Thoroughly Bored

[Rokk]

An autumn breeze blew through the quiet lands of Deor, scattering the fallen leaves, and stealing more red and gold flakes from the branches of the sleepy trees and sending them flying through the air. the wind had a biting chill to it, and the sky was a pale blue. the world was bracing itself for winter's bitter grip.

but still one pup found these quiet packlands dull. Rokk found himself longing for some thrill, he glanced back to his hindleg. no, not that kind of thrill. she shivered as he recalled being kidnapped by the Balkar. their hungry eyes, their putrid breath. they had talked of killing him, and then the sikla Lufian had come, the one whom he had teased and insulted. she had been discovered, but as the males toyed with ideas of how exactly to torture and disembowel the two Deor vargs, Lufian had grabbed him by the scruff and ran away on her extraoridinaryly long legs.

Rokk's upper lip twitched. he had been taught to hate siklas. yet one had saved his life. but the little bully was not bored enough to dwell on that any more than he needed to.

a red patterened leaf fell down from the sky and landed on his light brown eyes. he snorted and snapped his hand back. instantaneously trapping the leaf under his paw. yet he considered himself too odl to play with such trivial things. he snapped at the frustrating thing. then his entire body stiffened as he noted the scent of another approaching. Rokk had half a mind to retreat back somewhere else. surely it was not another elder here to chide him for his actions, thoughts and insults?

[Chalos Autumn]

The male who stepped forward through the brush was, of course, the enormous Dragga of the Deor. He had been waiting for this moment.. A chance to speak with Rokk in private. Though the small varg had given off a look of mischief, the alpha had not yet seen him cause trouble.. Though he scented the faint, horrid smell of Balkar on his fur. As he neared Rokk, Chalos's lips curled into a snarl of distaste - what had the younger male been doing wandering the lands of the Balkar? There was but one word that came to his mind; traitor.

"Rokk." He boomed, "What in Zostar's name were you doing in the Balkar territories?" The black-and-rust Dragga tried to keep himself calm, though the possibility that there might be a Night-Hunter spy within his lands was simply unnerving. He hadn't seen Lufian yet since she'd first arrived, but if he were to catch the scent of the Balkar on her, too.. He wasn't sure what he would do - Two Balkar spies within his packlands, he could not tolerate; they would both die by his teeth, for he would not allow the two to return to their 'homeland'. However, Chalos did not know any better, as nobody had informed him (as they should have) of the couple's journey into enemy territory.

"I've been wanting to talk to you about your position here, Rokk, but I shan't speak of such things until I know what you were doing behind Balkar lands. If I find out you are a spy sent from them, I shall not hesitate to kill you. In front of the entire pack, so that all can see you. Speak up."

[Rokk]

Rokk turned his head and he froze, great, it was the Dragga. for a split second he just lay there staring up at his Dragga before he remembered his place and inclined his head, but the motion was stiff and awkward. Rokk just wasnt in the best of moods for submission and obidience. yet as he noticed the snarl upon his Dragga's lips he heard warning bells inside his head. Chalos was definately not a good enemy to have. hurriedly he stood up, wincing ever so slightly at the twinge of pain shooting up from his back leg. it had definately never been the same since his encounter with the vargs that styled themselves as the First Amongst the Putnar. and the young pup feared it would never be the same again.

Rokk felt his blood turn cold as Chalos mentioned the Balkar territories. anger flickered into his gaze and he growled ever so slightly. had Lufian told him what had happened? he definately did not want his Dragga to know of this. it showed him as being weaker than he wnated to admit, having to have a sikla save him. Rokk winced, that was a bad blow to his overgrown pride.
'what has that sikla been saying?' he growled. 'has she been mouthing off to everyone?'

then as Chalos continued Rokk felt his lower jaw unhinge and his mouth hang open. surely Chalos did not think that he, Rokk, would spy for that pack?! the idea was absurd. ever since he had grown up Rokk had vowed that he would get revenge against at least one Balkar for what they had done to his former pack. and now the Dragga of his new pack suspected him of spying for them? the idea made him more angry than he was afraid of the threat of death.

