The sun had began it’s descent a few hours earlier and now was only half of a burning orange disk as if sliced into a crescent of it’s former self by the crust of the earth that rose to meet it. He couldn’t remember how long he had been apart of Swiftcurrent Creek anymore, the days a blur of being their Captive and now still their Slave. In a way, the inky pirate much preferred the first to the latter if only because slave was so demeaning to Captive. In truth, the titles mattered little to him beyond when one of the wolves decided to call him out on it, dredging up the past with the same uselessness of killing the kraken, letting it sink to the sea, only to raise it back up again when it was convenient too, to boast of it. Or so that was how Cutthroat rationalized it. Whether anyone else agreed with him he didn’t know and didn’t care enough to indulge. It was clear he still wasn’t trusted and while, sure, it was warranted it was also to the point where it was beginning to be insulting considering he had been the textbook Captive.

He had even proven his loyalty to his captors when he joined Njal and the two others to the Sunspire only to have Bazi’s convictions of the males proven to be absolute. They were beyond rationality as they both made excuses for their actions, feeble as they were to the inky pirate. Jace had even tried to paint himself the saint when he threw Cutthroat in the face of Njal (who Cutthroat knew was well aware of what Cutthroat had done) though Jace’s words held no real merit. Cutthroat had never actually betrayed the Creek because he hadn’t been apart of it when the whole fiasco with Crossbones went down. Lip curled back slightly at the thought, of their pompous behavior and the web of lies they had spun around their followers to elude them into believing that the two males were the victims.

Alas, with a shake of his head he dispelled those thoughts and glimpsed down at his paws, eyes the color of gold doubloons taking in the slate grey and rust peppered pelt of the plump rabbit he had caught that lay near his toes as if it had comically fallen asleep there, sprawled out on it’s side except for the puncture holes in it’s throat where he had grasped it to twist it’s neck. Initially, he had meant it to be for one of the pack’s caches but realizing the time decided he would take it to Fox as a gift to do with …whatever she saw fit. It wasn’t as if he were trying to impress her (admittedly staying on what he thought was her good side was a goal for the pirate) but she was his den mate (and Alpha besides), after all, and what kind of roommate would he be if he didn’t give her a gift every once in a while? Gingerly, he grasped it’s scruff and carried it to the den he shared with her, dropping it at his paws once more letting out a low chuff unsure if she was inside or not.

The pants that spliced from betwixt Fox’s lips were heavy, her eyes, in the brief moment he allowed his own of doubloon gold to study her face before they averted as normal submissive posture when in the presence of the alpha, were bright. For a second moment that only lasted, like the previous but a few seconds he thought that maybe she was happy to see him not having much else to go off of as it were. It was gone nearly as quick as it had entered his mind when she asked him to tell her what they had learned of the Sunspire wolves. The inky pirate, initially, was surprised having assumed that Njal would report to her right away upon their return to the Creek but that did not seem to be the case. He inhaled deeply and let it out before he nudged the dead rabbit at his paws towards her. “First lass, this is for you,” Before he settled back upon his haunches as if he were preparing to tell her a story.

“We were accosted nearly as soon as we entered their lands by Jace,” He began, “Throwing me first thing in Njal’s face as if I had anything to do with their situation,” It had annoyed the pirate because he was not some scapegoat that they could blame all of their problems on. He had done one wrong towards Swiftcurrent and he was atoning for it. Beyond that no one had any room to talk about him or blame him or whatever. “And then threatened us. It was about the time of Jace’s threats that Ferdie showed up and after him two females. As far as I could tell that is all there is of them …at least all that answered Jace’s call,” They had not been an impressive force in Cutthroat’s opinion and had been, likely, evenly matched with the Creek wolves.

“The lass that accompanied us,” Cutthroat, admittedly, didn’t even know her name. “She managed to destroy a cache I believe but Njal, after Jace’s threat, attempted to appeal to the two females by telling them about Jace and Ferdie but either they are deluded or their heads are so far up their bums that they didn’t care and he passed on the warning to go elsewhere,” But of course they hadn’t listened. Cutthroat hadn’t expected them too. They were all too far caught up in their webs of illusions that they were stupid enough to defy Fox. “They are still crying the innocent victims, lass. Ferdie even had the nerve to blame you for his illness,” It had been the most pathetic string of excuses the inky pirate had ever heard. How could Ferdie, who was in control of his own person and his own mental health possibly have the ground to blame Fox for his own issues?

The devious rapscallion smirked then, finding Ferdie’s last words amusing, even now as he retold them to her, “He thinks they are a threat to us.” But if the two wolves, the females, that had rallied to stand behind Jace and Ferdie was the bulk of their force Cutthroat knew the Creek wolves could utterly demolish them by numbers alone. “Aye it was the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard and I, lass, have heard a lot of bullshit.” Pirates were rather good at bullshitting, or in nicer terms were fancy with their words and liberal with their exaggerations.

Fox was attentive as he relayed what he had observed and what had happened, offering the lass’ name when it was clear he didn’t know it, though she did not seem irritated by his lack of knowledge when it came to Danica’s name. Of course he knew it now since Fox had provided it but whether the inky pirate would remember it or not was yet to be seen. He wasn’t too terribly good with names, admittedly. He remembered what he needed too when it was convenient favoring words like ‘lass’, ‘lad’ or ‘mate’ in the place of names. She said simply “I see” after a long paused borne of when Cutthroat had ceased talking. He had not been privy to what Fox had intended to do, other than pass along a message or try to harass them by destroying their caches, but it probably could have gone a little better than it had. If they wouldn’t had been accosted right out of the proverbial starting gate he would have delighted in destroying a cache of theirs seeing as how Cutthroat was certainly not a Ferdie or Jace fan.

For a few seconds after Fox had given him a quick lick to his nose — mostly as he puzzled what to make of it — the inky pirate was silent, ears cupped forth only to twitch to the side when she spoke of his ties to Tortuga. His brow furrowed and his golden eyes moved from the skyline to study her face in his confusion. “What ties to Tortuga, lass?” He was a turncoat, a traitor to them and as far as he was aware he had severed his ties with them the second he had turned against them. Cutlass and Corsair sure as Davy Jones’ locker weren’t going to take him back; if they did it would be to send him to the darkest, deepest pits of said locker. Cutthroat’s nostrils flared and he spoke in a low murmur, “I only know of the ties that keep me here.” Whether he was their Captive still or their Slave …in truth he saw no real distinction so it didn’t matter. He could have tried to escape but he hadn’t because for whatever small sliver of decency it was worth he was trying to atone for the crimes he had committed…but it didn’t help that he found his captor attractive (that was always a helpful bonus).