Destined to wear an Auburn Crown

The man walked silently through the lands, unsure where he was or really what to do. Duskguard was gone, and it felt like his purpose was gone to. The man continued to sniff and search, hoping for some scent that could tell him what happened. But, unfortunately he found nothing. Annoyed, he let out a loud snarl, stopping on the ground in frustration. Now, he was alone and, though he was fine with being alone, he hated not knowing.

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It was both familiar and new to the man of cream and gold, walking these lands once again. Once, he had done it alongside those of the pack, alongside friends, and family. Now, he remained alone, though he held little doubt it would remain that way for long. The spire had a curious way of presenting what was least expected.

As if by divine comedy, it was that exact moment that a snarl twisted his course, changed his path so that he sought to intercede whatever creature made such sound. And a creature it surely was, a mountainous thing of fur and flesh. Some sort of bear, perhaps? Coming to a halt some distance from the other, the wolf chuffed, a vy for attention to see if it held some sort of intelligence or if it was a creature that should simply be left alone to wander and bumble away as time passed.

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He didn't know there was someone around him, and so when he heard a soft call out, he turned quickly, his body tense as his eyes locked on to the wolf. After realizing it was simply just that, a wolf and not something possibly dangerous, he would relax slightly. Granted, he knew wolves could easily be dangerous, he still remembered his old life after all and how his breath was taken from him by a pack of wolves, but he also knew that, at least in this world, most wolves seemed to be much more sentient than in his old world. 

He nodded his head in greeting, speaking out in a deep and rumbling voice, a heavy Mongolian accent thick on his words. "Hello there. I apologize if I disturbed you." He said politely, feeling a little bad for having his freakout while another was around. He moved to sit down, something he did often when speaking to others as he had startled more creatures then he would like to admit with his large, furry form and deep voice. And so, he wanted to show that he didn't mean to be a threat to the newcomer.

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The bjarnarvera — bear-creature turned, whipping around as quickly as his gargantuan frame seemed to allow him to. Eyes lifted, curious and amused and careful, all at once. This beast was no laughing matter, truly, but Stjornuati could not help but appreciate the truly unique situations he seemed to find himself in. A little dragon. A bear-wolf-dog-creature. At some point, he half expected a draugar to rise from the earth and attempt to gnaw on his leg.

Ears twisted, pitching forward to catch the voice drenched in an accent the Northman had never heard before, struggling to parse and understand. He caught most of it, fortunately enough. “Hallo. Bjarnarvera disturbs nothing. Only silence. And perhaps this night's dinner.” The smallest of smiles pulled at pebbled lips, curving one side of his mouth. Stjornuati remained standing, watching as the other being settled, making himself non-threatening. “This one has not seen one like you before.”

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He raised an eyebrow slightly, watching the wolf for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching up at the strange way the man spoke. Not that he had much to say about it honestly, he knew his own use of the common tongue wasn't always the most correct. But still, there was a single word that stuck out to him. "Bjarnarvera?" He said, his tone not picking up the strange word perfectly, but able to pronounce it at least. "What is that word?" He let out a low, deep chuckle at the man's comment before nodding, not really annoyed as he was rather used to wolves not knowing about his species. 

"I am a canine known as a Tibetan Mastiff, a dog." He said simply. "I have never actually met another like me before since I got here." He spoke honestly, but he didn't seem to mind. "I tended to spend my time with wolves." He would sniff the air slightly, taking in the scent of the man and noticing that there was no lingering pack scents.

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It was not uncommon for Stjornuati to be asked about his language, the words he used, the accent he spoke with. While it was not something he was obscenely protective over, the man likely wouldn't take the time to teach another his tongue, either. A word here or there, however?

“Bjarnarvera,” He repeated evenly, following it with the explanation the creature in question was seeking. “Bear-creature.” His reasoning for the use of such a word did not need explaining, and even if it did, Stjor found it too obvious to entertain a whole conversation around the why.

A dog. Stjornuati's head canted thoughtfully, examining the other with those dark eyes that gave so little away. “You are from North, yes? All your fur.”And then, another question, not at all embarrassed or shy when it came to learning about another. “You are not treated as...” Pause, search for a word, “Difference? Different. You are not treated as different in packs?” Tartok and Stormhaven would have certainly treated him differently, but they treated all as outsiders, until they proved themselves.

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He nodded slightly in understanding. "Ah! So like a Baavgai." He let out a soft chuckle and a slight nod, glancing down at his fluffy bear-like form. "That is an understandable statement." And he honestly couldn't really be too angry at that, he did look like a bear after all. 

