On the backs of giants [for Alue]

[pooka]

Silmarillion could have been a spectre, for all the noise the male made as he moved along the slope of loose stone. The snow fields had receded higher up the slopes, leaving great expanses of barren stone and shale on their sides. He was picking his way along carefully, taking pains not to send the loose rubble skittering away down the flank of the mountain. Starting a rockslide would be all too easy here, and he didn't particularly want to attract any attention to himself.

He'd chosen to come to the Snowhall Crags today for two purposes. The first was that he didn't particularly want to be disturbed today, whether anyone were about or not. He was in one of his scheming moods. The second reason sprouted from his first - he wanted to do a task today that allowed solitude, and this one needed doing. He was checking this harsh land, the boundary of the Eyrie packlands to see the last time the borders had been properly marked, and by who. The lands had been in flux of late, and they were starting to fill with new members. Old faces were scarce. It was, in Cil's eyes, the perfect time for a play for power. Still, it was too early to reveal his hand. He needed a little more information.

That brought him here, to the steep ridges and peaks of Snowhall. The sun glared down from a faultless blue sky, but the air was still cool, even for the summer, and it twisted about with it's rapid way, as was so common in the highlands. Thunderheads were looming off to the east, promising lightning soon, but for now all was calm. It was, all told, a nice opportuinity.

The arctic male slowed his steps as he neared a particularly large glacial boulder. It was one of the places where Eyrie's border ought to have been kept, but there was hardly any trace of scent. Winter's harsh weather and spring's snowmelt had erased it, and no one had been out here all year to bother with it. Perfect. Disarray. Cil took a moment to mark the place before moving on.

His deep brown eyes scanned the flanks of the mountain as he walked, and his ears swiveled this way and that. This was open country - nowhere to hide, for he was nearly two miles above the treeline. He would see, or hear, anyone's approach, long before they were upon him. Not that it mattered, if it were an Eyrie wolf. He had every right to be out here, doing what he was doing. The slow, loyal beta, doing his duty for the greater good and all that rot. Rogues posed the greater risk, but few were stupid enough to tread here without knowing the land, and Silmarillion was capable of holding his own against those who did. He simply didn't want to be disturbed. Not to mention... the rumors, tales of spectres and beings not of this world, finding travelers in the mountains. Pah. It was religious, superstitious foolishness in his opinion. Still, the whims of fools could be useful, could they not? He smiled a crooked smirk to himself. It was time to stop being so damned lazy.

[Madey(Hatter)]

She wasn't heading anywhere, she was just simply laying in the snow, with her snout in the air as she smelled the new scents so she would get familiar of what was going on with the pack, which wasn't really a pack until there was an alpha, which she hoped to be...Well, alphess. She thought about that for a couple of minutes and nodded to herself, she had been alpha before, she has been warrior, captain, beta, spy, or advisor. Each rank was high in it's own way, each rank you had to be trusted. And trusted she was. Instead of marking her territory she rubbed her fur on the trees making her scent around the area, which the brute would be getting close too and it would start to fume in his nostrils. Her sweet feminine scent. She was laying on top of a medium sized glacier close by him, not really caring if he would notice her or not. Though she was quiet and would be hard to detect. She huffed lowly and raked her black sharp talons against the ice. Making it loud enough for the brute to hear and turn his dome towards her. Her tail was swaying back and forth calmly behind her, making faint drag marks that were growing heavier and heaveir as her tail sweeped over it again and again. her auds were pricked as she studied him below. A low snicker escaped her maw. She was used to brutes like this, this was what made those bad memeries start attacking her head. She clenched her eyes and teeth shut in pain as the past memeries filled her head, now seeing them even though she didn't want too. Auds pinned tightly to her skull as her upper lip twiched in frustration. 'This is paposterious!' she snaped coldly to herself in her head. Shaking it minuts later feeling rediculous. The memmeries then started to fade. When they were in the back of her mind once again she was pleasently happy about it, though no expression was detected in her face, or eyes, or even body posture. She had her two front paws cross, and her head lifted as golden green orbs studied the brute. Since she was so far away he woudln't beable to detect her batlle scars. She took a breath and rose from her position and leaned over the glacier. Waiting for him to make a move or respond.

