1x1 w/ Consulting_Angel

[Dumezil]

Dark/urban fantasy with Consulting_Angel
Two werewolves, competing packs. Enemies to lovers.




Reserved for further information as plot grows and we work out the deets.

[Dumezil]

Name: Clayton "Clay" Bradford
Age: 30
Appearance: 6'2" and 235lbs, Clay has always had something of a presence. Good thing, as he has never considered himself a very good speaker and usually opts to keep his mouth shut and speak more with his actions. He has dark brown hair that he keeps a little longer now that he is no longer in the military. Green/blue dark-set eyes and a square jaw lend to some mean RBF. First glance usually has one assume that although pretty enough if you like the rugged type, he's probably a bit dull and incapable of any thoughts or emotions outside of your typical warrior hulk-smash attitude. He does enjoy weightlifting and cardio in his free time as well as his time sparring the other fighters for fun and practice.

Personality: Extremely private, RBF, military, fighter, sly humor, and a softness for nature
Although first glance lends to what would assume is a bland personality, Clay will eventually open up with those he trusts. Turns out, he's a pretty big softie. Incredibly private as an individual, very few outside of their alpha who has known him longest after plucking him from his unit know that. Outside of their alpha, Clay maintains either a mildly grumpy and quiet attitude or leans on his harsh and somewhat bullying military training in order to lead the other fighters in boundary skirmishes and battles. Despite that, a sly sense of humor occasionally escapes around the rest of his pack.

Clay enjoys being outdoors as do most of them, but for him it is even beyond basic instinct and a love for the moon. Even when still in the military he found being in the middle of nowhere and enduring the elements for days on end was the only place he could truly lean on his instincts and be himself. The more miserable his human companions were, the happier he tended to find himself.

Largely due to his history, Clay finds his wolf form much more comfortable mentally, spiritually, and physically, than his human form. Some human customs remain foreign to him, although his alpha has expressed suspicion on more than one occasion that it is more out of stubbornness and failure to see their importance than ability to actually adapt. He did well enough in the military as a extremely young werewolf with no pack after all, at least until she didn't.

History: In a taboo act considered grossly inappropriate and punishable by death among the packs, Clay is the product of a Canadian Arctic Grey wolf mother and unknown werewolf father. For the first few years of his life he was brought up only as a wolf, deep in the lonely and dangerous Canadian and Alaskan Arctic. It was then he was discovered by extreme adventurists and their hunter guide as a naked toddler seemingly unaffected by the temperatures and snow, deep in the middle of nowhere bear country.

Torn from his mother, Clay's life was flipped upside down and he bounced around hospitals and then science communities to be studied as the newest case of a feral child. Fortunately for him, his case caught the attention of a older psychologist and lone werewolf and he was quickly shuttled out of public view and all but forgotten. His "savior", or "Alf" as he began calling him when he first began speaking at seven years old, was not exactly a picture of attached parenting. Lone wolf for a reason, Alf had severe social phobias and health concerns and preferred to spend most of his time on research beyond providing Clay with basic necessities.

More wolf than boy, something Alf recognized and didn't try to correct, Clay spent most of his childhood wandering the Appalachian Mountains, avoiding "wolf sightings" that certainly would have brought Alf unwanted scrutiny. He achieved a basic education through Alf and after learning his letters and numbers, also developmentally later, they stepped away from the usual curriculum and Clay worked for him as a research assistant or even case study when not disappeared into the mountains for months at a time.

When Clay was 17, Alf succumbed to his many illnesses. "Didn't he have a son?" Someone had asked while clearing out his cabin. "Nah. Huge, ugly dog. Might as well have been his kid, was the only thing the old hermit ever seemed to care about." Drifted back to his twitching ears as from the edge of the woods he watched everything he'd known for the past ten years disappear. They tried to trap the "dog" for almost a year but it wasn't until they brought in hunters, realizing he wasn't your typical "dog", that Clay realized he needed to leave. So he did the only reasonable thing and at eighteen years old marched his happy butt to the nearest recruiting station and enlisted in the U.S. Army. For the next seven glorious years Clay went from private and infantryman, to selections, to special forces where majority of his time was spent overseas and many of his strange quirks were able to be overlooked due to the need for boots on ground. Plus, he was very good at his job. Quirks aside.

