@Akavir @Arric *waves* figured now would be as good a time as any!!

Wren is exhausted.
An ice pick drills through the side of her skull, the high-pitched ringing of her ears the only force that keeps her moving. Days of non-stop travel through unfamiliar lands, high elevation and unsteady paths waging a war against a thinning body. Her only guidance having been Colt's directions and the silhouettes of strsngers, the memories they leave behind in uncharted lands. But she has arrived. There is a pack here, one whose scent she had been following for miles, and for once, she has a good feeling about it.
Warm brown eyes drink in the scenery as a calloused paw reaches out towards the rocky edge of the river. There are smells on the wind of men and women that make her stomach turn, warm and uneasy as the bile sits at the back of her throat.
This better work.

Arric was quick to the borders and the sight that met him made his stomach hurt. A femme malnourished and tired. He dipped his head and studied her tail above his back.

You've reached Swiftcurrent Creek I'm Arric. What brings you to our borders?

A male. Wren had feared this. She knew full well that the cowboy of the isle and the man from the woods lingered with her. All she could do was hope he would not assume the worst of her intentions.

With flattened ears and a heart that dropped to her stomach, Wren holds herself low; calm, unthreatening. But as tired as she was, she had teeth that glinted in the afternoon light when her mouth opened to speak. She was fully capable of defending herself if she needed to, though she refrained from expressing it for now. Good first impressions mattered.

My name's Wren, she introduces, cool as the surface of stone, taking one small step forward. I mean no harm. Was, uh, told there were some fellas that lived out here.

The rotten smell of birch bark and musk tickled his nose. Add that to the lifting linger of her season and he wasn't entirely thrilled to be at the borders himself. However, he said nothing, simply stood still. But he recognized the one scent that stuck to her, if he wasn't mistaken. But her next words set it in stone. Fellas. That was how that male had talked.

Arric wasn't sure what to do, he didn't want to not give her a place to stay, but @Akavir may not want the lingering scent of the cowboy in the borders. So he stalled.

Well met Wren. I'm Arric. Have you traveled far? You looking to settle down or just rest?

Wren could see it on his face. He'd smelled it; that lingering burn of rot-gut whiskey that the cowboy had left behind. He hadn't said it, but the shift in the air made her grow cold. Why did he seem so... offput? He wasn't posturing in the way that spoke of instinctual jealousy. There was discomfort that lay in his gaze.
She swallows. With what little she knew of Colt, she was already beginning to regret having let him so close to her.
If he were to ruin her chances right now...
Walked all the way here from, uh, Tuktu, A feeble laugh and a shift of her weight from left to right cuts her speech in half. Y'think you guys have room for, uh, someone more permanent? She seems almost embarrassed to ask, a nervous waver to tired vocals that rang from a scratchy throat. Maybe I could talk to your leader, or... something. I don't know. Sorry, She coughs. shit, I'm bad at this. Never waltzed up to a pack like this before.
How pathetic of her.

Vague regarding outcome of the whole meeting with the other valley packs.

Arric was interrogating another on the borders—generally, it was a trio of them that acted as guardians toward the creek lands—Moss being the other.

Still, a trained eye could see the discomfort within the dark Beta’s posture from afar, and where the man was generally a laid back guy, Akavir had to wonder the reasoning.

So, he came from the opposite end of the borders—re-entering the creek and casting a glance to both wolves present—the scent not lingering enough in his nostrils for him to place to memory. Instead, as he sidled closer, the Mayfair cast an arched brow to Arric, his silence remaining, though he requested a quiet report if it could be given.

Arric's posture lessened as his friend and leader moved into position near him. The scent alone hadn't been enough to set him off, but the words she used. That had been more and Akavir hadn't been here for that. So he saw the question in his gaze and couldn't say.

Arric tilted his head. Deep voice laced with amusement. I am a leader 2nd in command to Akavir here.

he tilted his head towards the male that had just arrived.

