Elias never considered himself anything more than what he really was. Unfortunately, what he really was wasn’t anything short of twisted and weirdly eccentric. He was a maladjusted, maligned creature disguised in the guise of a noble crusader with a fluffy black and grey tinged white pelt. But like all things, it was just a perception that was flexible given the circumstances. He was, for all intents and purposes, a killer. There was nothing noble about being a killer. But unless there was a purpose, his hit list only limited to prey and didn’t extend to other wolves. At least, not willfully. If he so happened to intend for something of that nature to happen to other wolves it would probably come in the form of something else other than his claws and fangs. His duties were comprised mainly of providing prey for the pack so that was what he would do. He had replenished the kill-pile with a few rabbits that he had killed near the forest along with a deer. His legs pushed him forwards, strong muscles working in one smooth rhythm. His expression, sculpted into a handsome white and slightly grey-furred face, was delightfully cool and unflinchingly emotionless. He could’ve been a statue if he hadn’t been moving. Once, he paused gaze straying upwards to the jutting ledge 15 feet above him as he heard the crunch of heavy paws on snow. There had been nothing there though but he had caught the scent of a mountain lion. Watching it and seeing no more movement he continued onwards.  The hunter never assumed that he knew anything beyond the experiences and knowledge that he’d managed to accumulate over the years of his life. And the creature above him had no relation to what he had set out early in the morning to do. What he wanted to do was find other areas for hunting. Too many wolves in one place would eventually turn out to be trouble. So the best tactic to his inclination, was to spread out and find pockets of prey that were hiding in the mountains should they need more food for the growing numbers of the pack.    

He perused the wide expense of rock-ridden terrain before him, searching for other places to hunt. Not another soul in sight or even a single evening predator. Just him and the sprawling mountains that eclipsed his ghostly form. It was too easy to disappear here. He was length and height-wise, long and tall, with packed, dense muscle that was toned and lean. He was nothing but an ant in the shadow of the jagged mountains with their gargantuan peaks that almost touched the heavens. The little gaps in between the ridges could have swallowed him whole and no one would know. But Elias could have spent his entire remaining life in this area. So suited he was for the ice and snow and the perpetual loneliness that hounded this place. Solitude may have suited him more than he initially realized, now that he was tasked with some kind of responsibilities. He found he didn’t particularly desire the company of others. Or perhaps he had been a lone wolf for too long and so, had grown too accustomed to his own thoughts. Now he had a pack so carrying out duties and of course, meeting others, were unavoidable and necessary. But the wiry, amber-eyed wolf was in the same vein as a knight in the end, just not the kind that bled with righteous justice and honour. Instead, he thrived in violence and if he did protect and save, it was only because it was a waste of a fit, able wolf to perish. It was better to save a life, not assist in extinguishing it.

Steeper and steeper, the terrain grew. His head bent down slowly, soulless eyes peering ahead of him. There were thin clusters of snow dotting the earth. At this level, he could already feel the wind nipping at his skin, chilly fingers prying past his thick coat until it managed to tickle the epidermis. If he ever found the need to trek upwards he wasn’t sure how long he would survive at such high altitudes. There was frostbite to contend with and the winds. His pelt protected him but at sub-zero temperatures for an extraordinarily prolonged period of time? He had never stayed long enough in an area like that to see what would happen. But based on past experiences in similar situations he’d assume he would last at least as long as an average wolf. Maybe a little longer if he curled into a foetus. Elias paused as his ears picked up something else. It was the sound of paws shuffling through snow. He stilled, listening carefully. Too gentle to be a large predator. Too strong to be something smaller such as a goat. Not the sound of hooves or the heavy, lumbering gait of a bear or the precise, swift motion of a puma. Which left the option of another wolf such as himself or an Arctic Fox.

He brought his nose to the ground, sniffing for any trace of the scent of a fellow pack-mate. And he did. At the same time, the wolf’s scent reached his nose and he mentally filed it away into the recesses of his memory. It was beneficial to know the scents of his pack-mates. A hunter couldn’t mistake a fellow pack-mate for prey and besides that, it could have further uses if for any reason in the future he wanted to track him down. Black-trimmed ears twitched, hearing the wolf make his way towards him. Grey-striped muzzle lifted in formal greeting. His expression remained as it was, resembling the tundra he was traversing. Cold, fathomless and coolly indifferent. His amber eyes, bled dry of their vibrancy, watched him come. Elias wasn’t fussed if the other joined him or not. It was entirely left up to the other male’s own wishes. Seeing him slow down as he reached him, the hunter’s tail stayed where it was. He wasn’t sure of the other’s rank but he was sure he held a rank that was equal to his since he wasn’t displaying any signs of outward dominance that was typical of a Beta or Delta. When the other bowed his head to him with a slight smile, Elias gazed at him blankly. He wasn’t surprised. He literally couldn’t feel anything. But he supposed objectively it was a good thing. So his muzzle sank down in kind to the other’s gesture of respect and he said,“Well then, would you care to tell me who you are? We’re both Erenyx wolves.”

