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indent Several things had happened in the past few days. What was left of Inferni had gathered on the other side of the mountain, including his brother, who had come like a ghost from the flame. He had explained they would rebuild, and left Faolin in charge while he went to scout potential territories. As long as everyone remained together, regardless of whether they went to find food or such, they would be safe. He warned them of the wolves and that they would have changed—they had nothing left to lose. Neither, he thought darkly, did they.
indent He kept a direct path along the plains, moving with the ease of a traveler used to these conditions. It reminded him of the west, in truth. Trotting along he might have resembled a lost dog more closely then a wolf or coyote, but the tall grass here was safe enough. Turning towards the rise, the hybrid soon found the tall grass gave way to a rocky area with shorter grass. Several towering boulders stuck out from the earth and Gabriel scaled one of these without much effort. Up here, the territories were visible from all around. It was no surprise to see there was a sandy bay to the west, which pleased him. He leapt from the boulder and followed the rocky face of the would-be wall, finding that several caves were hidden among the face. These he did not deeply explore, though they smelled only of old stone, meaning they were abandoned.
indent Turning back, Gabriel made his way down the hill, confident that this place would serve Inferni well.
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------Everywhere. They're every-fucking-where. They had been accumulating for a handful of days now, their numbers swelling and growing as a mould might left unattended in a dark bathroom corner. A low growl rumbled deep in the male's chest. He had an almost feline-like appearance about him as he stalked about--his head was held low, his ears were flattened against his head, and his eyes were constantly roving over every bush, bramble, and stone in search of hidden bodies.
------There was one thing that Anselm treasured and desired more than anything else in this world--and that was to be alone. That was why he had come here, to this seemingly abandoned place. Here he could lay low and do as he pleased, rather than answering to obnoxious females or whiny children or self-righteous males who thought their presence was what made the sun rise every day. And now, be it by fate or dumb luck, his peaceful and quiet retreat was about to be violated.
------He would have nothing to do with it, or so he thought. For now, he lifted a leg. A stream of hot, pungent urine splashed across one of the boulders that marked the entry-way to his personal cave and den. They could do whatever they wanted, so long as he could find enough food, but this spot was his. Satisfied with his territorial mark, he began to pace back and forth once again... head still low, eyes still irate and displeased. Suddenly he stopped, one paw held mid-air before he gingerly placed it back on the earth, quiet as a mouse. Somebody was nearby, and they were too close for comfort.
------Immediately he sprang into action, moving quickly and low to the ground. After several minutes of tracking, he spotted a doggish male up ahead. Isolated as he may be, the de le Poer had heard about his infamous relatives down yonder in Bleeding Souls. Suddenly, something in his brain clicked and he wondered if this was where these throngs of morons were coming from. Well, now... I'll be damned, he thought, as the gears started spinning faster and faster. Perhaps this find in particular was not so bad. Gabriel's reputation was an honourable one, even in his eyes. Anselm immediately decided to confront the other canine... perhaps there was something to be gained, after all. Perhaps if Gabriel and his heinous clan took refuge here, he might be able to preserve some of his space. Who would come to mess with the great freaks of Inferni?
------First, though, a test was in order. Anselm was not about to roll over for anybody, reputation or not. He now marched forward with militant ease, headed straight toward the other wolf. He waited for Gabriel to recognise him. Once he did, a mere dip of his head and a locked-on stare were all that he offered--no words were given. He began to move forward quickly now, at a rather alarming speed for his built structure, his large shoulder aimed squarely for the other male's in an attempt to knock him out of the way or off balance. Curiously, however, his teeth were not bared--this was a multifaceted test, after all. It was not merely a test of Gabriel's strength, but also his physical reaction time, and his ability to mentally assess whether there was a true threat or not. Only those with the sharpest of minds could easily tell when Anselm de le Poer meant business.
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indent The stranger’s scent had wafted over the breeze, one that was made more pungent by his recent marking. Gabriel stopped moving immediately, head high, testing the wind. He turned back and was greeted by a wolfish male. Still, he wasn’t all wolf—that much Gabriel could see in his build. It was the eyes that made the de le Poer hesitate, because he knew those eyes. They were close, if not exactly, the same hue as his father’s. This was no sibling though—they were too close in age for Ahren to have procreated in such a time line.
indent As soon as the male’s head dropped, Gabriel’s body tensed. He kept his gold-yellow eyes locked on his opponent, lowering his head just slightly. The speed of the stranger did not shock him; they were roughly the same size, and Gabriel knew how fast he could move. When the shoulder struck his own, Gabriel took the blow and let his feet move backwards, body spinning as he used the stranger’s own momentum against him. As slick as a serpent he had come around and bashed his skull into the hybrid’s side. It was a hard blow, one intended to do the same that Anselm himself aimed.
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------A grin tugged at the corners of Anselm's lips, even as he felt Gabe's head contact with his shoulder and send him scrambling for balance. Had he been braced, the head butt probably would have amounted to much less... but as any physicist knows, the coefficient of kinetic friction is much lower than that of static friction. It was a clever way to use the laws of nature against him, and Anselm skidded off to the side and had to lay down in a crouch in order to keep from tumbling head over heels further down the hill. Here, his clamped jaws parted and his tongue snaked out one side, and he only lay here for several moments, panting to dissipate his own excitement and the effects of the adrenaline now racing through his veins.
