A downright ruckus had struck the border of Sapphique today, and Maleah was not too fond of that. She trudges, tail high, toward the shrieking call of little Miette; trespassah!
Upon arriving at the scene, quite the sight laid in front of her. I'm from the Rise!
The Rise. She knew that name, she knew that pack; Masquerade came to mind, yes, and there was something else— no, no, she must be mistaken.
She clears her throat, appearing through the brush in a nightwoven flurry. Miette, Astera, her voice comes out in a short huff; doubtful, of course, that they'd listen, but perhaps it was worth a shot. let him speak. You're from the Rise? honey-lemon eyes narrow in suspicion. He is young, visibly; was he lost? What are you doing here? Can we help you?

So he knew where he was. That was a start.
The girls claim he is a trespasser; which, perhaps, he might be. But Maleah had seen more than enough needless violence in her day, even from reckless tots.
That's enough, she warns with a stern curve to her tone, eyebrows raised sharply as if to say I will tell your parents. you can tell someone they shouldn't trespass without threatening to rip off their tail.
Star-colored gaze then turns to the risewolf; Redsky, his name is. Does she know you're here? Maleah chuffs. You can't cross our borders unescorted, ally or not, kiddo. Friend doesn't mean we don't have boundaries. Besides, her paw raises to point indignantly at the troublemakers. not everyone is gonna recognize you on first glance.

The girls pout; scorned looks shot both toward her and the boy Redsky. He, too, throws his own pity party. Children.
A lesson was to be taught here. For future reference, Redsky, her tone lightens, somewhat; clinical and guarded as it might be, some semblance of warmth lingered there. Sympathy, perhaps. when you want to visit us, or anyone, send a call at the border and wait. It's the polite thing to do, yeah? he was lucky it had been Maleah who appeared and not a ferocious mother willing to protect her children.
Girls, sharp nose points downward to the clouds of light and dark; huddling close to each other, sending what she assumed were crestfallen glances back and forth. we should head back.

The boy claps back; I barely crossed the border; which, admittedly, Maleah had not entirely expected. Her teeth grit as a grunt of disapproval airs from between them. That doesn't matter, kid, his pity-party was not about to sway her. It was true that their insidious plan of capture was, perhaps, not the best choice, but if he was going to throw backhanded retorts to a grown woman, she may as well have let them proceed. a border is a border.
Good day to you too.
As she turns to usher the children back toward the safety of central cliffland, she feels a bump against her foreleg that earns a startled huff. Blink, blink, and then the children bumble toward him in a flicker of red and white. Her ears cup forward before flicking back in a disgruntled airplane motion. I'm telling your mothers!
Was it even worth it to chase them?

Of course she had to go after them. Of course she had to feel the ground harden as Sapphique's border falls behind her, and of course her lips had to curl back in a stern show of ivory teeth; to the boy, to the children.
Home. Now. her voice thunders in a depth it perhaps never had before; no more games. Her pace picks up in speed, a swift bow of thin, short legs; a black widow amid the thick shrubbery of the tangle.
If not stopped short, her teeth would clip in a gentle warning first to Astera, and then to Miette; and if she were lucky, she would form a guardrail with her lithe figure in between the boy and her girls. He's leaving. Let him go. We don't do this.