Sheets rustled… a deep voice curses. More sheets rustle… the same deep voice curses. There is an abrupt sound of blankets being thrown off a bed, a pause, and then a long drawn out groan, followed by a curse in the same deep voice. Wall is sitting up in his large four post bed seriously considering lying back down in his large four post bed and falling back asleep. A glance out the window tells him that it is already past noon and certainly time that he should be up and about. As his feet thumped onto the floor he was glad that he had lit a fire before collapsing into his bed the previous night. Cold floors were not fun.

 

Padding over to the wash basin, Wall reflected on the hard traveling he had done to get home and recounted his life recently. It all seemed to bleed together, almost like a dream. In the past months he had been out of the Stedding more than he had been in it, and had spent most of that time resting for his next trip out, or working on accounts for the inn. It was time to get to know the wolfkin again. His decision to spend some quality time in the Stedding was one he was looking forward to carrying out. Splashing water on his face, Wall looked up into the mirror on the wall and was nearly startled by the face that looked back at him. His hair was as long as it had ever been, reaching in a thick tangled and matted mess for his shoulders. His beard had grown long as well, long and unruly. Where there wasn’t hair, the sun had tanned his skin, and dirt had made itself a permanent resident. It was no wonder he was stared at on the rare occasions he went into a town. Well, it was time to get civilized again… Or, he chuckled a bit to himself, at least as civilized as he could get.

 

Wall walked down the stairs to the inn’s bar and common room wrinkling his nose at the state of the tub in his private bathroom. He would need to spend some time with it and a serious cleaner later on. He had not been kind to it, but he had scrubbed himself clean and straightened out the tangled mess that had engulfed his head by removing it completely. Running a hand over his smooth scalp, Wall made a mental note to be careful about burning it in the sun. His beard he kept, but had trimmed it, and now it hung in the form of long mustaches that started at his chin and rose to join each other on his upper lip. It felt good to be clean and home. Looking around the inn’s common room, he wondered if the latter was true. He saw unfamiliar faces grabbing a quick midday meal, or taking beer breaks. Well, he supposed it wasn’t against the law for the kin to grow a bit while he was gone. Smiling he looked at all his new customers and mentally added a couple tally marks to the number of kegs he would have to order in the future. Wall knew he was going to have to find Owen or Eyota and get caught up on the recent happenings.

 

Making his rounds Wall made sure that everything was in its proper place. He had gotten in just an hour or two before dawn and had gone straight to bed rather than get caught up on any work. The practice rooms were recently cleaned, the cellar was stocked. Even his personal still out back looked like he was in working order. At least his friends and employees had looked out for him. Well, it was probably Burrich that had mostly looked out for things here. His other friends probably showed their support by trying to sweet talk free drinks out of the waitresses and keeping the chairs warm and full. It would be good to see them again. He was looking forward to showing them the new recipe he had been working on. He found a way to make his stouts even thicker and had added and ingredient that he had heard claimed came from the Seanchan, thought the bean that made that wonderful smell when roasted and made a dark bitter drink when added to hot water like tea was probably just some discovery of a local farmer who wanted to fetch a higher price at market. It would be nice to share the wonderful new brew with his old friends.

 

Wall ate a quick meal in the kitchen while assuring his cook that no matter how far he traveled, his favorite meals always came from her, and grabbed a book from the steadily filling shelves in his library. Sitting back in his favorite chair, Wall decided he would read a bit before going in search of his friends. He could use an hour by the fire.

 

The big man had only gotten through a chapter or two when a shadow fell across his page and a familiar scent reached his nostrils. It appeared he wouldn’t have to wait long after all.

OOC: Here's hoping this is open for anyone to join in. If not I'll delete or edit as appropriate.

 

IC: Dawn's early light stretched across the horizon, reflecting off the lake as an orange glow until it reached Burrich where he had made a bed for himself amid the roots of a giant oak, Storm Hunter asleep beside him. Burrich awoke with a start to the first touch of the sun upon his face, he would have to kill himself to keep from being late. It would be much easier to attend to his work at the inn if he was staying there still, but lately he felt much more comfortable out here in the woods. Well, he'd just have to run then.

 

Luckily the tree he'd chosen to sleep under last night was within the Steading itself and therefore not very far from the inn. It was his task each morning to make sure the cellars were clean and bring up any kegs or casks that were needed for the day to come, as well as check on the work of the other employees. Wall had left him in charge the last time he'd left and Burrich intended to prove himself worthy. That was why he was so dilligent to be there extra early every morning to do his own chores and check the inventory against the books. Even if his training with the Rangers kept him away most nights, he could at least be there every morning to make sure the inn was running smoothly.