As he waited, he spied another making his way towards them. He was visibly tense for reasons that Elias could only pin down to apprehension and wariness with two strangers. A Caretaker or Healer perhaps? He didn’t seem to have the confidence of a hunter or warrior though he had the build of either one. When he greeted them with a graceful bow, Elias gave him the same stare. Empty and hollow. The whitish-silver wolf had never been bowed to like this before. It wasn’t necessary but each to one’s own. He didn’t care either way. “Afternoon,” Elias replied, inclining his head in respect to him. “No. You might be helping in fact.”

Posting Order
Hunter Elias
Warrior Nashoba
Caretaker Omen

Nashoba. Elias committed the name to memory. It was a name he hadn’t encountered before. A warrior he was but he seemed slightly nervous. It was probably because of Elias’ overall demeanor combined with his appearance. His eyes were haunting, eerie and his expression, though embedded in features that were refined and handsome, was always blank and emotionless. Nothing could get in and nothing would get out. Not a flicker of emotion. It was unfortunately, what he had become. If that was what the warrior was perturbed about he would need to overcome that on his own. He introduced himself in return in a deep, wintry voice, “Elias. I hunt.” That too, had become natural. His tone and inflection was always precise and on point, clear. His eyes strayed past him to the other male that had joined them. He was strong with fairly built body. He was big with roughly the same as his height though with more muscle than he. A warrior? Or a fellow hunter? No, a Caretaker by the name of Omen. Elias watched him with piercing eyes as he continued to speak, a gaze that revealed nothing of his thoughts. Not even when the brown wolf’s attention was noticeably grabbed by something else. One of his ears twitched so one could assume he’d heard the hare. Elias turned his head, his tail lifting upwards slightly. As Omen continued, speaking of a wolf by the name of Chiara, explaining his reasons for approaching them and his apology Elias spotted the clump of snow next to a tiny hole at the base of the mountain at the pass.

“Follow me and stay very still,” He spoke in a low voice to the Caretaker, Omen. They weren’t hunters but they had a pair of eyes and ears that could help. And wolves were natural hunters in any case. It would do no harm to have them join him if they were so inclined to do so. They weren’t unwelcome as long as they didn’t disturb him. Rank was irrelevant in these circumstances. He paused, glancing at Nashoba and said, “If you want to you can help by going the opposite direction of us to chase the hare and frighten it. But don’t kill it.” He headed for the base of the pass near the hole. His eyes were searching for the rabbit and any signs of a trail that it’d made upon arriving here from its burrow. Clumps of snow that were in some kind of formation was one. Another were prints or scuff marks in the snow that went in some kind of a line. His soulless gaze was merciless, keen eyes penetrating the surroundings for their elusive prey.

The hunter quickened his pace silently, tail streaming out behind his flank perpendicular to his torso. And there it was, a trail of shoddy but recognizable rabbit tracks imprinted in the snow. Nashoba was quick to catch the hare when it showed itself and jumped at it immediately, making it dart towards him and Omen. It faltered, shooting a nervous glance back at the warrior when he stopped chasing it. When Nashoba startled it again Omen growled at it, driving it back towards Elias. About to snatch it up in his jaws, he paused as an idea came to him. If they managed to scare the hare into following the trail it’d made they may be able to find the burrow. It would probably divert its path by going left or right but overall it would give some lead-in to where the burrows were. So he snapped at it, fangs just a fur’s brush away from its face just to make sure it would be terrified enough to want to go back to its home instead of going elsewhere. That way, if it did run somewhere else they would be able to follow the tracks. If his two companions desired. Nashoba seemed happy. He was smiling, having fun. Hunting could be fun for some wolves, a game of skill and wit. It also helped to train the reflexes and body and things were usually better when you were having fun. There was no reason not to think of it that way so Elias didn’t mind, as long as the burrow was found. He watched the hare do a 180 degree turn, snow flying through the air in its wake and darted past Nashoba in the opposite direction down the trail of tracks. His attention didn’t wander and he spoke again, this time to Omen in response to his words, “No apologies needed. If this is not what you’re seeking then I will not force you to stay if you’re uncomfortable. But the hare most probably has burrows at the base of the mountain or further down. If you wish to follow then come with me and follow the tracks to find the burrow. The altitude will be much kinder to you and we can...” He paused, preparing to run as the rabbit grew into a dot in the distance. “Socialize. If not, then we part ways here my friend.”

Elias would consider all his pack-mates his friends, by nature. Though he wasn’t one that craved company he understood the intention behind the other male’s words. If it was a friend he was seeking then there was no objective or subjective reason not to extend his paw. Peace perhaps, was what the amber-eyed hunter could offer him, a mutual understanding of the need for some silence. The hare was almost gone. To Nashoba he said,“Come if you wish.” With that, he ran, springing into action in a single smooth motion. The wind swept past his thick fur, twisting it and teasing it. The hare, as he had predicted, had veered off-course nowhere to be seen. It was a smart creature and it probably had multiple pathways back to its home. It would’ve used a pathway that it hadn’t used getting up here to misguide and confuse them. But Elias saw the trail of tiny rabbit feet. The trail wasn’t entirely straight and a little bit jagged with the snow starting to thin out the closer he reached the bottom. The prints were starting to wither but that was alright. There was still a trail.