[pooka]

The white male walked along the back of one rides and to the next. It had been all day since he'd seen any signs of wolven life, which was well enough. A glacier crouched at the top of the next rise, impeding his way, and as he neared close to it, a scent began to waft toward his nostirls. Damn it all. Stinking fea. He could see her in the distance now, a faint ruddy spot on the ice. She smelled familiar to him, although he couldn't exactly place her. She was Eyrie, to be sure, but a newcomer, and someone he was unfamiliar with.

He rolled his shoulders as he approached, flicking his ears back as she made a scraping sound on the ice. He was the pack beta, or at least, he was for the moment. He couldn't really get away without speaking to her, but perhaps it would be a short conversation. Ah well. It would do to know your potential allies, rivals, or subjects, would it not? asked a thought. Cil grunted. Why the hell not.

"Hark, fae. Greetings." His voice was a gravely tenor, formal and polite. If she knew him at all, she would know him as the Eyrie beta. Loyal, if dim-witted. Well, not precisely dim witted. Just... unconcerned with thinking to hard. Yes, that was it. It was a persona Silmarillion had crafted carefully, and it had allowed him to climb this far up the chain of command. He'd never slipped, never showed a crack in the mask. He wouldn't now, eaither. He gazed at her evenly, his tail slightly elevated as was appropriate, but he made no other displays of dominance. Ostentatious he was not.

"How goes it, then?" He moved closer, stepping from stone to ice and instantly feeling the heat as the sun glinted off the white surface. Summer in the mountains was strange - it could be well over 100 degrees with ice still on the ground, to ancient and stubborn to melt. Today the temperature would have hovered around 70.

Cil's mahogany eyes studied the female. Yes, definetly a newcomer, he'd have remembered one like her, and he wasn't away so often as to have missed her completley. She was large for her gender, and carried herself with a certain haughtiness that rankled at him, within. It would never have showed - instead he gazed placidly, making his way toward his packmate.

[Madey(Hatter)]

When she knew she was detected she nodded towards herself. When he started to approach her, her first reaction was taking a step back. Daggers bared, fur bristled, ears pinned tightly to her skull, and then he spoke his hello. She stopped the warning immediately"my apologize" Came her soft tone. "Hark?" She asked tilting her head faintly to the side." Never heard of that, but salutations brute. I'm Alue A'meastra. I prefer Alue though."A smirk started to tug at the end of her maw. Though it disappeared as if nothing was there in the first place. When he took another step forwards, golden green eyes had a wary look at his paws. Then rose to his eyes. She didn't take a step back this time, preparing herself for anything, though he wouldn't have seen that, for her face was blank...Emotionless. Like a mask with no holes. She took a breath." Honestly, I don't know." She knew she wasn't happy. She was never happy no a-days. She always carried a frown on her maw, and here and there she will give a snicker or smirk, but it was all wrong...There was no sign of happiness in her features or body language. There hasn't been for two to three years. Then she grew slightly curious about the brute that stood only feet away from her, maybe even inches. He had taken her by surprise when he spoke kindly when he didn't look the type before. "My turn to ask two questions" She said in a smooth tone, though once again had no emotion in it. "What's your name? And how are you?" She asked her head faintly turned to the side. Now that he was close enough her battle scars were visible, her misery was visible, and pain...was visible, not one thing was happy about this fae by the looking. Even though she acted like nothing was wrong, her features said otherwise. She had long and short white scars all across her muzzle and alongside her belly and sides, gashing teeth marks which were scabbed at the moment was very visible on her neck and back, and if you looked at the tip of her tail...Well, there was no tip of her tail. She had been in many fights and lucky to still be alive. Sometimes she wished she were dead.