It wasn't until he'd been in long enough to begin gaining rank, and was expected to begin more administrative rather than field work, that Clay's quirks were no longer going unnoticed. It was in the process of a court martial for behavior unbecoming of a serviceman that Clay was snatched out of the grips of the military by his now-alpha. His last couple of years have been adapting to pack-life and life outside of the military. He found himself and his strengths greatly benefited the fighters of their clan and the lead fighter's last retirement found him vying for the spot.

Appearance: Clay's Arctic Grey Wolf mother lent him the gloriously thick fur he totes in wolf form but his unknown werewolf father lent the darker grey scale coloring. He is large and muscular with a low-carried head and lighter grey ears. He retains his blue/green eyes when shifted, unlike his mother's golden ones. A feature he hates.

[Consulting_Angel]

WIP

Flynn Johnston | 28 | Male | Werewolf
Appearance: Flynn is a young man with short-medium, dark brown hair that is soft and usually brushed back, and dark, hazel-brown eyes. He stands at about 5'11", though often seems a little shorter with his relaxed posture, and he has an athletic, somewhat muscular, build that is often quite deceiving. He does not have any scars or markings... save for a fairly prominent one on his lower right abdomen, from when he had his appendix removed. He has a more rounded face shape, neither his jawline nor cheekbones particularly prominent, and is clean-shaven, which tends to make him seem younger than he is.
His wolf has mottled dark brown pelt, and bright yellow eyes. There is a white patch on his chest, and some fur is missing on his abdomen, where his scar would be in relation to his human form.

Personality: Flynn is an energetic, outgoing individual, usually always wearing a bright smile. However, he frequently loses track of time and is late more often than not - a habit that can be annoying. He's also impulsive, usually doing whatever he thinks up without thinking whether it's actually a good idea first. Flynn tries to cheer up those that are feeling down, or at the very least distracts them temporarily.
However, do not take him to be entirely dim and without a sense of... well, anything. Flynn has proven himself to be a talented and strong fighter time and time again, even if he doesn't always act like one would expect the son of the Alphas. He will be very serious if it comes down to it, and has a very strong sense of loyalty and protectiveness to his pack. Although he does have the respect of his pack, Flynn does secretly wonder and worry that he is not good enough to be Alpha when the time comes. Those who underestimate him come to regret it.

History: Flynn and his family have been a part of the same pack for generations, the role of Alpha handed down parent to child. He has grown up knowing the expectations set for him, and being trained in preparation. Due to take over as Alpha when he is 30, Flynn is uncertain that he is as ready as members of the pack say he is.
Part of the pack's tradition states that any eligible member of the pack can challenge the Alphas or the Alphas' heir for their ranking - eligible werewolves being fighters or betas - the penalty being, if losing, demotion or even being exiled from the pack. Flynn received one such challenge at the age of 25, from the pack's then-beta. To the surprise of many, Flynn won the fight, which earned the confidence of the pack members that had previously been uncertain about him.

[Dumezil]

The San Antonio Pack's territory spanned a roughly 150 mile radius that included city, urban, and desert lands. Patrolling the edges of the territory could be tricky business with it's variety of settings but luckily Clay had gotten guidance on how to place pairs according to their strengths from his now-retired mentor.

Paul and Leo, both whom preferred human form outside of full moon, patrolled the city borders with their alternates.
James and Kim, two sociable and very well presented but perfectly capable pack members, often took the urban areas with how well they could fit in both suburbia and housing developmental regardless of form.
Several of the wolves less comfortable with humans had taken over his previous area of patrolling, spending long hours loping miles through the Texas desert patrolling their much larger rural areas.

Although he spread his time throughout all the teams now, per guidance, he was currently patrolling with the rural pair as per his preferences. Instinctively he knew the assigned pair, a older and more experienced Gabriella and her younger partner who was still learning; James, were about seven miles to his east. A distance easily covered at the speed they moved, but not so close that they felt he was micromanaging.

Feelings and thoughts flicked through his mind from all the pack members, most a vague presence since he'd learned to compartmentalize. It had been overwhelming at first, never having bonded with anyone aside from quiet Alf. But he'd had years to adjust now. Ignoring most of them, Clay carefully pushed into the area beyond their border while still maintaining a distance from a neighboring, less than friendly pack's lands. The borders did not press up against each other perfectly but they did come close, and the several miles in-between was technically no-man's land. He wanted to gather updated intel on how they, like he was currently doing, pressed beyond their borders.