 

It didn't take long to finish his chores, even if he did work in a quick workout while he did it. Checking the books he saw that the inventories were correct, but they were running short on supplies. With any luck, Wall would be back soon to order more supplies. Putting the inventory records back on their shelf Burrich made his way upstairs for some quick breakfast before his true workout would begin.

 

His workout consisted of some laps around the Rangers' training area. After that he did some work with his battle axes and the pair of hand axes, working through the forms he'd been taught slowly to practice the precise movements before speeding up gradually until the axes surely sung as they spun through the air. He then took some time to practice and improve his accuracy with bow and throwing axe. Judging by the sun it was nearly an hour before noon but he chose to work that last hour before lunch on the hand-to-hand fighting techniques Owen had taught him.

 

Finally finished with his workout he rinsed off and headed back to the inn for lunch. He headed straight to the kitchen and got a meal from the cook who gestured to a chair by the fire. Turning to look where she pointed he saw that it was Wall himself that was lounging there with a book. Grinning Burrich walked up behind him, "Hey boss, you've returned. Glad to see you back!"

Why did i come here?

 

Owen had no idea what had made him seek out the Inn, it was not the sort of place his mood wanted to allow him to enjoy, and he knew that sooner or later someone would come over and want to talk to him. He pondered that thought for a moment, then decided that was not a raod he was prepared to walk right now and instead turned his mind away from that train of thought.

 

Owen had seated himself as far away from the bar as was possible, and so far no one had noticed him.Thankfully he was able to shield himself and this helped maintain his isolation. Owen knew this was not the way he should behave, especially as Wall had just returned to the Stedding, and to his Inn, but Owen did not care. He had always had a dark side to his nature and sometimes he over indulged in it, today was going to be one of those days.

 

Owen

 

The WhiteWolf

 

Ranger Leader

 

Speak to him at your peril

 

:lol:

"Hey boss, you've returned. Glad to see you back!"

 

Wall jumped up and threw his arms around the giant man, lifting him up off the ground, which was no easy feat. Wall stood nearly six and a half feet tall, and Burrich topped him by almost a head. “It’s good to see again Burrich! Thank you for doing such a good job keeping my pride and joy in good working order. I don’t know what I’d do without you.â€

 

“Probably come home to a cold hearth and an empty cellar. How long are you staying this time? We need to set aside a moment or two to go over the list of supplies.â€

 

Wall chuckled. It was good to have someone like Burrich around. He was really taking pride in his work at the inn. “We’ll have plenty of time for that. I’m going to be home for quite a while this time around. I’ve missed the wolfkin and I’ve missed home. It will be nice to stay in one place for a while.â€

 

Motioning Burrich to another chair by the fire, Wall motioned for him to wait a moment and walked down to the cellar where he had stored the keg he had brought with him when he came in last night. Because of the Hole in the Wall being built into a hill and next to a lake, it was able to have a few specially designed features that Wall was especially proud of, despute the fact that it had been Sosumo, and not himself that had designed them. The cellars were particularly deep, and the walls had cold lake water running behind them. This meant that he didn’t have to pay for expensive ice to keep things cool. The big man hefted the keg onto the dumb waiter and walked upstairs to the bar. Tapping the keg, Wall filled two large mugs and brought them to his friend, who was looking particularly happy at not having to work at the moment.

 

“I picked up a keg and a recipe while passing through the Borderlands. This stuff is almost thick enough to eat, and strong enough to make those long, cold winters seem a bit warmer and shorter. It’s a good stout brew.†Wall handed the extra mug to Burrich and the two men toasted and drank deeply, savoring the full flavor of the dark brown, almost black, liquid.

 

Wall lowered his mug and caught sight of a chair in one of the darker corners of the common room. Burrichs words washed over him without catching, and a chill ran down his spine. The man in the chair could only be Owen, but the set of his features belonged to no one Wall had ever met before. Burrich trailed off when he saw that Wall wasn’t listening and turned his face towards the corner that Wall was already walking towards.

 

Wall approached slowly, testing the air at every step to try to catch his friend’s mood. Owen looked lost in his own thoughts, and from the look on his face, the thoughts were far from pleasant. The Tracker’s caution came from a knowledge of exactly what can happen when someone who has been touched by the wolves loses touch with reality. He had seen it in several unfortunate men and once in his friend Aurin, now Eyota. It also stemmed from his knowledge of what Owen was capable of when he was in his correct state of mind. He had trained Wall for a while, and despite the incredible advantage Wall had in size and strength, Owen bested him easily and at will. If he was in a dark mood, and decided that he needed to act on it, Wall and Burrich together would be hard pressed to stop him.

