[ P ] Beginner's Guide

After the fish eating contest had incapacitated his lover, Nicharion decided to let him recover in peace and take it as an opportunity to carry out his official duties at the parade. While he searched for someone to keep him company on patrol, the competition still lingered on his mind - mostly as the gruesome spectacle it has devolved to towards the end, spurring many onlookers to escape in disgust. Ah, and Crow's valiant, yet sadly insufficient performance... it was perplexing, how he could put such effort into something so unimportant and whimsical. In the case of any other wolf, Nicharion would have deemed it simpleminded. But with bias he wasn't even conscious of, Bastien he found admirable. And perhaps deserving of a fruity snack upon his return; something light and as scantly similar to fish as possible.

Finally, his wandering brought him before two fellow soldiers. One of them brought reports of a recent promotion to mind, the other appeared to be lower rank with how he carried himself. Nicharion approached them with clear purpose, clearing his throat to draw their attention. "You're that new major, I presume?" He looked at the green-eyed male inquisitively for a few seconds, before his attention finally shifted to grace the underling. "Go enjoy the parade, soldier. I'll keep your commander company." After issuing the command, the red brute glanced to the side, pretending to be distracted by something in the crowd in case the soldier had enough sense to double-check if his direct superior was fine with him following a different officer's orders in his presence. Not that the greenhorn major had much room to maneuver; disagreeing would risk causing a scene, which would surely bring harsh consequences given the spirit of this event. It would be prudent to just play along.

Besides, it's not as if there was anything malicious in wanting to have a chat between two officers.

manip + code: clae

A sigh escaped him, his tail thrashing while events he didn’t quite agree with flourished around him as if a war hadn’t just happened here all that long ago. It was despicable and insulting that any semblance of victory had been stomped down under their feet just because of some land they couldn’t even see from here. Clearly, though, with the new faces that looked so garish among the crowds it wasn’t a lie. Mutated coats that hit his perfectionist nerves seemed to be everywhere where they hadn’t been before, making him grimace at the pure lack of symmetry tarnishing his eyes no matter where they roamed. He didn’t wish to fathom why they were all so hideous, what heinous inbreeding might have transpired to get them that way, but he stilled his tongue from lashing each time one brushed against him while meandering around the festivities.

As much as he hated all of this, there was a faint desire to search for relatives among the crowd, expecting at least his hippie of a mother to be here somewhere enjoying the harmony. Though he’d never say it out loud, he missed her and his father no matter how much he viewed them poorly with each year that passed. With each poor view they mounted on his shoulders in one way or another. His father had retired at a rather crucial time and vanished into the land he had been fighting against. It still stung him, questioning why his father had fought at all if he would fall to live under Jacob’s rule.

Still, he saw no fur or caught any scent of those sharing his blood and he would not cross into Aberdeen to up those chances as he mindlessly listened to a report from an underling, he had no interest in listening to right now. He was about to open his mouth to dismiss him back into the crowd when someone else spoke out of turn and caused his gaze to sharply shift to a man of darkened rust. “I am,” he started, though any bit of calm that might have been there was bent when the man gave those of his own squad an order, causing a coldness to haunt his emerald hues but his demeanor to remain calm.

His gaze cast to the subordinate who seemed all the more uncomfortable than he had before, looking between the two majors with uncertainty and halfway to pissing himself. “Don’t lose your composure so easily, unless you wish to lose your place in my ranks, boy. Now get out of my sight and back to where you are stationed,” Arran commanded in turn, finding the younger one’s twitchiness far more offensive than someone trying to outmaneuver him since it affected him far more directly in the eyes of his peers. In a heartbeat, the soldier ran off to leave the higher ranks with a dip of his head.

“What are you trying to pull?” his attention shifted to the other Major, giving him a sideway glance while keeping his voice down.

Art By Raven, Code by Ashon

If looks could kill, this guy likely would be a serial killer. Fortunately, aside from this tell, his temper seemed not to be so easily provoked. Nicharion couldn’t say he was here to make friends just yet, but either way he’d rather avoid making enemies, at the very least. It’s rarely a prudent course of action.

“New guy? Hard to imagine anyone who’s been through the war would be so.. jittery.” he quipped as he watched the wolf depart hastily. Not much of a soldier it seems.. but a shapely backside, if nothing else. Unfortunate for him that not all officers are appreciative of eye candy.