He flicked an hear and nodded his head slightly. "That is correct, I prefer the north, or at least the snow and mountains." He gestures around him, showing why he was in these lands. He shrugged slightly. "I am normally treated differently among chono, wolves, but in Duskguard I was not. Lord Tiberius and Lady Olive treated me like family." 

He cocked his head to the side slightly, flicking an ear for a moment. "Why do you ask?" His voice filled with curiosity, wondering why the other man questioned that.

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The bjarnarvera -- Mastiff, he supposed, though the word did not feel as though it encompassed the creature's existence properly -- related the aforementioned moniker to another word, one that Stjornuati again felt was lacking. Baavgai did not hold the weight, the power of the language he had used and though he may have been biased, the stareater would continue to call him such. Well, in his head, at least.

It wasn't until the bear-dog meantioned Tiberius that Stjornuati's expression actually shifted, the slightest amount of curiosity, surprise written across his normally stoic face. “Tiberius?” He questioned, remembering a wolf that was far too quick to want to fight. He remembered his presence alongside the slight and soft snow-princess, @Reiko when they had come to the borders of this very mountain. That he ended up leading a pack was... Interesting. It was not something he chose to comment on.

“Where this one comes from, it is the way. Outsiders that look as outsiders are...” Not shunned, not exiled... He searched for the words, frowning before attempting to explain. “Easier to forget one is different when they look the same.” It was as good of an explanation as he could give in the common tongue, though if he was lucky, the meaning would not get lost in translation.

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He flicked an ear slightly when the name was mentions, it seemed the stranger knew of Tiberius. He nodded his large head slowly. "Yes, do you know of him?" He asked simply, cocking his head to the side in curiosity. 

When the conversation flicked to outsiders, he shrugged slightly, not seeming to be concerned or hurt by his words. He knew he was different than most and had several years to get used to that. "Outsiders are looked at differently, more so when not looking like the others?" He asked, figuring he understood what the man meant. "Do you see those that do not look like you that way?" There was no malice or rudeness in his thick tone, only curiosity in the simple question.

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A gruff rumble left him, nodding in tandem with the sound of acknowledgement. “Tiberius stood guard over Reiko upon these very borders. Did not seem... diplómatísk.” Then again, Stjornuati could have been very wrong; perhaps it was a situational matter that had led to Tiberius striking those chords within him. Then again, none of it truly mattered then, did it? Not unless the dark man was to appear here before them, as if by magic.

His line of thought stopped there; he could not put it past this place, these lands, to do something such as that.

Another acknowledgement as the bear-creature parsed his words, though his own question was phrased in such a way that made it difficult for the Northerner to understand. “This one does not understand bjarnarvera's question.” There was no shame in him, admitting that, as the common tongue was a difficult one even for it's native speakers.

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He cocked his head to the side slightly in curiosity, simply giving a bit of a 'hmm' but not giving much else that would tell what he was thinking. Instead, he simply glanced around him, taking in everything about the lands that they were currently on. He didn't know anything about this woman named Reiko, but perhaps he may wander upon them at some point. It would be good to know what he could about them. 

He thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to reask his question. "How do you feel about me not being a wolf." He figured he might as well be as direct as he could. He couldn't fully blame the other male though, as he didn't fully understand the common language either. All of this would be so much easier if he could just speak in his native tongue. But alas, no one he had met knew of the Mongolian language. So instead, he would just have to deal with what he was given.

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“This one cares not.” While Stjornuati did not look like the bearcreature, there were many animals that such was the case with. Synin was a prime example of this, the pale-feathered bird one that frequently accompanied the man upon his journeys. While the relationship was not quite the same as it would be with another wolf, the northern man did not figure it made one difference or another. It would be hypocritical of him to care about one creature but not another. would it not?

“And you? How does björn care about this one being wolf and not Mastive.” His mispronunciation of the word was as close as he could get to the actual word but the meaning was all the same and likely not lost on the other. He was curious of the creature's opinion, at the very least.

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He nodded slightly, his shoulders falling slightly as a bit of a weight was taken off of his shoulders. While he didn't normally care about how others felt about him, it was nice to talk to someone who didn't see him as some sort of strange monster. However, what he wasn't expecting was for the man to ask the same question to him. 

He shook his head, his large mane shaking as he did so. "I do not. If you are accepting to me than I am accepting to you." He said simply, thinking for a moment before speaking again. "What are you planning to do?" He asked simply, curious to know where this wolf was going after this.

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Easy enough. Stjörnuáti took a moment to shake out his fur before his head turned, indicating the peak. “This one will build a home and a pack here.” In time and with effort, of course. But all things would happen as they needed to. Bidding the bearcreature a good bye, the stareater returned up the peak, watching from afar to make sure the other saw himself out.

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