"Keep patrolling, keep me updated at regular intervals." He received back after sending his intent to the alpha. He could not help but take a moment to appreciate not needing radios to speak with his team and command anymore as he carefully loped into the open space. He had zero intention of getting close enough to raise alarms and instead padded through the valley lit by a waxing crescent moon, skirting brush and ignoring a nearby hare that was practically begging to be eaten. If stopped, he could easily just say he was traveling the neutral territory into town.

[Consulting_Angel]

On the outskirts of the city limits of Dallas, just within the Great Trinity Forest, was a village where the Dallas Pack resided. Focused on preserving their territory of forestry, though with a generous sprawl of urban space and cities, several of the pack members often patrolled while guised as park rangers, or - for those that preferred their wolf forms - as wolves that were protected. Those that took on patrols of the urban spaces had their own occupation to disguise as, depending on the specific area they were going to be in. Manual workers, businesspeople, someone just going for a power walk. Pack houses dotted the territory, so that pack members didn't have to travel all night back to the village, or if weather conditions took a turn and they required shelter.

For Flynn, he didn't have a specific assignment, tending to join whichever group of patrols he felt like. He didn't hand out assignments, that role belonged to Oliver, leader of the hunters and scouts. He had his own responsibilities that he had to take care of anyway, and besides, he knew Oliver knew what he was doing and the Alpha heir trusted him.

Tonight, Flynn had joined a small group to push a little beyond their borders - this time, not one of his choosing. There was neutral territory, a no man's land, that the Alphas, Roisin and Victor, Flynn's parents, had been considering pushing for the pack to take over. Not enough so that they were right up against the pack that was to the South - that would just be asking for trouble - but enough for a small expansion. It wasn't that the pack particularly needed it, but it was more of a case of wanting to have it before someone else decided to try and take it. And if someone else took it, what if they wanted to try and expand into their territory? It was just... preventative.

As the group arrived, they agreed - split up a few miles and report back any findings. Other wolves in the area, any notable landmarks and the like. They did not often venture into this space, after all. Flynn waved, watching as the others, Rhett, Ophelia and Harvey, sprinted off in various directions, and then he changed back into his wolf form to set off. If he could have hummed in this form, then he would have. He wasn't particularly fond of having to patrol on his own, but he didn't mind it occasionally, and this was important.

Around half an hour later, Flynn caught an unfamiliar scent in the air. He internally grimaced, as he stood still to figure it out. Another wolf, one not of his pack. Maybe he'd be able to drive it back. Deciding to continue on, Flynn carefully followed the scent.

[Dumezil]

Clay had not traveled long before he realized he was no longer alone. The other wolf's scent was downwind but it was still there, present when the shifting sage breezes changed directions ever so slightly. He continued to silently monitor the other teams from a distance without alerting them of his own situation, not wanting to cause alarm over what seemed to be a single other wolf.

Like this situation, if it was any other team or wolf aside from himself.

Knowing that he had already certainly been scented and that the other wolf was possibly part of their neighboring pack, Clay opted not to try anything too tactical. Relations had been strained and from what information he knew from his position and from his alpha, they had not interacted much in the past fifteen years. Trying anything stupid now could devolve into an extremely dangerous situation that could affect the entire pack.

So he continued padding on, adjusting his pace and direction just slightly so that their paths would cross if they both continued in the same direction. He was not doing anything wrong, he was simply traveling into town after all. It was not long before the scent grew stronger and the ruff of Clay's neck bristled. With a few calming breaths he emptied his mind, compartmentalizing the issue so as not to one, alert the rest of the pack and two, not cause any issues if there was a chance this meeting wouldn't turn into one. It was neutral territory after all, no real need to fight.

The packs hadn't met in years. Clay was unfamiliar with their members as he'd never met them, coming to his own pack well after the two neighboring groups had ceased contact. He imagined the alphas at least were on speaking terms over phone, but there'd been no meetings or collaborations as far as he was aware of. He'd never liked it. But it had been made clear to him that it was one topic he could not broach.

Clay froze when the other figure came into view, very carefully trying to maintain a neutral position and not appear either a threat or a weakness for the newcomer to take advantage of. Instead, silently, he looked over the new figure with carefully neutral graze. His flaring nostrils gave away only slight surprise as he recognized that the other wolf, in fact, was more dominant. What was a high ranking wolf doing all the way out this area with zero fighters to have his back. He'd throw a fit if his alpha ever insisted on something like that.

