Wolf RPG

There was no one here.

Grimsley had sought and found - he assumed - the pack that the wolf Tzila had once suggested he join her in. Rather, he had found what was left, which was nothing but the woods. 

He breathed in the damp scent of earth recently drizzled with rain. The sun was on its way to its place high in the sky where it would beat down heat upon all living things. It was dramatic but Grim would not be caught dead in the high sun. He entered the woods and the shade they provided; his nose low as he took in the smells of forest. It was an acceptable place. It was no mountain range, of course, but the forest was a decent second best and this one was just fine as far as they went. He understood why they had built a pack here though he did not understand why they had left. There was a pang of disappointment in his chest - not for the strange mercenary pack but for the she-wolf who had lived in it. He hadn't really expected to find her and, even if he had, he'd had no plans on what to do afterward. It was just as well, in the end.

He wandered deeper, pausing once to glance at the rapidly bluing sky. He would probably need to sleep in this abandoned wood for the day, hiding away like a goblin or vampire. He would have chosen a cooler, more suitable place but he had planned poorly, and he was stuck with what he could get, as it were. Eventually, he came upon a running stream and the monochromatic wolf bent his head to drink, a slight frown on his features. He filled himself with the cool liquid and wondered sharply about what had happened and where a certain black and red wolf may have gone.

Interesting. 
She had hoped to find an alliance here. 
Instead, she found dead, hollow dens, mostly abandoned. A training area, stained with old blood. There was a few scattered scents, but the place seemed thus far, abandoned. 
Well. That was disappointing. 
She turned, preparing to leave the woods and turn back from whence she came, when movement near a nearby water source caught her attention. 
Well the least she could do is drag back a recruit. 
She studies him for a moment, deciding whether or not he's worth the effort. A northerner like herself, with curious white markings. 
A high born, like herself. 
She slips through the trees, pausing to dip her own muzzle into the water before speaking. 
"Wonder what happened here." She asks quietly.

When the dark she-wolf approached through the shadow of the trees, Grimsley did not startle for he was not a skittish man by nature or nurture. His gaze alighted on her as he continued his drink and he watched as she began hers. A dark lady, quietly confident. He raised his head when she spoke, red eyes calm and pensive. Grimsley wasn't really a loner at heart. He could live comfortably without companionship for a while but being politically driven as he was, he felt more productive when in the company of others. He welcomed the conversation, though his mind wasn't quite in the present.

"Indeed." He said, looking away to sweep his gaze around the dead, silent wood. "I never witnessed what was here, but I was once invited to take a look. I did not -" he look back at her, "and now it's gone. Pity."

He agrees with her, and she appreciates the quiet, matter of fact, solemnity. 
it was exhausting being a firebrand, and her healing rib injury forced her into a sort of stillness. 
Don't get her wrong, she still intended to take on the world, and feast on anyone who got in the way, but with Donovan at her side, and the pack growing, she was more confident they had time. So long as other packs didn't give them any more trouble. 
"I passed a pit on the way here, stained with blood and wolf bones at the bottom. There was also a training area. They seemed to have been warriors, or at least successful killers."  She would have liked to have met the leader of this apparently once great claim. What had ended them? Death? Disease? Political troubles? 
In the end she likely would never know. 
"I'm Nemisis, by the way. And you are?" 

"I passed a pit on the way here, stained with blood and wolf bones at the bottom. There was also a training area. They seemed to have been warriors, or at least successful killers." 

Grimsley's hackles lifted along his back ever slightly and his eyes darted over the shoulder of the she-wolf, back the way she had come. Bones - in a pit? Tzila had said this pack was bloody for the sake of blood (or, rather, Grimsley had inferred it) but would they have killed her? She'd seemed confident and proud of this place, despite the reality of them as an unstable group. Had she been wrong in her position? Her worth to the violent pack? Did he care? The uncomfortable prickling of his hackles suggested that he did but perhaps it was only the uselessness of it that digested him. Perhaps it was only the waste and sick neuroticism. 

He would go and look. If he found her scent among the bones, he would at least know what befell her and be done of this irritating preoccupation.

"Yes...I'm Grimsley." he answered absently, still looking past the she wolf. He took a few steps forward and finally, after another pause, shifted his gaze to look at her. "Where is this pit? How far have you come since you passed it?"

At the mention of the pit he became alarmed, and for a moment, she wondered if she had misjudged him. 
perhaps he wasn't suitable for the saints, after all. 
She shrugged dismissively. 
"The bones are old. Covered in moss. It looks as though they've been there a while. But if you really want to see them, come on. This way." 
She turned on her heel, assuming he was following her. Again she retraced her steps through the trees, leading him to a dark and foreboding crack in the earth. 
"Down there. Try not to fall back in. I don't think you would have much luck getting back out."