'i am no spy!' he flared up, 'especially for that dispicable pack of mongrels. yes, i was there, but not out of choice. but no, no one in this pack likes me enough to ask me how i injured my leg have they?' he carefulyl kept the touch of hurt out of his voice at mentioning that, Rokk knew full well that he was not very popular at all. in fact his whole life had gone downhill because of the Balkar, and now he was in danger of death because the Dragga of his new home thought he was one of them? 'the very idea that you would think i would join them makes me feel sick!' he growled, unwanted images of the time that he had been surrounded by them, in the centre of their territory involuntarily flashed through his mind and he suppressed a shudder. no, he would never show weakness in front of his Dragga. yet speaking like he was in front of them was surely a stupid thing to do.[/b]

[Chalos Autumn]

Despite his burning anger for the pup before him, Chalos couldn't keep himself from allowing a gentle smile to twitch at the side of his maw. "Oh, so you were simply strolling along? And don't be calling Lufian Sikla when you are also within her ranks." He smirked, for he could keep this demeaning, accusing talk for hours on end.. if he were his bear of a brother. The strangely-coloured Dragga gave a small shrug of his broad shoulders before he began to walk, signaling Rokk, with a toss of his black, rust-striped head, to follow.

It had been quite a while since the Deor alpha had wandered away from his area in the den, far back where none but he was allowed to wander. Though he claimed he was busy, he certainly had not been - he had been dwelling in his past, in the nightmares that arose from dreams of his wicked sibling, of his murdered parents, killed at the hands of Nocturnia, burned in a fire controlled by humans, so terribly hot that their skeletons shrank and eventually turned to ash. No wolf on the face of the earth knew what he had been through, yet somehow everyone seemed to know what Nocturnia had been through.. Chalos desperately wished that someone, anyone would listen to his side of the hellish story, to what he had gone through, what he had sufferered and endured. Perhaps, then, Rokk was his chance. The small male had a chance of learning his Dragga's past, an honour in any pack (other than Balkar and Sarnes, of course).

"Come, then, little Sikla, I've been waiting for a chance to get you alone without that pretty little she-varg or the nurse following you around. Besides, working that leg of yours will do it good." His steps were slow and short, for he was trying to give the much smaller male room to walk. "I'd pick you up if I wasn't too afraid to drop you on your head, pup." Now he was idly talking, casually conversing with himself - he seemed to do it quite a bit these days. "Oh, by the way, pup, we're going to the den." Chalos, being the nosy Dragga that he was, wanted to know this varg, to learn more about him, and perhaps more about Lufian as well. He had the right to know about his packmembers, but he also knew that his pack did not have to talk if they did not wish to.. Although Rokk didn't know this.

[Rokk]

Rokk's lips twitched and he struggled with the insane desire to growl at Chalos. it took all of his self control not to say anything stupid. Lufian was a sikla, she could not possibly be called anything other, and he? well he was pup, a youngster, but he was far from a sikla! it outraged him that his Dragga viewed him as such. 'i am no sikla!' he spat defiantly. now deciding he would show his Dragga at some point in the future that he certainly was no sikla, he was a fighter, not a cowardly runt.

as Chalos began to walk Rokk followed, making sure he kept one step behind, and he carefully masked the pain he felt form his expression. he flat-out refused to limp, no matter how much his leg hurt, he would not show weakness like a mere sikla.
he scowled up at Chalos as he commented on working his leg. was the pain shooting up it part of the healing process? he thought, or did he simply mean that enduring it would teach him to be stronger and more worthy in the long run? Rokk pushed aside both theories and concentrated on walking. glad that his muddle of thoughts had meant that he had overlooked the name Little Sikla. for then he might have said something very very stupid.

'why the den? its not that interesting...' Rokk said through gritted teeth. in truth, he found the packlands rather dull, he was always one for looking for a new adrenaline rush, something new to occupy his narrow mind. and he had explored all of Deor and found himself wishing for something new. all the other packmembers were keeping a close eye on him, and it was all extremely suffocating. 'and.. why me alone?' he added suddenly, thinking back to Chalos' earlier comment. what could the Dragga want with him alone that couldnt be said in front of others? were they finally sick of him and wanted him out before he caused any serious trouble? Rokk gulped. without the protection of a pack, it would make it a whole lot easier for the Balkar to find him in the kerl territories. they sure would not have appreciated his and Lufian's escape.