Although the other wolf's clear difference in hierarchy, Clay did not move. He might be alpha, or soon to be alpha- but he wasn't Clay's alpha. And Clay did not give away any indication that he knew of the hierarchical difference. Only a fight, after all, could prove that.

[Consulting_Angel]

Flynn loped on at a steady pace - he didn't want to appear eager to encounter this new wolf, but he also didn't want to come across as completely disinterested. He was a little excited, of course, despite the stories he'd heard about the nearby pack, but he knew to be cautious as well. Yes, this was going to be one of those moments that he'd have to remain serious. He represented his own pack, after all. He wondered if he should report this upcoming encounter - or perhaps just see how it went.

Soon enough, the other wolf was in view. Flynn kept walking, approaching the figure, until they were about ten feet apart, and then he halted. He kept a neutral stance, if trying to excuse some sort of authority. He was going to be Alpha in a couple of short years, after all.
He did not recognise the other wolf, but then, he wouldn't have recognised anyone from the other pack. Despite his position, Flynn had not met anyone from the opposing pack - or he didn't remember meeting them if he had.

Still, observing the other wolf, Flynn could tell that he was of a high ranking, not quite Alpha, but definitely up there. Possibly someone well trusted - he must be, if he was out here, surely. And not submissive. Flynn stood there in silence for a while, not entirely sure what to say. He hadn't been trained on this. He wasn't looking for a fight, and they weren't in either one's territory, so there was no real reason to. But he also doubted that they'd part without at least speaking. Very well, Flynn decided, he would start the conversation.

"Not usual wolves from different packs encounter each other out here." Flynn said. He hadn't heard of an encounter in a long time, even in this neutral territory. Or maybe it was something that no one tells him.

[Dumezil]

The mottled brown wolf with striking yellow eyes showed absolutely no fear, which immediately stuck out to Clay. He was younger than him but not by much- definitely a grown man. And he exuded an air of confidence, curiosity, and openness which threw the veteran fighter far more than fear or even aggression would have. He was used to being met with negative reactions through his presence and in his role, even by humans. In his old unit it was not until he'd proven himself tactically and technically proficient in the fight that people began to trust him or realize there was more going on in the big man's head than hulk smash. Same for when he'd arrived in this pack, now a couple of years prior. Maybe if he'd been born into the pack he would have known who this wolf was but unfortunately, standing there now ten feet apart, he could only guess.

Clay's instincts warned him that all was not as it seemed but he forced himself into a posture that mimicked the newcomer's, albeit somewhat stiffly. To a less experienced fighter, the lack of fear and open curiosity might have signaled a vulnerability or easy opportunity. To Clay, it signaled risk. That he would not be able to pin down golden eyes' capabilities or predict him easily.

Tilting his head at the stranger's voice, Clay forced the human side of his brain to begin working again. Social customs were not a strong suit of his but he felt himself drawn to respond to this stranger who had fallen outside of his realm of expectations in several ways.
"I do not know that they ever have." He responded, tone neutral. Surprisingly, he felt the need to elaborate beyond that. "I am Clay. I was curious to see if the valley led into town." More like a ravine. With high sand and stone walls cut deep with rain water during the rainy season. A bad place to get cornered, but potentially a good place for ill intentioned enemies to hide.

[Consulting_Angel]

Eyes carefully watching for any subtle moves and expressions, anything to give away the fact that the other wolf was caught off guard by his own demeanor and approach. Flynn knew he was very unconventional, and occasionally used it to his advantage, to have others underestimate him. But, he also used it to hopefully diffuse tension and keep things at least neutral, despite having been trained and told to be intimidating and aggressive when encountering wolves from another pack. It was perhaps the one thing Flynn did not agree with.

As the other wolf changed his stance to more match his own, and then spoke, replying, Flynn was slightly surprised. Particularly when the other wolf had also introduced himself, and even offered an explanation as to why he was there. Clay. Flynn would keep that in mind.

"Not recently, anyway." Flynn mused, before introducing himself as well. "Flynn. I..." he wondered if he was meant to say why he was out here. The real reason was not great - scouting out in the hopes that the land was good enough to expand the territory into. That information was definitely not something he could risk being taken to the other pack. "I was just scouting. Seeing what lies out here." he added. Half the truth.
"I would not be surprised if it does. Lead into town." Flynn added, finding himself curious to know. But perhaps that would be considered too far to go for now. On his own anyway.