It didn’t take long for Arran’s scrutiny to be directed his way instead, causing the red brute to grin. “Why so suspicious? Maybe I just want to get to know my colleague.” he shrugged, then motioned with his head to point in a direction, so that the other male could walk beside him, before he started to move. Considering the young major’s temper, merely expecting him to follow probably wouldn’t have gone well.

“Sordid affair, isn’t it?” The change of subject was rather sudden, but a divisive topic is far more efficient catalyst for learning more about another than simple exchange of pleasantries. “Not so long ago we were evaluated on our ability to kill the other side, now we’re expected to play nice and draw no attention.. while the ones who have gotten themselves killed get all the praise.” In truth, Nicharion didn’t really care; at the end of the day, the festivities were more enjoyable than the war. If anything bothered him, it would be that the two kings announced war when it suited them and made peace when it suited them, at no personal cost, and the wolves who actually carried it all out, fought, bled, killed and died, were expected to merely follow along, no questions asked. But he wasn’t a soldier out of loyalty to the king, it was merely a job. A job not unlike mercenary work, but with far more perks.

He stopped at a food stand, quickly glancing over the offerings before regarding the vendor with a pleasant smile. “Two mouse skewers, if you would.” Who could say no to a column of crispy grilled rodents on a stick? He grabbed one and tossed it at the fellow officer. “Catch! They taste better than they look.”

manip + code: clae

A sigh would flare his nostrils at the mention of the newer recruit being far from stoic, knowing had to agree but not wanting to in the slightest. Though he could sympathize with the fool, he wasn’t about to as his gaze shifted to the man before him, allowing his ears to twitch slightly in recognition. “Fresh blood that barely touched the war. He was brought in for the final wave, just graduated from training as a cadet but never touched the crimson soil we fought on. So, I was told,” he answered, glaring back toward where the underling had fled. His tail twitched in displeasure, mind swimming at the fact he doubted every word. He couldn’t imagine General Faust just let the boy slide under the radar and stay out of the fight. It wasn’t like he could disprove it this moment either.

Though when the words were more directed at him, his tail gave one thrash before his shoulders lost some tension, returning his focus forward toward the crowd. “Can't say that I'm used to other’s wanting to form fellowships in this field of work. I suppose that isn’t the worst little surprise I could acquire today,” he smirked slightly, admittedly not used to others being cordial. Only one woman came to mind and even that was only because he had approached her first and the thought of her made his cheeks warm. Thankfully fur kept it from being visible. His scent was embedded in his mind and her touch had been all too tantalizing, leaving him a little dazed as he hungered for another evening with her and he couldn’t hide that emotion entirely from his eyes, if the other looked at him now.

With the shift to their surroundings, he gave a subtle nod, evaluating the very things the other described. Nothing he said was wrong though some might find it questionable where loyalty lied. He was not one of them for now, already having enough wolves he suspected to be traitors in his mitts and was just waiting to watch slip. Fortune would favor him eventually if he allowed patience to be one of his virtues. Too bad he was rotten at that.

“Politics. A game of strategy with too many pawns and not enough progress. I betrayed my homeland to prevent Jacob’s rule and even with our forces being victors in bloodshed, Jacob still gained what he desired. A war should have come out with only one King alive, not a land split between two. We might as well have not had a war at all with this festival here now,” he said bitterly, knowing what he gave up for all this and how little it mattered in the end. The siblings he harmed, the father he rejected to stay doing as he believed was right for himself and this nation. Loneliness. He gained rank but not nearly as high as he hoped as quickly as he hoped.

All bit of tension and seriousness in him would be put on hold when suddenly food was being flung in his direction, entirely throwing him off of the subject and making him forget about it entirely as his emerald gaze fixed on the skewer. Where he might have caught it gracefully had he been focused on what the other Major was doing, it smacked him square in the face and bounced up into the air like a circus show. Stumbling back a step, he snagged the stick of mice while it fell back down. A snapping sound like that of a breaking bone could be heard by how tightly his jaws bit down. His ear burned with embarrassment, though he would try to play it off as intentional as he tried to continue on casually.

Art By Raven, Code by Ashon