 

“Owen?... Are you ok?â€

Owen's hand moved of it's own volition, coming to rest on the hilt of his sword, grasping it so tightly that his knuclkes turned white. Wall's greeting was an innocent enough one, but that was not the way Owen heard it and Wall did not know that he faced White Fang, not his friend Owen.

 

Owen's golden gaze slowly rose up to Wall's face, it was a merciless glare, one normally reserved for two legs who threatened a member of the Wolfkin. Owen held Wall's gaze, until the other man lowered his eyes and was on the verge of turning away from that unfathomable gaze when Owen indicated the chair opposite him.

 

"You ask a question, but the answer may not be the one you want to hear."

 

The voice was pitched low, and compltely without emotion, as cold as the frigid air on a winters day in the high mountains. Owen did not hear Wall's reply , his mind was wandering, walking paths that he had not trod in a long time, almost two years by his reckoning.

 

The house had been totally destroyed, not one stone left standing, and the ground around it scorched as if by some explosion. Sinking to his knees Owen felt the tears of despair welling up, threatenign to burst the iron bands that he always kept on his emothions, finally breakign forth like the head waters of a river long held back by a dam. How long he remained there he had no idea, the concept of time making no inroads on his conciousness. Eventually, many hours later, a voice roused Owen from his stupor and his tear stained face regarded the intruder. One look at Owen's face made the person back away, hands held up in front of them as if warding off an attack.

 

"I'm sorry if i am intruding"

 

The words were hardly out of their mouth before Owen was on his feet and had closed the distance between them, his hands grabbing the lapels of the man's long brown wool coat. "Where is she, what have you done to her?"

 

The mans eyes grew wide in alarm and he tried to back away from Owen, but Owen's grip could not be broken. "Tell me now, or you will suffer the same fate."

 

Slowly the man started to explain what had happened, and gradually Owen's grip slackened on his coat. When the man finally stopped talking, Owen turned away and started walking away from the devestation, the man called out to him, but Owen did not hear.

 

"Not now, not ever Wall."

 

Owen

 

The WhiteWolf

 

Ranger Leader

Nigtsfire walked from the Ranger’s training ground and made his way toward the inn. He had spent the better part of the day running Anton through the obstacle course and now it was time to unwind with a drink.

 

Upon hearing of Wall’s return the Ranger had begun to look forward to seeing his friend. Anton was coming as well but the young man had flashed him a mischievous grin when he heard that most of the Wolfkin including Owen would be there. After saying he would follow shortly Anton had run off in the direction of Owen’s treehouse.

 

Chuckling Nights shook his head and let the young man go. He would learn the hard way if he had to what happened when you messed with Owen. The afternoon was clear the sun shining down through cloudless skies.

 

Like a ghost Quickening appeared at his side from the wooded trail he followed.

 

~Hard Paws has returned Nightsfire~

 

She told him eagerly.

 

“Yes I know Quickening I am on my way to see him now.â€

 

Quickening followed him for a bit then disappeared off into the woods to hunt. As the inn drew near he could hear the sounds of voices laughing in conversation. Pushing through the main doors he immediately saw Wall in the common room standing at a table where Owen sat.

 

Nights senses immediately told him that Owen was not in a mood for merriment and that spelled bad news for Anton if he was up to no good.

 

Managing a smile he did his best to lighten the mood and walked over and clasped Wall’s big paw.

 

“Welcome back my friend you have been missed. It is good to see you home where you belong.â€

 

Owen did not move so Nights called out to Burrich for drinks to be set up so they could toast his friends return. Walking to the bar he left Wall and Owen unsure if he had interrupted a conversation or not.

One of the advantages of having been both a thief and a thiefcatcher was that he'd learned how to get in and out of houses and at things that people would rather have kept to themselves. Even though he'd given up his more larcenous ways and taken to catching people instead, there was still the odd occasion where a bit of thieving was required. In fact, some would have gone so far as to say it was desperately needed by the settlement, in Anton's opinion and that of a few others anyway. No one else was willing to risk it of course, so that was why he was stuck with it.

 

Eureka!

 

Taking up the flute and secreting it within his coat, Anton was quick to leave. If he hung about too long, Owen would be able to sniff his spore out of the air. Thieving from a Wolfkin and then ensuring that you couldn't be caught was alot more difficult he found. Of course, he did have something else to do before he left altogether. The ladder. That had been something else that had been talked about, it seemed odd for a man to live in a tree and a few had dared to dream of perhaps sabotaging his ladder to give him a bit of a jolt. That was what the saw was for and moving down about a third of the way, Anton precariously worked away at the back of the ladder so the way the pressure would be distributed would make it more likely to snap.

