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[Ahren de le Poer]

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For Jajuka. Dated 2.27.08
indent Two days after meeting the young man from Storm with the horse, Ahren was sitting on a bridge. He wasn’t sure when the pack had built this, but it was something he hadn’t really taken notice of before. To say he was sitting on the bridge was a bit of a misconstruction—he was, really, sitting on the railing of the bridge. Both arms were resting on his legs, the left holding a cigarette, the right turning a coin over in his fingers. Someone had once told him about how men used to wish on these worthless pieces of metal, throwing them into water. He couldn’t understand the concept. There were a lot of things, though, he supposed he didn’t understand. Quietly, he took a drag on the cigarette, shifted his feet on the cold wood under them, and sighed.

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[Jajuka Ur'akai]

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The fog was surprisingly easy to get used to. After spending a few days doing nothing but inspecting the mist-draped lands of Clouded Tears, Jajuka had become familiar with most of the territory and its quirky idea of weather. But that was to be expected; the youth was quite capable of adapting to new situations quickly. A slight grin on his maw, he turned away from the frozen lake and headed south, following the path the river created. He’d make his way across that bridge he spotted earlier.



Before long, the wooden structure peeked through the mist. It appeared that someone was sitting idly on the railing. As he thought about how annoying it would be to stop for idle chit-chat, Jajuka realized that he had met this wolf before. It was the man who had first spotted him on the border of the pack. He took a step onto the wooden structure, fully intending to continue on his merry way. The Ur’akai wolf gave him a look, nothing more than an acknowledgment, but one could easily find a bit of a challenge in it, if that were expected.

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[Ahren de le Poer]

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indent Before the stranger had even reached the bridge, Ahren had heard him. The blonde had been so absorbed in the silence that the slightest sound of feet over frozen grass struck him like a thunderclap. The look he spared the young man was disinterest—though, upon seeing the faint challenge, the superiority complex he still held raised its dirty little head. Ahren’s ego and his pride were unbreakable, and were brought up in subtle, little signals like the one he saw in Jajuka.
indent “Do you want something?” He asked coolly, though there was an undertone in his voice. A response to the challenge, a I see your bet and raise you deal. Lifting the cigarette back to his mouth, the blonde kept his eyes on the younger man. This could prove to be interesting.

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