[Chalos Autumn]

The corners of his maw pulled back, and Chalos gave another little smile. He knew it was hard for Rokk to have the entire pack watching his every move, but the Dragga had his reasons for behaving the way he did. Live was always a test to Chalos, though now it was Rokk who would undergo his own test – the challenge of trust.

“The den, Rokk, is a place where tales are woven, where wonders are bred. I’m sure you’ve never even been allowed into the very back – my domain. Come, little Sikla, and we shall talk.” Just like his brother, the Deor alpha’s voice was of a low tenor tone, though unlike his vicious older sibling, his throat housed a comforting, gentle way of speaking. It wouldn’t be long until they would reach the den, so the rather gigantic Dragga quickened his pace, falling into an elegant trot. His winter coat was starting to thicken around his body, and his nearly two-inch-longer fur bounced about upon him like blades of grass groomed by a comforting summer breeze.

Eventually, the rust-and-ebony varg sighted their approach to the glorious Deor den, and, although it wasn’t much on the outside, he gave a strong howl, signaling his arrival should others be found lying within. “Right, then, here we are. I’m not carrying you inside, you’ll have to crawl in yourself. Come on, come on, I can’t assign you to a rank if you don’t prove yourself.” It was quite obvious that the oversized male was in a hurry – it would only be a matter of time before Rokk’s packmates would realise his absence.

A friendly shove of the rump would be given to urge Rokk on, and the young, full-of-life Dragga’s muscled hinds rippled powerfully beneath his lengthened fur as he thrust his form into the air, body stretching over Rokk as he leapt over the Silka’s head and body. Again, his body curled, hindlegs pulled up underneath him, though this time the youthful Deor alpha took off, galloping only a few lengthy strides before he pounced into the pack den, immediately heading for the back of the quite solid cave. If Rokk decided to open up, to share himself with his leader, Chalos was saving an honourable warrior’s position for him – he would have a chance to avenge the Balkar who had so savagely wounded him, and to put his headstrong ways to use. It would be soon that Deor would begin collecting fighters, as Chalos was willing to wander out of his own packlands in order to make sure the Night Hunters stayed in their place – at the bottom of the chain of packs, with Sarnes and their grubby-pawed leaders.

[Rokk]

Rokk rolled his eyes at his Dragga's words, not very respectful, but he was still some paces behind Chalos, and he was looking ahead. 'tales are for young niave pups.' he muttered under his breath. and he was no niave pup to be captivated by the woven words of msyery and false idolhood. he preferred going out somewhere and doing, not sitting in a cramped den and listening to old stories of long dead vargs, stories that had long lost their magic.
Rokk's brows creased intoa slight frown as he realised the truth in Chalos' words, he had never been to the back of the den, more near the entrance where he felt a little safer, apart from the others. they kept their eye on him, so he wanted to be by the exit for a quick escape shoudl their suspicions turn into red-blooded hatred. although he sincerely hoped that was just a silly thought in his head.

although this time, he did hear the name Little Sikla and he growled in protest. 'how many times do i have to tell you, im no sikla!' Rokk scowled after him as he increased his pace, and pushed himself to go faster, gritting his teeth as pain shot up from his leg. clearly, this was not doing it any good, but he could stand the pain if it meant proving to his Dragga that he was no pathetic sikla. little in Chalo's eyes maybe; he was not yet fully grown, but sikla? definately not.

'i never asked you to carry me in.' Rokk muttered in reply and hurried on inside as fast as his leg woudl allow him to. he inhaled slightly, a hiss of air rushing into his lungs in surprise as Chalos jumped over him, and he snorted slightly, obidiently following him to the back of the den, although he had obsolutely no idea of his Dragga's intents. what if he really did think he was a Balkar spy? was he going to kill him as an example? or would he merely get a long lecture, maybe a nip and be pushed even further to the side of Deor's social circle? Rokk sighed, he hadnt a clue, but he sighed and wiated for Chalos to speak first.[/b]


ooc- aaargle flaargle. my cat just jumped on my back 0_0 thats it, he's finally gone even more mad.