 

Stopping at halfway through, Anton worked his way back up and then made his way down using the tree branches. Dropping, he walked away a bit before dusting himself off. First he'd put away the saw, then he'd head to the inn where he could show off his prize. Carefully of course, that was where Owen was and he didn't want to Owen to realise he'd been up there. Not until the ladder had snapped on him anyway and he'd gotten a bit of a shock.

 

Entering the inn, he walked over to the bar where John was, confident that there would be no discovering of the flute by scent, his own overpowering it. Getting a drink with the man while he was there, Anton opened his coat slightly to show him what he had hidden there which got a look from John. Closing the coat again, Anton grinned at him. "Oh come on, as if you haven't wanted to do it."

 

 

Anton Averdal

Farpaw

 

 

OOC: Steve told me to do it! *points at Nightsfire* :D

The words stayed in Wall’s head as John came over to greet him. Wall stood up to shake his friend’s hand, glad to see him. John moved off to the bar. Wall sat back down and looked towards his old friend and mentor. “I don’t know what happened, and I can’t know what’s going on inside your head, but I want to help.†Wall stood up to join John at the bar. “I remember once there was a wanderer who had a lot of trouble that he wasn’t dealing with very well. A Ranger took him under his wing and got him through it. The wanderer never forgot that. He’s looking to return the favor if the opportunity arises.†Silence followed him to the bar.

 

The young wolfkin next to John was ginning way too much and was just closing his coat as Wall walked over to join them. Taking the drink John offered him, Wall eased himself onto a stool. “Whatever that is, it’s got the potential to get you into more hot water than you can possibly imagine.†The man looked at him with an expression that told the world ‘Even if I had done anything wrong, which I haven’t, there is no way I’ll get caught.’ That may have been true if his plan hadn’t been to show whatever that was to everyone in the bar. “I’m sorry, I forgot my manners. My name is Wall. This is my inn. You are welcome anytime you need a drink, some food, some company, or just a place to unwind. And if that object in your coat is the cause of someone whooping you across this common room and back, and that butt whooping results in any damage at all to my inn…†Wall gave him a look that withered countless troublemakers and would-be attackers back in Tar Valon, and had been the cause of one young guard dirtying his uniform, “you are welcome to deal with me.†Wall stood up so the man could get a good idea of exactly what 6’5†and nearly 300 pounds of Wall looked like. Wall drained his mug and as he set it down, let his hands contract, leaving the malformed hunk of metal on the bar. The newcomer’s eyes widened a bit and he turned away, right into a stern looking Burrich. Wall couldn’t think of how his message could better be punctuated.

 

Then he turned to John and grinned like a schoolboy and winked so the other man couldn’t see. “How’s life friend? I see new faces everywhere, and it is good to see the old ones too.†John shook his head and grinned a bit.

 

“I think you may have overplayed that one Wall. I didn’t know some one walk casually away that quickly. Though if Owen finds out what he has in his coat, you are going to be the least of his worries.â€

 

Wall’s eyes tried to jump out of his skull. “That’s what he has in there!? The way Owen looks right now, he’d better teleport back up that tree and put it back.†Wall signaled for new mugs to be brought and told the bartender to fill them with the new beer he had brought back. “Anyway, while the calm lasts, give this a try and let me know if I should invest the six months it takes to make it properly. And both of you catch me up on what I’ve missed.â€

Burrich wasn't working but he didn't mind going to get drinks for his friends. By the time he returned John and Anton were sitting at the bar talking. He saw Anton reveal something to John that he had hidden in his coat but couldn't see what it was. On his way to join them he saw Wall cross the room to speak to them also and only then noticed Owen sitting in a corner.

 

Burrich had brought extra drinks and was tempted to bring one to Owen but one look at teh Ranger Leader's face changed his mind. With that dark look in his eyes Burrich knew he was in no mood for casual conversation. Besides, if he had turned Wall away than he certainly wasn't going to be interested in talking to a Guardian like him. So instead he joined the other three men at the bar.

 

A he approached he heard the tail end of Wall's threat. Anton turned directly into him. Burrich watched with amusement, satisfied with himself for keeping it off his face and scent, as Anton slowly turned his head up to look his mentor in the eye. Looking down at the man he'd been training he kept a very stern look on his face. "Wall has entrusted me with keeping the peace in his inn. I don't know what you've got there but if it disturns this peace I'll be forced to act and you know as well as I how that will end."