Arric lowered his gaze and finally being the wolf that he was left no holds barred. Alright Wren. I'm gonna be straight with you. First i need to ask if you might be pregnant? Second, the scent that lingers on you. Any of those males gonna be coming for you? Specifically the wolf that smells like birch and woulda referred to us as Fellas.

IF that seems to oddly specific I can change it, but Arric would have recognized the scent and given his mind he'd have also recognized the accent, but if you feel that it is powerplaying or too much I can edit of course. Either one of you.

Pregnant.

Even the implication of it makes her recoil with disgust, a wrinkle to one side of her mouth that brings her lip up in a crooked curl. She pushes it aside momentarily, shaking her head in a feeble attempt at hiding her unease.
No. She wasn't. And that was the answer she would decidedly go with, without eluding to what else may have taken place to result in such an inquiry. Even if she was, she wouldn't be for long, if Colt was right about the woman from the Sunspire. The thought of a child looking up at her with his eyes made her sick in a way that words could not describe.
Nice to meet y-- the two a' yas, she jumps at the appearance of another, but offers him a curt smile in greeting. She pauses. He is silent, with eyes that dig holes in her. He is suspicious.
She sucks in a shaken, icy breath. She is not here because of Colt, nor did she want him attached to her. I'm not pregnant, she says it with clarity, as if she were willing it into existence. and I hope not. I don't want him here. I don't think he would, though. They both knew full well who they were talking about without even having to vocalize his name, like he were some kind of curse. I want to get away from him.

you're fine!! i try to write wren with a new york accent but sometimes it comes off as southern in writing LOL

The she-wolf—rugged, thin—startled at his sudden appearance, and the man began to tilt his head lower in silent apology when Arric continued to speak—

—and Akavir’s interest was suddenly piqued.

Fellas. Men.

Akavir’s gaze became chilly in turn—gaze sweeping over her—and she seemed to in turn understand who Arric was speaking of prior to even knowing more.

His own lip curled, as much as hers did—and he did not wait for further answers. Had the cowboy sent her here? “Describe him,” he rumbled, a growl in his tone, his own form stiffening.

He had a witch to hunt down—he didn’t have time for past transgressions to come back to haunt them right now. So of course they would.

Arric can be skippable until you need him again :)

Arric probably shouldn't have put her on the spot like that, but damn he liked to know what he was getting his ass into. Especially when it came to wolves that liked to rip pieces from his hide.

So he tilted his head and shifted so taht Akavir could speak to the girl and get the answers he sought. He's just keep a weather eye on the going on's and stop the girl before she ran, because their intent wasn't to scare her, just make sure she was here of her own volition and not for some crazy beast that liked to fight.

The fur at the back of her neck prickles upward as her body grows hard as stone.
Colt had done something bad to these people, and somehow, she was caught in the middle of it.
Brown fur, darker on the face, her eyes narrow to slits, yet they are soft and weary. She stares at the thunderous man of few words, the tip of her tongue poking out from between her lips. Real skinny. Red eyes. Weird accent? Lives out in Tuktu? On willowy legs Wren shifts again, straightening her posture and facing the pair of men with a height that rivals their own. Yeah. I know who you're talkin' about. Look, I don't know what he might've done to the two of yas and your pack, but he didn't send me here. I've met him twice in my life. He doesn't know I'm here. She gestures wildly with a trembling paw, the crack in her voice worsening as the boiling deep within her stomach begins to spill over. The desperation is beginning to take hold, bloodshot eyes quickly glazing with worsening exhaustion and panic. I-- I don't know. I'm just trying to find a home. Believe me.

The distinct description was exactly as he remembered—after all, there weren’t many dark wolves with red eyes and a heavy accent.

“The man is like a cockroach,” he snorted, more to Arric than the girl. You just couldn’t get rid of him. They had suspected the red-eyed man had survived—but damn if Akavir had hoped somewhere along the way he would have succumbed to his wounds.