------Far from looking for an all out fight, he did not leap up once more for a second assault. He was satisfied with what he had seen; quick reflexes, quick thinking, and good judgement. He remained in this position for a few moments more, before raising slowly to his feet. An inappropriate amount of time had passed, but Anselm had a habit of taking his sweet old time when it came to organising his thoughts. He was not one to speak without thinking first. "So the rumours are true, and my suspicions confirmed," he finally exhaled. "Gabriel de le Poer," he addressed his cousin, "what brings you to these wastelands?" Anselm would be more willing to answer questions himself once he had a better grasp on the situation. After another moment of consideration, he added: "Not that I reject the possibility of a powerful ally." In this, a suggestion, a question, and an offer.
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indent As expected, the male went down. Gabriel shifted his feet and settled onto his haunches as soon as he realized they were done, breathing returning to normal. It had barely been elevated, as he had done little. The stranger’s amount of time on the ground did not concern Gabriel, who had remarkable patience in regards to such things. Once the tawny fellow was on his feet, Gabriel followed suit. That his name was known was mildly surprising, but there was no outward sign from the hybrid to suggest such a thing perturbed him. Instead, he listened quietly, and smiled faintly at the last words spoken.
indent “Fire,” he explained. “The whole expanse beyond that mountain,” he gestured to the northwest. “, went up in flames.” After all, he had started the damned thing. That had been his plan (God’s plan, he reminded himself) all along. “You seem to know my name, but I don’t know yours,” he added, the faintest mad-Lykoi grin cracking his face. “Start there and tell me about this place and we’ll see what can be done.”
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------A succinct and quick response was offered, one which roused up images of smoke and ash and flame. Anselm himself had something of a preoccupation with fire, and he now wondered if it wasn't something bred into their genes. Pyromania ought to find itself in good company with desire and madness, he supposed. Moreover, he found himself considering just what kind of fire would cause such vast numbers to flee their homes. The earth was still moist and fertile, as nature prepared for a time of growth and plenty. It must have been of epic proportion, something that only the gods could conceive. Perhaps they were all being damned, in their own special way.
------"Anselm de le Poer," he stated simply. Let it be known that this was one of the simplest times anybody would ever have in extracting information from the male. Anselm offered information in exchange for information--and most of the time, he didn't care what anybody else had to say. This whole event, however, was going to drastically reshape his daily routine, his lifestyle, and quite possibly his home. It was not only reasonable, but essential, that he be interested. "This land is unceremoniously dubbed The Waste. The networks of caves are expansive and tricky. This whole area was relatively abandoned," he continued, suggesting territories beyond the scope of the one they were currently in, "but that seems about to change. Regardless, there is plenty of prey and fresh water in the area to sustain great numbers." Whether or not he enjoyed that idea was a different story.
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indent It would not be surprising to assume fire burnt in their blood. Especially now that his suspicions were confirmed as the stranger named himself as a de le Poer. How, that was the question. He held his tongue, listening as the land was titled. The Waste. It was appropriate, coming from a place like Hell’s Coast. His eyes scanned the area with ease, following the narration of his relative. Nodding smartly, he turned back to the red-eyed hybrid. “I’m curious to know how the family branched off,” he said off-handedly, suggesting that an explanation was in order.
indent “Since you live here, I’ll let you know what I’m intending—Inferni will move here. The wolves are moving into the forests, as I’m sure you’ve seen. I refuse to move us closer to them then we have to be.” Here, his eyes implied. This is where we will live. “Though,” he continued, as slick as a politician. “I’m sure you’d prove valuable with your knowledge of the area.”
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------"Through my father Carcharoth, in turn whelped by Scatha and sired by Azrael--son of Nosferatu, I carry the de le Poer name." He assumed this explanation would be sufficient. He was not entirely sure about Gabriel's relations, himself, only that Nosferatu was a common ancestor. Damian had come way before his time and was of little use in the present. As for Ahren, he had not heard of him, either. It was only he at the helm of Inferni who received such recognition, along with a few other namesakes he had forced upon him more than once because of his slightly muddled blood. Kaena Lykoi was queen of the criminal coyotes, although he had heard increasingly little about her over the past year or so. Instead, it was her son--who carried his ancestor's name--that made the headlines.
------An ear flicked quietly as the hybrid explained his intentions. Well, Anselm was certainly more welcoming to the idea of Inferni taking up residence here than any prejudiced lot of wolves, and there would be family, to boot. He was always hesitant to place too much trust into blood, but ultimately, it was all that he often had to go on. He nodded, and his head cocked to the side at the final comment. To this, he offered only one word as a promise: "Certainly." For now, he felt strangely satisfied. Other questions danced around in the back of his head--how strong were their numbers? How many of the original group had escaped the fire? Rather than ask, however, he simply decided to wait this one out. The answers would come on their own in due time.
------He gazed at the other calmly as he continued to process the information he had just received. Mostly, though, he appeared ready to assist. Gabriel was probably interested in rounding up his crew and beginning to stake claim to The Waste before anybody else could get their paws on it. Shall we? his eyes seemed to read.
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