Scar waited till the rabit put it head down then moved his paw one more step towards his prey, then freezing as the rabit again raised its head. A few slow moments and quiet steps more and he lept out of the bush and sunk his teaths into the squeeling rabit, holding on till it was quiet. After finishing his meal he licked of some blood from his paw and then throted on to find somewhere to curl up for a rest.

 

As he troted down a path for deers his ears caugth a sound and he moved off the path, peeking out through the edge of the threes, seeing a two legged pup climb the three of the leader, the mild breeze coming his way alerted him of smells talking of foolishness.

 

Tilting his head he waited then quiet as a shadow followed in safe distance, it migth be some while since he lost his family yet he hadnt forgot how to solve the foolish acts of pups who often got them in trouble. The best staying behind till the rigth moment and get a clue on what was up, as the forest closed around them for a moment he where able to move closer and got the sniff back that something smelled of the leader, thinking back flashes of images playing over again solved the ridle for him. He sliped futher back as the forest opened up to show the gathering place of the two legged.

 

He watched the pup go inside and then crept under a nearby bush where he would be out of sigth, laying down he rested his head on his forepaw as he sent a message to Ice, it was her pup who had had a toy taken, if need be it would be her rolle to play mother if she so prefered. Untill then thoug he would keep an eye out, pups always needed follow up and a lesson from time to time, if not then they would never grow up. His ears flexed as he remembered home and some of his own fourleged offspring.

It was sometime after Wall had left before Owen even noticed, his mind still wandering the roads of his recent past, it was a habit he had tried hard to break, but so far without much success. It had been much easier to ignore the control that past events had on him when Iris had been around, she had had a way of soothingeven his most darkest of moments and was the only reason he had not succumbed when his sister had been killed.

 

Just then Ice interrupted his dark musings, but it was not a message that brought any relief to Owen, instead it had the exact opposite effect.

 

A thief? Amongst the Wolfkin?

 

Rage started to build inside Owen, a rage that burnt away all other concerns and memories. Not in all his time with the Wolfkin had he known any of them to sink so low as to steal from one of their own, or anyone else for that matter, not that two legs counted, not now anyway.

 

The sound of Owen’s chair crashing to the ground drew every eye in the Inn, but by the time their heads head turned to identify the sound, Owen had closed the gap to the thief and his hand was reaching out for the mans throat just as his head was turning in Owen’s direction. One hand closed around his throat, the other reached for the dagger at his belt and swiftly Owen moved in for the kill.

 

Stepping around behind him, Owen released his grip on the mans neck, grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing the man up on tip toes, then placed the razor sharp edge of his dagger against the mans throat “Give me one reason why I should not take your life here and now you dirty, stinking thiefâ€.

 

Owen did not raise his voice, his words spoken in a quiet manner, and all the more threatening for that.

 

Owen

 

The WhiteWolf

 

Ranger Leader

What was it with all the big people and shows of strength? Burrich had pounded into him quite forcefully the lesson that he was no less dangerous when using weighted lathes than with axes, and now this man was crunching up a perfectly good mug with his hand. Not to mention everyone suspecting the worst of him, sure he might have been Cairhienin but that wasn't a crime was it? Then the mention of Owen not being in the best mood, which meant he was more than half wolf tonight, brilliant.

 

A crash, turning and half throttled as he was grabbed by the throat, Anton found the situation plummeting from the heights of success to the depths of being menaced by a dagger held by the leader of the Rangers who was more than just a tad incensed. He knew. Someone had ratted him out! It must have been one of the wolves, one of the ones that didn't have a sense of humour and most likely bereft of their hearing as well. Not that he had much time to contemplate this as he then had his neck released in favour of his right arm being twisted and him put up on his tiptoes.

 

Why of all nights did it have to be one when Owen was in a foul mood? Cursing the Wheel, Anton decided against speaking but instead used the way of the wolves to communicate. An image of a younger wolf sneaking up on an older one that was sleeping and nipping its tail before running away. A prank, a joke, not theft as such. Pushed up on his toes higher, Anton worked on a second image of Owen playing the flute in the middle of a forest and everything scurrying for cover followed by more images of more wolfish pranks to communicate that he hadn't intended to keep it.

 

As he bombarded Owen with his flurry of frantic thoughts, Anton's free hand fished the flute out of his coat subtlely and waved it for someone to take, using his body to hide the motion. Someone needed to take it or he was going to have to hand it back right there. And if he handed it back in the inn, then Owen would no doubt feel like gracing them with a tune.

 

 

Anton Averdal

Farpaw

 

 

OOC: Dammit Steve, save me :P Anyone for that matter.