He shifted, pale eyes drifting over her abdomen without attempting to hide it. She showed no signs of pregnancy—that didn’t mean she wasn’t pregnant. She drew herself up—full height, stirring his hackles to bristle and a low growl to begin in his throat.

“If you’re looking to escape him, sorry to tell you, but we expect he’ll likely wind up here again someday. Doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who takes defeat nobly.” He paused, gaze snapping back to her features—noting now the way she trembled and realizing now that her posturing had perhaps been one of fear—two males staring down what could be a formidable fighter… but also one who was travel worn. “Tell me everything. His name. What he is to you. What he said.”

Because it was hard to take anyone’s word as truth these days.

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: language/swearing

Colt. His name's Colt.
Deep breaths, Wren, deep breaths.
He was the first wolf I met when I moved here to Teekon about two months ago. We hung out for a little while one day, then, y'know, parted ways. I thought maybe-- maybe, uh, he actually kinda cared about me? That we could be friends? Until I saw him again. Like two weeks ago, I went back to Tuktu just to say hi.
The breaths become more and more shallow, harder to take in and out. She is shaking, with every muscle she has in her travel-worn little body focused on not bursting into tears or lashing her teeth out of pure anguish.
And, y'know, that time, it got to a point where every time I looked at him, I just thought to myself... I deserve better than this fuckin' schmuck, y'know? What am I doin' 'ere? But, I, uh, told him I was looking for somewhere to live, permanently, and he-- he said something about finding a 'gang', and I told him I didn't want to travel anymore. So he said the Rising Sun Valley had some nice people in it. But he didn't give me any names. So... I found you. And here I am.
Her steely gaze is firm, but word of mouth can only do so much when you're being interrogated.
And that's it. That's the God's honest truth, man. Take it or leave it. I don't know anything about what he did to you to make you so mad at him, but, y'know, I'm sorry. If I would'a known this'd be my life when I first moved here, I would'a told him to go to Hell the second he walked up to me.

Finally, a name to the red-eyed man.

She spoke of him—nothing that drew his suspicions besides merely having been in the company of the man. That—and apparently Colt had informed her there were some kind wolves in the Rising Sun Valley, and it drew a derisive snort from the man.

“Kind, huh?” He stole a glance to Arric then, wondering if the Beta felt almost as perplexed as he did. Then, careful eyes upon her, he exhaled sharply. “Colt and his crew came here and tried to usurp our claim from us. We left them a mess. He chose not to withdraw, and none of his wolves would go against his word.”

The red yearling had perhaps been the worst—or the older she-wolf he had fought. He wasn’t sure any of them had survived—and the woman before them didn’t mention any of his companions. Hardened—as if he could push away gnawing guilt at the red-headed girl once more, he was direct at the stranger on their border. “Did he tell you I threw his sorry ass in the creek?”

Had allowed mother nature to deal with him. Apparently, he had a second chance at life. Hell, for all Akavir knew, the man had nine lives like a cat. Or he really was almost un-killable, just like a cockroach.

“And you’re looking to settle down. Here in the valley?” Just to make things painfully clear.

Mature Content Warning

Wren's jaw falls slack, staring at the stranger with the gaze of a deer in a pair of headlights as the cogs turn in her brain and put the pieces together.
No. He had not, in fact, told her that, and in this moment, she felt like the dumbest bitch alive.
He said absolutely nothing about any of that, Bitterness oozes from her voice, but not towards the man of the Creek. No, no. Now, any and all compassion she may have previously held for Colt had dissipated in a matter of seconds. It was as if he'd lit the match and Wren was now stoking the flame, burning and destroying everything in her mind with a merciless ember.
She'd been taken advantage of. He knew she'd come this way; he had to have known these packs of the Valley would possibly turn her away because of what he'd done, with the way her saliva held the taste of his own. He probably thought she'd crawl back to him.
Well, she definitely wouldn't now.
That son of a fuckin' bitch. I'm gonna send him to the gates of Hadestown where he can rot, for all I fuckin' care.
She takes a deep breath again, this time, in an attempt to regain her composure. Jesus, no. No, I didn't know that. Ugh, it makes sense now. I'm so sorry. I didn't even know the fucker had friends, I thought I was doing him a favor. God, I-- I'm a fuckin' moron.
Her head dips down, low between her forelegs as a sigh heaves from her lungs before she can look at the two men again.
...Yeah. I'm looking to join you. And if he does come here, he'll get what's fuckin' coming to him if I have anything to do with it.

