Ruieze Fields

Open fields and soft grass...
Ruieze stretches far in the midlands of Moladion, laced with streams that feed into Diveen and out of Asteraia at times. The fields are vast, filled with wildflowers and tall, soft grass; trees are sparse, as are rocks, but one can find small shrubs to hide amongst, and the grass itself. To the south of the fields, a Ruieze River widens, and the ground becomes sandy. There is a small, grassy island that can be reached from the banks, with water-birds often congregating on the island rather than the riverbanks.

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Tyrion

Tyrion raised a brow at Eztli. The golden male was more of a diplomat not a fighter. That meant is initial reaction was not to stay on the defensive. It was an instinctive one that, in the right situation, could get him killed. The scars on his face were certainly no joke. He continued to observe the boy, making note of everything in his body language from the twitch of his tail to the showing of his teeth.

The golden blonde wolf clearly was not put off by the younger male's reactions. If anything, his calm demeanor was irritating him more. Tyrion cleared his throat, giving an ever so slight nod. Only a year older than his own, but still learning the ways of the world. "Very well then," he began. His tone was not condescending. If the boy felt he was grown enough to be treated as such, Tyrion would speak to him as such. He would maybe even be able to teach the boy a lesson or two in how to approach strange wolves that he only had visual knowledge of. "I don't take kindly to those who interrupt my peace or moments to think. It would be wiser if someone from the goodly pack of Taviora did not stalk someone from an allied pack," he scolded. Yes, scolded, but his tone was more corrective rather than degrading.

His eyes were scanning for a reaction for the fact that he knew where the boy was from. Namely the smell of the forest pack gave it away, seeing as Tyrion had the pleasure of visiting during young Mara Sov's ball the previous year. A rather sly grin creased his maw. "No, there is no tempting, otherwise you would have done it already. Now, its time to use your powers of observation. What would a wolf, clearly with no significant physical prowess or stature, yet must have some considering the scars on his face and partial nose, be doing near Asteraia a relatively short time after it changed paws for a second time in less than a year?"

Tyrion watched Eztli with a raised brow. He wondered what the boy might deduce from the situation at hand. Before him was a calm and collected wolf, not one reacting defensively. Perhaps he could figure it out, or maybe he wouldn't and it would be a lesson in observation to be had today.

MALE - EIGHTEEN - IMPRINTLESS - LOVELESS - SPIRANE
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