unless we abolutely must. We know where they are, but we don't like Sallin," he added as an afterthought.

EDITZ: For the sake of read-ability, I have changed stuff.

[Sofika]

[ Very sorry, computer problems kept me offline for a while. ]

Sofika was thinking hard and well of the words just spoken. Perhaps she left the anxious wolf on the edge of his seat as she sat in eery silence, contemplating. Synclair's statement had her taken aback and that had been obvious by her nose wrinkling in to a silent snort. However what had really caught her attention was his reference to Sallin or, The Wolves of the Bad Place.

She had to take her time on this matter. Synclair had just expressed that, if turned away, he would see her in war. What war? Where had such an idea risen from? Perhaps his encounter with The Wolves of the Bad Place had led him into believing that one was brewing? She had to know more before she could consider any longer, exactly what angle he was coming from.

" Synclair, you say that we would meet again in war if I turned you around? That is curious, very curious... " her voice trailed into a quieter, more serious tone. " From what information have you concluded such an assumption - that there is to be a war? " The black female kept a steady gaze on Michael, who seemed so tense that is was making her increasingly suspicious.

If it was from Sallin that Synclair drew his conclusion, what exactly was that wretched Nightshade planning? Had she unwillingly expressed an idea of striking Arnlan within the groups earshot? And what was her motive, if any? There was no suspicions for now, that these four had led the pack of Sallin to her border. For one Sallin knew where Arnlan lay and also, she'd have sensed an approach.

[synclair]

ooc: It's all good. Health problems have kept me off recently anyway.

ic: <sub>Synclair looked at her and cocked his head curiously. Why was she so interested in war? Was it not obvious that the world was unstable? He turned from his family - they could wait. Suddenly, this seemed a whole lot more important. He had her attention now.

"The squirrels say there will be war. They say that there are problems between the Wolves of the Bad Place and the Dogs Formerly of the Bad Place and that it will affect all the animals near. You can't always believe the squirrels, but Atrys says that the deer are uneasy and the ravens are excited. If I leave I will either starve to death or be killed unless I find a pack elsewhere. There is no other way about it. Michael and Atrys are doomed, surely, no matter what happens. A mad wolf and a lame stag. I don't know about full-scale pack wars, but I know that there are bound to be territory skirmishes."

He sighed, "all I am saying is that the only chance of us meeting again if you refuse my request to reask for acceptance into this pack, would be in the circumstance of war, unless I die. Whatever gloom you're concerned about it no business of mine."

He sat down and scratched behind his ear without much dignity, all the while keeping a close eye on the female wolf before him.</sub>

[Sofika]

War between Synl and Sallin did not come as a surprise to the black wolf. Her first assumption had been that Sallin were to plan an attack on Arnlan, however she concluded now that there was nothing to worry about. For many, many years the pack has stood in the region untouched, isolated- no one daring to intrude upon the lands. Nightshade had once attempted however had failed and left, never to come back.

" Synclair, rest assued that we will not be effected by any wars that have nothing to do with us. If I decline your request to come back, most likely we will never meet again. However with that said, I don't believe I can let you go now. "

Flicking her ears, Sofika looked again to those behind Synclair. Lame stag... mad wolf... They aren't too survive. Then Sofika had a thought. Teaching a wolf to speak was no doubt alot harder than teaching the art of hunting. Realising how unfair she had initially been, she decided that Synclair was to get a chance to learn, like Nicholas was to speak.

" Nicholas may approach me now and enter Arnlan. You Synclair may join with him. I've thought it over. I have decided that I will give you the opportunity to learn the art of hunting. You deserve a fair chance. "

Would Synclair accept this rather generous offer made by Sofika and join along with Nicholas? Or would he go off with the two who face most certain death? She raised a curious brow however this wasn't to be seen because of her wild hair covering her face.

[synclair]

_{" Synclair, rest assured that we will not be effected by any wars that have nothing to do with us. If I decline your request to come back, most likely we will never meet again. However with that said, I don't believe I can let you go now. "}[/color]

"What about disruption of the order of animals and herd migration in the event of fullscale war?" he asked at once. He immediately apologised. "Sorry, I suppose in that event longer range hunting groups would be sent out -- not too great a change. Forget I doubted Arnlan's ability to cope with such a thing."

Oh, oh, Synclair thought, she can't let me go? Does that mean...? He didn't know whether to be ecstatic or heartbroken, and decided on an intermediate -- solemn but collected. He listened to her next words with pricked ears, but his gaze lowered to the ground.

"Very well," he said carefully, "if you're inviting me, I'll gladly join Arnlan. It would be the greatest honour, and I promise, I'll follow any instructions given to me whenever." He nodded resolutely and got to his feet, turning to look Nicholas in the eye. He grunted, much like Atrys did, and Nicholas leapt to his feet and launched himself down the bank and through the creek, pausing only to skirt around the unknown wolf and take his place at Synclair's side.

Synclair turned to look at Atrys, and the stag returned his stare, then nodded his enormous antlered head and left out a soft, low whine that turned into an eery yipping bugle that echoed between the trees. In farewell, Synclair returned to call and watched as the magnificent, limping white stag and strangely diminutive white wolf turn and leave.

Synclair turned back to Sofika. "We are yours now, forever," he whispered.[/color][/sub]

[synclair]

ooc: bump, lest this thread fall from the page and be forgotten

[smartie]

[ I thought we could have finished it off here... I thought those last words would be a nice way to finish to the acceptance thread, is that ok? ]

[synclair]

ooc: alright then