It was the most inopportune time to be laughing, but he couldn't quite stop the rattle of a chuckle that curled into his chest.

Well at least you know now. I'm sorry he did that to ya. If you're willing to tear some of his hide if he comes sniffing around. I'm good.

He looked towards Akavir with a lift of wolfish brow and waited. Unsure if Akavir would let her, but the venom that dripped from her voice was enough for Arric. Though he thought about telling her to pick her partners better, but that felt like it'd be salt in the wound so he said nothing about that.

Though if he saw that beast again, he'd have more to rip into him about.

So it seemed the cowboy had rubbed his scent all over her and sent her off into the lion’s den. Arric’s laugh jarred his attention from the scorned woman. She was livid—understandably—and her intentions seemed innocent enough. A bystander in Colt’s games, it seemed.

Didn’t look like the cowboy had done much personal growth in the months since they last saw him.

“Alright then. What is it you can offer the creek? We’re one of three packs in the valley here, and currently we have a strong alliance with them. We act more as the guardians of Rising Sun. Mostly because of our proximity to the mountain and the taiga.”

His tone and posture eased--though she remained under careful study, in case any of this was a ruse.

A wave of relief is soon to wash over her, though it is quick to fizzle out due to the unbridled anger that now sits within her stomach. She blows a snort from her nostrils, tongue flicking out from between her lips and running over her upper set of teeth. Arric's laughter makes her want to glare at him, though she refrains, instead opting to let out an inaudible grumble.
She hadn't fully anticipated being interviewed.
Well, I'm a fighter, She begins, averting her gaze briefly to watch the grass that sways beside Akavir's feet. The breeze is calm and cooling to the heat of her skin. I was raised by a guy who knows his way around a battlefield. I-- um, I like taking care of others, y'know, an eye for an eye. I hunt birds pretty well on my own, and I can take down a good sized deer if I've got another set a' teeth with me. She shuffles and clears her throat.
And I can promise you if that sorry bastard ever thinks of showing his goddamn face here or anywhere within ten feet of me or us again, I will fucking kill him.

An impressive amount of skill. Even better—their new aligned interest of seeing Colt’s hide handed to him should he try to show face within the valley again.

Great, he rumbled quietly, a glance given to Arric before he gave a final nod on the matter. Welcome to the creek then. The common goal is a pleasant surprise. That, or she was one hell of an actress.

I’m Akavir. A brief nod was given to his large Beta. Chuckles here can help you settle in or give you a tour, I’m sure, he offered, bemusement flickering in his pale champagne eyes as he stepped past the wolves now, quietly excusing himself to check on his children given he had been gone for the hours prior.

this'll be my final reply! thank you guys so much <333

Wren nearly fell to the ground in that moment, with the urge to sing his praises to the clouds. Her time of wandering was over. She could make a home here.
And if she was lucky, she would never have to see Colt again.
Despite the overwhelming feeling of relief and joy, all that comes to her expression is a tired, yet wide smile, beaming bright across sunken features. Thank you, Akavir, Wren nods to him. I won't disappoint you. Promise.
Her gaze then turns to Arric as Akavir makes his departure known, lightly brushing against his shoulder as she trudges past him. Y'think you could show me a place I could take a good nap? I'm... I'm so tired.