[Chalos Autumn]

In the back of the den lay ancient human drawings, of hunting with spears and roasting over small fires and music and storytelling. This was the haven of Deor, though Chalos kept it to himself - it would be a priveledge for others to see this place; a fascinating experience, indeed. Shaking himself free of dirt, the Dragga lay tiredly against the back wall of the cave, a sigh blowing through his lips.

"Rokk." He muttered, briefly looking over the human's old-age pictures, "I have brought you here.. So that we may talk. It is easier when you do not have the stress of everyone else beating down upon you, and, well, I want you to be able to trust your Dragga." A wise nod tilted Chalos' head for only a moment before he continued, "Tell me, Rokk, what happened in the Balkar territories - tell me everything. If they hurt you in any way, it is a reason for us to, honestly, go to war with them. We will have to sought friendship from either of the two remaining light packs - Koran, Ge-Rad - to help us in this battle. Now then, Rokk, tell me your story."

Chalos was an odd alpha, never sticking to traditional ways, but instead taking things into his own paws, dealing with them little by little instead of simply head-on. This was his way, and this was why so many in his pack trusted him; he could deal with any issue without resorting to violence.. Any issue, that is, except a war.

[Rokk]

Rokk's brown eyes roved all about this place, fascinated by the drawings and strange images that he had never seen the likes of in his life. although secretly he was fascinated and deadly curious about them, he really didnt wish to let his Dragga know how much. so he kept his expression neutral, trying to look as if they meant nothing to him.

his attention turned back to Chalos as the Dragga began to talk. a slight frown threatened to crease Rokk's forehead, and he struggled with it and managed to keep his expression as neutral as it had been before.

Rokk tilted his head to the side in surprise, astounded by what Chalos was suggested. was what the Balkar did to him enough to make Deor, and Koran and GeRad go to war with the Balkar and, enivitably, Sarnes? the two packs with the most evil reputations in the whole of Transylvania? more to the point, Chalos was giving Rokk the perfect oppurtunity to get his revenge upon the Balkar once and for all. for what they did to him recently, and what they had done in the past. Rokk knew it would ahve been foolish to think he could have killed the First Of The Balkar, his musing reinforced by his recent meeting with Serg. in his mind, he had settled for killing one balkar to avenge his father's death, but now, he coul either sway Chalo's choice to wreak war upon the pack he despised, but then something akin to a conscious twigged inside him. many vargs might die in this if he lied, and it would be his fault. no. he would tell Chalos the truth. he would not try to sway his decision.

'well, i've always despised the Balkar... my father was a Dragga of a pack on the other side of the mountains, and one of our scouts went into Balkar territories to look for food. he was sent back, bloodied and torn, with a message, never to send another scout anywhere near them again. at least, thats what i got told, although im sure it was alot more spiteful than that. but i was young at the time. the scout later died of his injuries, he was my father's brother, so my father went to get answers. we had not heard of the Balkar before then. they killed him. ever since i've wanted revenge. but, that's my problem.' Rokk shrugged.

'only, this time, i was in the woods with Lufian, and a Balkar came along, he tried to get me to join, when i wouldnt, he tried to take me there. thats how i injured my leg, so i couldnt escape him... they were discussing ways in which to kill me, when, they discovered Lufian had followed.' Rokk growled. it was a great dent to his pride that the faemme he had been calling a sikla constantly had saved him from the slow and painful death that the Balkar had planned for him. 'she picked me up and ran whilst they were distracted.' he finished, rather quickly, his gaze lowered to the ground. he had been bullying and making fun of Lufian before the balkar attacked, he still didnt know why she rescued him. if their roles had been reversed, a small part of him knew he wouldnt have risked his hind to save a varg like him.

