it could hardly come as a surprise to anyone to find the ghost lingering about her woods, always haunting. it was still so achingly wrong to see them abandoned in such a manner even if she could not find it in her heart to hold any ill will towards maegi over it, her decision had made sense even if it went against her damned heart to admit it. the only meager silver lining would be that as it was now uninhabited she could actually set paw in the woods once more. it was a small victory and not something she'd ever choose over the pack's existence yet nevertheless she would exploit this upside as much as she could.
she had returned to courtfall previously and spent much of her time amongst those of the vale like she should. it's not as if she'd moved into the woods or anything, she just would grant herself the occasional visit. plus, bertók needed it. the raven had followed her home and although she'd been so guiltily relieved he'd chosen to pick her over the woods; it was clear that he was struggling. this place ultimately belonged to the winged shadows, the wolves had only ever been their guests and it was understandable that the separation from his kingdom was difficult on her companion. so she accompanied him home every...now and then. it was better this way, let him adjust to the sharp mountains slowly.
inhaling deeply, she slips with a fluid confidence that came truly forward when roaming the familiar trails of home. bertók drifts alongside, lighter too and even slipping forth the occasional caw - they'd become much rarer since their departure. yet...noise, some awful cry that threatened memories on the edge of her vision along with the unmistakable aroma of blood. an instinctive groan lifts from the depths of a shrunken stomach whilst fair hairs bristle. how had she not noticed, too lost in a reverie to notice the unfamiliar wolf lingering tauntingly on the breeze.
it was like a slap to the face, she'd known wolves would soon strut through the forests like they had any rights to which they actually did but whatever... yet it still came as a pained shock. she moves mindlessly in the direction, shifting through the shadows with the silent grace of the phantoms she so resembled. eventually she sees him, detaching smoothly from the dark; shifting air as they tugged desperately at the edges of her fur until she stood pale in the face of a dark, gangly man. the ravaged form he tore from had evidently been the source of the scream and she regards him with a glacial stare. orbs jet black in the shelter of ancient trees looking down on them. the want to chase him from the forests is so strong she has to nip her own tongue to deny her mind its want to allow hackles to rise and teeth to be bared. no, she does not seek enemies and so watches with a silent indifference until he may speak. not a glance is spared towards his meal so hopefully he does not presume her intentions are to rob him. that was the last of her worries now.
it relieves her more than she'd like to admit when he grows more neutral in his demeanour, she does not wish to care about the attitude of some stranger yet knows all too well that had she walked away after his initial attitude it would've bothered her for hours on end. not because she'd be hurt or anything, but at the injustice of it all considering where they stood. still, pathetic of her to feel such a way all the same.
her tail swishes as ears tilt forward with undeniable curiosity when he speaks. no, she didn't believe they'd met either yet something from that sentence did stick out. nightwalkers....where had she?- yet he speaks once more before she can fully assess the scattered memories throughout her mind. hela? that too rang a bell and once more was just out of reach of making sense to her, dammit there was little so frustrating! brows furrow as her frown deepens, if he referred to her as 'girl' it likely meant she were young right, and of course tundra being who she was, had never gone beyond rowan when it came to blackfeather's youth. in fact she'd purposefully avoided them all until the boy had actively sought her out. flicking her tail once more; she offers up a small, somewhat sheepish shake of her head. she had helped lead blackfeather and couldn't even recall the name's of what could have been their potential future. then again, he had never mentioned her hailing from these woods she'd just presumed..."the name doesn't sound completely foreign yet i cannot put a face to it...why?"
and it was just as she uttered that that she suddenly remembered. not who the girl was no, but why the scent of the man and the name nightwalkers had stood out to her because of course - "oh you're one of vengeance's wolves" a brow arches as a bemused smile now graces her features. so he'd gone ahead and successfully brought his little group to life then. of course the scent lingering about them was more varied now yet like vegeance's pungent stench, it retained that of the assassin's they supposedly were. the slight tang of none other than death, and of course it struck memories that went further back too because had tundra not lived amongst and had a scent similar to that before escaping to teekon? well it certainly heightened her interest in the brute as ears leaned instinctively to catch bertók's intrigued caw from a branch although at a safe height; much lower than where the masses of his family always lingered.
'used to live here...' eyes sweep the shadowed trees, broken up by slants of light that broke through in all the more magnificent beams against such dark backdrops, dappling the worn paths in shifting patterns. a soft inhale; oh how blissful is must be to be able to refer to 'here' without such bitter longings. blackfeather had a tendency to sink possessive claws deep into your soul; she often wondered would she be better off had she never let herself reside here.
so she'd been correct on hela once living here, yet she chose to shift allegiance to the nightwalkers? she did wonder why but it was not overly dominant in her mind. for one thing, since hela did not ring any bells and tundra had never shown much of an interest in pups and no one had ever come panicked to her about any hela, and she supposed the nightwalkers held some similarites to blackfeather. yet that thought process breaks off quite abruptly with an uneasy twitch within, no, no they weren't. the nightwalkers had sounded like what she'd come from and she had not chosen blackfeather because it was similar to such horrors...such internal conflicts, being as common as they were, did not reach her impassive surface as she simply shook her head once more. "mm perhaps, well if she's chosen there that is not my concern" simple as that really, she could not chide one for choosing a different path. the appeal of the rush of being a mercenary, the power and euphoria that could come along with it; deep within part of her leans longingly towards the idea of it- begs her to stop suppressing it with such vigor. she ignores it.
her position shifts slightly as she runs that conversation she'd had with the blood eyed man over in her head. "not that well" she admits "i met him back...gosh when was it, back in the height of summer i'd reckon. we conversed for a while and i must admit he intrigued me, so excited to show off his potential little group of mercenaries" a little smirk plays along blackened lips "i might come congratulate him on his success some time" she muses with a lilting laugh.
when doll eyes focus back on the man, a spark of rare mischief dares to present itself as her muscles tense a little and ears lean slowly back. "and would you perhaps be willing to show me the level of skill his mercenary's possess?" oh how her blood sings at the possibility of getting to feel that rush, let it sweep the thoughts of such a troublesome mind away and let her become a being of pure instinct.