@Lecter. I'm thinking Tyrande called him to talk to him, considering she knows what makes wolves tick, she'll want to talk about Jinx ^-^
Ima miss Jinx, such a great character... And on another note, this is Tyrande's last day of heat, so it'll be faint, but it'll still be there.
The toxicologist waded out of the lake and shook off whatever scent of toxins she had left. After shaking off excess water, she tipped back her head and howled for their beta, and alpha's mate, Lecter.
It was a bold move, considering their history, but Tyrande knew what was happening to Jinx. And she knew Lecter was her mate. Despite their friction, Tyrande legitimately worried for the shaman. The witch waited for him to appear.
<3
His energies had dwindled, due to smaller amounts of of oxygen during his nightly slumber. Yet the shaman forced himself in patrols, though he left the hunting to the younger wolves upon the Spine. When Tyrande's voice rose in a summons, Lecter did not immediately stir, contemplating ignoring her for the present.
But he did not allow himself this luxury; lifting himself to his paws, he trotted to her location, sides heaving with exertion. Icy glare raked her face; he would wait only a moment for her to speak before he departed.
Tyrande felt the daggers of his stare dig into her skin. She made a soft sigh and turned to Lecter, she seemed to glance away for a second before looking at him, bearing an expression of genuine sympathy. She was... unsure. She didn't know how bad Jinx's predicament effected the poor male, but the one thing she was sure of, was that the pack needed him. If Lecter turned his back. Then Jinx's work would be pointless. If he couldn't see that...
She would use this to her advantage.
She slowly started up a conversation. "I'm sorry about Jinx."
Hopefully Lecter wouldn't turn away, because the only power Tyrande had right now, was words.
Nares flared and hackles prickled at the Theta's insinuation of apology, as if he was in need of the pack's pity. He had never trusted Tyrande, and now that she was the first wolf of Ouroboros to extend him sympathy, his suspicions ran cold.
A gentle voice spoke then, suggesting that his own ire and grief currently clouded his perception of the matter, and at length a long sigh slipped from his lips. " As am I."
Tears burned in his eyes suddenly; Lecter fought them away with a savage anger. He would not show weakness before his wolves, least of all Tyrande.
Tyrande, for once, was legitimately dumbstruck.
She blinked at Lecter's eyes, which she could tell threatened to spill tears, by the way they grew glassy. She glanced into the water and stared across to the other end of the lake.
"I... I want you to know something, Lecter... And please don't get angry.
"I know that it's eating away at you. I can tell, the way you defend her, protect her, but your eyes still betray your agony. I'm... worried."
She looked back at him, the worry in her eyes making them glow a soft light. "You... Aren't thinking of suicide, are you?"
He was angered that he had been so transparent, but in the next moment he sighed heavily and lowered aching haunches to the ground; his body had not been tended properly, so focused had he been upon Jinx. But his eyes remained possessed of the same fervency that buoyed his body, even through days of little sleep and sustenance.
Still mistrustful of Tyrande's newfound affection toward him, the shaman regarded her wearily. "Ouroboros must have a leader, even after she is ... gone." Chin lifted with a fleeting spark of defiance, of dominance. "So my answer is no. I will die soon, Tyrande; that is not a secret. But not before I appoint a leader, or a pair of them, who will tend to Jinx's beautiful lands as she was not able."
If this was the toxicologist's bid for leadership, she was making a poor show of it.
She flicked her tail in annoyance, which corresponded with her expression. "I see. So you're abandoning us at the mercy of some other wolf."
Her anger flared, but the only way you could tell was the narrowing of her pupils and the spark of blue that burned from underneath the violet.
"I never expected you to become such a quitter."
As he had somehow expected, Tyrande's tempers flared, but the Beta had no patience left in him. "Down!" he demanded with a snarl, eyes flashing as he leapt to his paws with alacrity. When she had presumably complied, he drew near; there was not intention in his heart to harm Tyrande, for her own soul spoke that which she held as truth, but her biting tongue must be silenced.
"I have seen almost nine years, Tyrande. I will not live forever. My death will is not abandonment, it is the natural order of things." Icewater eyes bored into her own. "It is something you must accept. You will not live forever, and nor shall I. Nor would I wish it."
Tyrande instantly lowered involuntarily. She always did that, and she never knew why. Lecter's wrath terrified her.
"I understand that, Lecter!" she wanted to growl, but she sedated her anger. "But you've been wasting away ever since she first showed signs of death. You used to walk with a purpose, but now you walk like you are willing death to come!"
She took whatever beating she would receive, and she looked away from his gaze. "Did you two really share a bond that strong?"
He did not beat her; Lecter listened to that which Tyrande spoke, tail slashing agitatedly behind him. Yet he backed from her presently, allowing her to rise if she so chose. "When you are forced to watch someone whom your heart desires die, the frustration and the grief, the anger ... it will take its toll, Tyrande." Had she suffered as he, the witch would not question him.
"When I am gone, I wish you to have the contents of my den. What you do not use, destroy. There are years of fetishes and bones there. I trust what herbs you find will be useful in your endeavors." Falling silent, the pale Beta awaited her response. She angered him, and he had never fully trusted the woman, but the knowledge that lay in the dark recesses of his den could only be used by one who knew how to wield them.
The young toxicologist was taken aback. She was graced with this task, and in her eyes, it seemed... like a great honor. But her question wasn't why her, since it was quite obvious, but actually Why do you trust this to me?
However, she was confused, when Lecter said whom your heart desires. She desired nobody. At least, not yet. The most she could desire for would be Sitri, but they were just friends, right? Sitri thought of her as a friend. And besides, who could love someone who was so close to Death's tools as her...
"I'm... I'm afraid I'll never go through what you have had to, Lecter... I am sorry. I had not viewed it from that perspective...
"I will do what you wish. I will deal with your trinkets and treasures as I see fitting... And your... Your herbs are to be taken with gratitude... I... Thank you, Lecter. It is an honor..."
Surprise reflected in her eyes, but Lecter did not explain his decision. Suddenly weary, he gave the young toxicologist a brusque nod. "Bury a few of them with me," he muttered with a grim humour. "I may need them where I am going." Watching her quietly, the Beta waited for Tyrande to speak again, before he departed her and the preparations for his death, which would soon become a reality.
Tyrande nodded in return, "Of course, Lecter. I will." She watched as the white shaman leave. She suddenly felt tired. Oh, you old coot... Even still, I'm not sure whether to trust you or not.
She turned and headed in the direction of her den. It looks like I'm going to have to pick healing back up again... I don't think I've played with actual medicine in ages... With the final note on her mind, she calculated the number of pots she needed to make for the move, her mind still muddled and confused.