Blackfeather Woods the return.

@Nemesis @Cicero @Damien. Set for 11.3/11.4-ish

Emèlie had returned with Althaia's head between her jaws, just as Nemesis asked. The journey back to home was longer than she'd expected, what with the child and all, but it didn't matter, for her mission was now complete. Emèlie dropped the head in front of her and called for Nemesis's attention. Though adrenaline and pride coursed through her veins, Emma kept her stance submissive as Nemesis could be arriving any moment now and Emèlie didn't want to give the wrong idea about what she'd learned on her time away.

He was quick to find his way to Emélie, whose gift to the pack lay in front of her without an envelope. Curiously, Damien approaches, ignoring the reason why she was calling. But oh what a great surprise it was to find out that the head laid before the Tyro was in fact the one of a traitor, one marked by Damien as target the moment she dragged his property (aka her pups) away.

Althaia

"You have a talent," Damien noted, lifting his gaze to find Emélie's own, and visibly pleased by her achievement. Was she ready, perhaps? Did she know what door she'd just helped herself opening? Becoming a Dark one was reserved for the best only, and this one seemed to have qualities.

He had heard of the quest, of course, though was not as invested in it as Nemesis or Damien. Althaia's story was one laced with tragedy — a lone pregnant female who had been drawn into the Woods by her connection to Nemesis, because she had nowhere else to go. A price had been paid for the Woods' hospitality, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough for Damien, it seemed.

Cicero slunk from the shadows to take his place by his brother's side. He drew his nose along Damien's neck in loving gesture before standing and staring at the head brought by their recruit, the one he had met earlier. It was a grim sight and it was somewhat troubling she did not seem to realise the gravity of what she had done. Even if a task needed doing, it was never a bad idea to know that taking a life was a heavy thing, and not often one without consequences; be it from within or outside of your own mind and being. Harming another ultimately harmed yourself, too, and it was not always through revenge.

Thoughtful yet stoic gaze remained upon the recruit and the head which she had recovered and he nodded, though it was hard to tell whether he shared his brother's appreciation or simply acknowledged the fact she had succeeded in her mission. He wondered aloud; "How many lives did Emélie pry from their husks before coming to the Woods?" A morbid question, perhaps, and one somewhat out of place considering these very Woods had asked her to deliver them the head; but nevertheless, one that seemed important for the long run. There was no judgement in his voice, void of emotion. Althaia had wronged them and paid the price, even if he considered it a steep one, and he felt no sorrow for her death even if he could appreciate the ironic tragedy of her story and her being. Sometimes, that was just what life was like. Rarely fair, often tragic, and at times, one simply picked the wrong friends.

short post, sorry!

She had returned; the Silencer was surprised. Truthfully, she had expected little of the older woman at first glance but the scent of her return mixed with the blood of her sister gave her curiosity she had experienced little when dealing with newcomers. She did not walk, but she ran with a malevolent strides; more than eager to see what the woman had brought her. Through the shadows, cold eyes rested on the blood dyed lump, recognisable only to her by the scent it carried.

Althaia.

  "Aha!," The dark woman could not hold it in, despite the morbid situation it truly was. While she smiled for all the wrong reasons, the woman still smiled a dark smile; something of her's had been returned. The matter of the head's severed state, it was her sisters, no more no less. Rolling the head to rest at her paws, she marvelled at it's very placement. At her feet where it rightfully belonged. "Per my instruction, you have fulfilled my wishes. And in quick time, too," It was a piece of gratitude she had never bestowed upon anyone, ever. Not even Damien had received one sentence of recognition from her, but the Tyro had. She did not look to the presence of the Dark Master and Cicero, the woman and the head populated her entire focus. "You will do very well here, Emelie," The unidentified twinkle in her eye spoke volumes as she spoke the words, though, it was to her own curiosities that the Silencer even bothered to remember the woman's name. She would come into great necessity, very soon. 

"Rest, and then you will take me to where you found her,"

The urge to gloat far exceeded any reason she could hold; the feeling of utter achievement clouded any worry she had. 

Emèlie was greeted with haste by her superiors, the first being Damien who praised her skill. Thank you, she said. Then came Cicero with a much less enthusiastic outlook, at least from Emma's angle. Not knowing whether the question of her headcount was to her or to Damien, Emèlie spoke her truth, I haven't kept count, per say. But I'm no stranger to death. I've taken quite a few lives, but only of those who deserved punishment. In her prime, Emma was unstoppable. The rush of the kill was the only thing that pushed her through, so she held on tight to her bloodlust.
Emèlie shifted and cleared her throat. It is imperative that you know that I am willing to do whatever must be done for my pack. My gratitude and loyalty have no end. It was true. She was an older wolf now and without the backing of a pack, there's no guarantee that she would've made it through winter. To them she was forever in debt.
Then the older beast turned her attention to Nemesis, the wolf who'd issued the mission in the first place. Another command fell from her lips - rest, then lead - and Emma took no hesitation in following. Thank you, and when you are ready, I'd be more than happy to lead you there. With a respectful bow, she awaited their responses, though she would soon make haste back to her den upon her dismissal.

A sense of pleasure ran down Damien's spine as he watched the savaged head of the traitor, allowing a devilish grin taint his usually stoic face. This was great, impressive... Emélie was just what Blackfeather Woods needed, and he wasn't the only one who thought like that...

"What do you think?" he asked his brother after his own question was answered by Emélie. She was perfect for the Brotherhood, was she not? He had already made his mind about it, despite asking for Cicero's opinion, but he valued his brother's input all the same. However Nemesis came in before Cicero could respond, showing her own admiration for the female's work, and Damien's inquiry was extended to the silencer. "She's here for a reason..." he suggested, looking at Nemesis but meaning his words to be directed to Cicero and Emélie herself as well.

A smile splayed Cicero's previously neutral face when Emélie said that she would only kill those deserving of death. "Ah, how can one be so sure that this one deserved it?" he wondered aloud. She was still relatively new, and as much as Cicero knew very little of what to expect of her, the same had to count for her. "What if Blackfeather Woods is what harbours those deserving of punishment instead?" The smile twitched in clear amusement upon his face, and it was only his brother's words of hurry that kept Cicero from philosophising for hours to come.

He turned his head to look upon his brother. "There is potential, if she proves herself within her specialty," said Cicero. He felt that Emélie would be a good addition to the brotherhood, but he wanted to see more of her first. If she was truly as gifted and loyal as Damien saw in her, then Cicero was certain that she would stay and earn her mark before long. "Cicero is curious to see what more she will bring to the Woods." He spoke of the potential, but he also saw the dangers that remained unspoken in any more than his earlier philosophy. She was quick to agree in hopes of reaching high ranks, and quick to turn words to suit their receiver. It was no coincidence she had said only to kill those deserving of punishment, Cicero guessed, knowing one who asked such a question may feel for the victims were they innocents.

Such wolves were good to keep around, but, Cicero knew from very personal experience, also potentially dangerous. But who was he to judge? And so he did not, simply waiting and resting in his decision. He would be happy to see her added to the brotherhood in due time, but he hoped to see more of her within her specialty first so she could build herself up within their ranks. It seemed suiting, and offered her even more chances at proving herself.