Arrow Lake when she and i did meet, she was bathing in the creek

thorn threw his square head back, a howl pressed forth from his curved maw for @Stigmata. there was much the brute wished to share with the iron liege -- and much for him to forget if he did not quickly unburden himself before the basilisk.

he had learned more than he had anticipated these last few days, but the most recent turn of events -- @Redshank in particular, caused the bull's stomach to knot. by nature thorn did not possess an anxious disposition, but treason's grim warning, combined with ruenna's hapless luck, had the yearling on edge as he awaited stigmata.

at the tessarius' summoning, the general announced his impending arrival on the frigid air and picked up a fast canter to locate him. though thorn's howl had expressed some manner of urgency in finding him, stigmata was not prepared to observe any anxiety in his studious pupil, and his approach was tempered dramatically when he had come within sight of the cloaked ox-hound. head low and eyes expecting trouble, the warhound marched up to stand attentively before the burdened wolf, and he tipped his head in silent inquest.

thorn’s threadbare composure held until stigmata’s arrival. he could tell by the cold sweep of stigmata’s iron gaze that the liege saw through his rattled thoughts as if he were a translucent green leaf. the yearling issued a curt dip of his head, his subservience noted by the fold of his ears and the grin aversion of his eyes. 

there is news, if you would have it. he believed starting with ruenna’s news might be easier, and so, the brute derailed to the tungsten basilisk what he had learned from the plateau’s ill-fated beta. he told of the pack’s dwindling, the dispersal of their mercenaries, the coyotes in their bold conquering of caches, and finally of where ruenna lived now. 

when he finished, his gaze flickered — an indication he was perhaps not done with what he felt was an improbably long speech. i met a woman named treason.. he sighed, reluctantly unraveling his accounts of their meeting. she mentioned her pack used to live not so far from us but competition, and bears.. chased them out. if i may be so bold as to council you, it is likely they are hibernating and will give us some trouble in the spring if we have not moved on by then. oh... and she seemed to hold redshank in poor regard. he did not wish to speak ill of a packmate, and his shoulders dropped as he continued. she warned me of him, said he tried to attack their leader — and that he was crazy.

stigmata gave a stiff bob of his muzzle for thorn to continue, and listened raptly to a spate of concerning information regarding the unfortunate luck of lady ruenna. the wolf frowned thoughtfully through much of it, but towards the end he seemed resolute - daresay, even a little excited. he gave his tessarius a daunting assignment then, because he could not take the time to do so himself, and he entrusted the blackhound with the task of procuring the displaced beta before she could bind her roots elsewhere. as a last resort the emissary was to offer her complete control over the plateau's resources in future endeavors, though this would turn out to be unnecessary with thorn's natural, bullish charm. 

the name that was brought up next put the general on edge. his jaw set tightly, and even his eyebrows seemed to prickle, as he considered what the eyjolfur was saying. this was the second wolf that had come to him speaking of the hooded subleader from lost creek and her tattles, and stigmata was already tired of it.

"you are not the first to mention that particular wolf telling this story about redshank," he growled; tail lashing in a way that conveyed the restraint of a blossoming rage. "regardless of truth, her methods of delivery are suspicious at best and aim to sow dissent among us at worst." stigmata snorted then, and curled his lip. "besides, anyone worried about redshank, of all wolves, is a fool. he can barely keep himself fed, let alone be a legitimate threat. the fact they let him live, if he did try to attack their own, should be proof enough that he is not really a problem, or that they are weak. likely both." neither options exactly made treason's words something of worth, though he had to admit that the bit about the bears was a nice touch to getting the frank and sincere thorn to trust her. clever bitch.

as always, there was something to learn from stigmata. thorn watched how he dissected the news, piece by piece -- and then drank in the manner in which he spoke his opinion on the matter. thorn's nerves were put at ease immediately by the cold assurance of his superior.

and that, folks, was why stigmata was the boss -- and not thorn.

he nodded, but said nothing else on the matter. if stigmata believed redshank of little consequence, thorn would too, and devoutly at that.

"i do not appreciate being fed baseless accusations that you took no time of your own to verify," the basilisk hovered, scowling. "the next time you hear gossip, i expect you to investigate, thorn. it is your right as viventem, and your duty, so it is high time you start acting like it." he nipped at the ox-wolf's dark shoulder, rough and fond all at once. "i need wolves i can trust to handle things as i would, not messengers, my brother.  i intend for you to have your own territory when the time comes for diaspora to expand, but i will not give you such a position if you cannot manage these things on your own."

he gave the shadow-bred thorn one last long side-eye, and then he nodded towards the vale. "we shall see about those bears," he commanded, leading them forward swiftly. "you will see to the other thing when we return." and that was that.