Artok Arrluk limped his way over mountains and through fields. As he always did. Body littered with scars testament of a true survivor. A man been given a shit hand and changed it up. He did his best with what the gods had sought to give him. Which bitterly was scraps.

He found himself at the edge of a pack lands. And he stared at the border line. Didn't cross. Did he want to try and live with others be a part of something. Or was his bitter heart too fsr gone amd had no room. Questions he couldn't answer.

He lifted his head and howled out for an audience at least. Then schooled his face into a blank expression and waited.

The call at her borders was a voice she thought she knew, once. 
A male's voice, that sounded so eerily close o a younger version of a man she had last seen on her death day worlds away from Mythris...
A man she didn't think would recognize her without the scars she once bore, if it was even him-!
As soon as she heard it though, Nyra took off towards the border with haste, eventually stopping dead in her tracks for a long moment as she saw the man waiting--

She always wondered what had become of him after that day...But was it him? Or was this man just eerily similar? 
Nyra forced down the emotions writhing in her gut and chest, instead placing an expression of neutrality and intrigue upon her features as she drew closer to the man, until she stood about a full length away with her tail high over her hips, "I am Nyra, sovereign leader of Hildibrandr." Did he know who she was? Did he recognize her, if this was indeed the man she once knew?
"State your business, ókunnugur." 

---

For those reading, ókunnugur is the Icelandic word for 'stranger' according to Google Translate! <333

Artok was a younger man. He believed there was reincarnation for those he deserved it. But wasn't sure he had ever been. But it was moments like today he wondered. Golden eyes cut to the impressive war chief in front of him.

Her name echoed on a memory that felt groggy and filled with fog. He thought of scars and tasted metal.

Hello Warchief. I'm Adlartok Arrluk, looking to be of assistance. I look broke. But I manage better than most. I'm a fair hunter. Been in a few fights in my time, can handle myself just fine.

---

Do I need to put him in for reincarnation if he came off site?

---

I don't believe so, ''Reincarnation'' is for if a character has died here on vivarium and their player wishes to keep them going! To my understanding anyway :>

Warchief was not a title she herself had worn in lifetimes, but the old wolf she knew had known her under such a title, in her memory - also assuming she was not wrong-

I'm Adlartok Arrluk

It had to be him! 
Younger though, maybe? 
When she herself arrived here first, she was not physically as old as when she had died...
"Warchief was a title I wore lifetimes ago..." She uttered softly, after he had finished speaking, "My name was Fury, back then." She added in that same softness, with a small, tired smile, assuming if this was the same man, just in a younger body, that this knowledge might jog his memory of the distant past, if those memories were even there at all! 

But she is not him...

"I am in need of more warriors, if you feel that is your calling." Nyra mused, "But if you would rather have a different job, there are other options." She added, her tail swaying softly a couple times above her hips.

Artok tilted an ear forward. Studying her perhaps more boldly than he would have before. But not in a conscious effort to cause problems, but because he felt like he knew her. He broke his gaze and stared at the ground thinking.

Fury. Scars and then death. And pain. He remembered the skin in his teeth the fur. Bloodstains on the ground. Old and weary. But then his mind grew tired.

hmm he uttered it quietly.

Perhaps I've known you a lifetime ago. Warrior is fine. I know my limp is cause for concern, but I adapted.

Perhaps I've known you a lifetime ago

She could accept that much, she supposed; It felt too cruel to attempt to force him to remember as vividly as she seemed to...

Satisfied with his additional acceptance of being a warrior, Nyra smiled warmly and turned herself towards the insides of her empire with an invitational wave of her tail; "Then you shall be one of my Radningar. Welcome to Hildibrandr, Adlartok." Welcome back being the unsaid words.
With that, she would wait for his paws to cross her borders before leading the way further into the territory.

The memories mayhap come in time. Artok certainly felt older than his body and birthday offered. But he had merely assumed years of being solitary aged him. Perhaps he'd been wrong. A mystery for a different day.

He blinked and nodded. Heavy paws over a border line. It felt a bit like coming home. Aa soft snort at his sentimentality and he pressed forward. The hitch in his step always present. The pull of ragged sinew and muscles.