[Chalos Autumn]

The grand Dragga fairly chuckled as Rokk's eyes studied the strange walls, though now was not a time of curiosity and questions of knowledge. Chalos sat patiently, listening intently to his young packmate's words, interested in what the Sikla had to say. A slight nod was given when Rokk's hatred of the Balkar was brought up, and the strangely-marked male nodded in agreement, adding, "Ah, yes, but who of sane mind doesn't hate the vicious brutes?" This was true - no varg, other than those who were mad or were obviously raised wrong, sided with the Balkar, or even dared to cross its boundaries.

As the young, energetic wolf finished, his alpha closed his eyes, repeating what Rokk had said in his mind. Eventually, an agreement seemed to have come up, for Chalos' deep sage-emerald eyes opened once more, a wise shine glimmering within. "Rokk." He annouced, drawing himself close to the lanky male and lowering his head in order to make the two eye-to-eye, "My decision will change everything that Deor and Ge-Rad have established, will demolish the equilibrium between good and evil, and will take away lives in the process. Dearest Rokk, my rule is final; there shall be a call to war, a battle with Deor and Ge-Rad together against the Balkar and the Sarnes packs. I know not whether Koran will fight with us - it depends on which way the war turns.. If the wicked beasts of Balkar and Sarnes begin to prevail, Koran will have to come in to push them back or otherwise watch Ge-Rad and Deor fall."

With that, Chalos stood, shook himself, and began to walk out of his den, climbing down the ledge that led from his den into the pack den, and stood at the pack den's entrance, leaving Rokk in his Dragga's cave and gazing up at his den with determined eyes. "Small, recent member you are, young Rokk, but your heart is as large as your Dragga's - a high position for you will now be given, child. A warrior, one who shall command the ranks of Deor in this quarrel that might very well become bloody - keep your pack safe, follow my orders, and don't lose your wits, whatever you do, for your soldiers' lives are at stake should Balkar and Sarnes retaliate with their own forces. Good day, Rokk, I leave you to ponder my words and take in the title of your new position."

With a flick of his feathery, flared tail, the jet-and-rust lupine turned to leave, off to the highest cliff in the territory in order to howl a call to war.

[Rokk]

Rokk nodded slightly, and tried to force a knowing smile, but it didnt come. unfortunately, there was too many insane vargs, or vargs who were raised wrong, who sided with the Balkar, or with Serg's other pack, Sarnes. and Rokk and Lufian had probably worked their way onto Serg's hate-list for escaping from his glutenous grasp. Rokk's eyes took on a troubled look, that he banished away when Chalos spoke his name. he straightened himself up, and forced himself to sit still and attentive as he saw his Dragga was talking of very serious matters.

Rokk's ears perked, and his ears widened as he heard one thing in the midst of Chalos' speech. a call to war? Deor was goign to war? alongside GeRad? against the Balkar? that was a huge thing. two packs against two packs. and this, would also, be his major test. not only in his physical strength and skill. he figured that his leg would ahve recovered enough by then for him to fight well enough. after all, he should only have a funny walk now. right?
but, this war would also test another aspect of his strength. his strength of mind, would he be able to stay calm and focused. he prayed that coming face to face with the vargs who tortured and almost killed him would not make an uncontrollable fear rise up within him. he prayed to Tor and Fenris that he'd be able to master himself in order to be of some use to Deor. for they would need every varg they could get. and he would not allow himself to cower in the shadows. he had been apartied in the makings of this war. it had been because he had been unable to evade capture that this was all happening. Rokk closed his eyes then sighed heavily. as he opend them, he saw Chalos beginning to walk out of his den. Rokk stood as if to follow, but the next words his Dragga spoke stilled him, and he paused to listen.

Rokk blinked. a warrior? him? was this all some sort of dream. no, he was definately awake. a grim smile spread across his maw. but then, it disappeared as he realised the responsibility that also came with this position. now he had to keep safe the vargs of Deor. most of whom treated him with suspicion and had kept a close eye on him. but no, he would not let that get to him. he had to protect them, espcecially in the time to come. and he would not allow himself to fail at this.

'i will not fail you my Dragga.' he whispered, even though Chalos had already left. Rokk bowed his head and slowly clambered out of the den. Chalos had work to do, and Rokk had to collect his thoughts and contemplate on how best he could be help his Dragga efficiently. this would definately be his greatest test so far.