She headed west toward the mountains, but when the smell of several wolves caught her attention, she knew she couldn’t ignore it. Any pack was a possible ally, and she approached their borders with caution. She had never needed to negotiate deals before, but she was going to have to figure it out as she went along. Her ambassador muscles were going to get more of a workout than they had in years.
The piebald woman arrived at the border and called upon whoever would listen. She kept Laurel’s face in the forefront of her mind, knowing that it was she who Seq was doing this for. Their friendship was important to her on a level that she couldn’t begin to describe.
the mottled woman paints an interesting spectacle upon the border, and it is with curiosity nearly rivaling her customary wariness that Avicus approaches, eyes narrowed. she takes in the sight of her, assessing for threats. she'd called for no one in particular, so her errand here involved no current Redtail resident.
mm?
she asks wordlessly upon coming close enough to speak, rolling her shoulders back into the regal posture she'd carried since her birth—except now, she's done something to earn it.
there's a familiar tinge to the woman's smell and she cannot place it; it's faint enough not to send alarm bells clattering, but she notes it in case things go south. they have friends in the taiga, for sure, but Nyra (to her knowledge) lurks nearby.
A silent red wolf greeted her, and Sequoia dipped her head respectfully. Sequoia was glad it was another woman and not a man. At least it would make things easier and more likely to work for them. My name is Sequoia, and I am seeking packs who may be able to help me. My pack was ambushed, and two of our children were taken from us. We are not fighters, but we have other skills to offer in return for your help.
Sequoia was willing to do almost anything in exchange for those kids. She had to set things right.
ambushed. children gone.
this is Nyra's handiwork; she's sure of it. she snaps to further attention, bristling slightly at Sequoia's words. who?
Avicus asks swiftly in return. big whihe' womanh'?
big white woman, the clarion call she's held for so long. god help her if there were ever two of the sort—if the bitch were to reproduce—
she casts that thought aside with a shifting of her shoulders, a brief shiver. when?
she adds.
Sequoia shook her head. She did not know the woman this wolf brokenly spoke of. Weeks ago. We are worried for their safety. Will you help us?
she asked. If not, she would be on her way. She would find others who could help.
not Nyra.
weeks ago.
it's not an easy decision to make on the spot. Avicus pauses a moment, then asks, where?
her indigo eyes are hard but not uninviting; she feels for the woman's plight, but she has her own wolves to manage, here.
she cannot go upon a fool's errand like she had for Karst.
sorry to cut a bit short, but i need to get some of these older ones closed!
South of here. A place called Noctisardor Bypass. Our pack is known as Rivenwood. If you can spare anyone, send them there, let the Rivenwood wolves know Sequoia sent them. You do not need to tell me right now if you can. I know it is a difficult ask.
Sequoia knew it was a long shot, but she also knew asking was the only way they had a chance.
I must go. I have much ground to cover.
it's a lot to remember, and she'll try to keep it all straight. south, bypass, Rivenwood. she holds tight to these three words and nods—wait, four words with Sequoia's name. they join the senseless number of monikers already in her head, but at least they sit at the forefront.
goodh 'hluck,
Avicus says, a little tenderness in her voice, as the woman departs. no matter her ruthlessness for her enemies and rivals—and they number many—she has a soft spot for (most) children. they'd done no wrong.
and she is absolutely, positively sure that even if Nyra hadn't been physically present, the white woman was behind this.
totally, one hundred percent, definitely sure.
and she's never wrong about these things.