Blackwater Islands and still too close to you i feel

the search for @Rosalyn continued, though by now the sylph had drawn her own conclusions on just where her enemy-turned-friend was spending her nights. 

do the math: rosalyn’s scent, + the scent of a Drageda wolf, + disturbed snow and footprints, + disappearance = .. well... wasn’t rocket surgery in terms of complicated word problems. 

and yet, then again... the theory that “two + two = five” was not without its attractions. caiaphas mulled over the doom this spelled for the sound as she tramped along the bluffs, a cold wind at her back as she went.

Wraen was returning to her camp-site with Maia, tired, hungry, cold and very eager to curl up next to her sister's warm body and sleep away for the rest of the eternity. The weather had been somewhat peculiar with bouts of light snow mixing with waves of thick mist, making the hunter lose her path on more than one occasion. After ending up all too near to the edge of the cliffs, she had ventured further inlands for the sake of safety. 

As the dusk began to set in, the wind picked up, Wraen was forced to change her route in order not to be blown away by the gusts. This would mean a longer detour than planned earlier and running on already low batteries did not help in any way. Feeling this sour and having only warm thoughts in mind (a person with cold, wet feet usually does), she passed an older she-wolf in the vicinity at a very close distance without so much as noticing her.

it was the wind that howled between them that told caiaphas of wraen’s presence - it bore the scent of her pelt as it clawed its way down from the heavens, though it did well in its shrieking tempest to obscure evidence of her footfalls. 

caiaphas set against the wind, her pelt ruffled as she made detour for the wolf passing through. scent alone told the sylph this wolf was not of the cliff’s ranks, though by the wilderness that clung to her hide caiaphas wondered if the stormy pelted wolf held any allegiance at all. hale, she grunted over the whipping wind, surprised by the force of the gale as it whisked by her.

"Crap!" Wraen jumped and turned to face, whoever had rudely whisked her out of her absent-minded dream-land back to the cold and windy reality. She had been scared and therefore did not eye the stranger very kindly at first. 

Until the other wolf's peculiar colouring draw her attention and made her recall a conversation that had taken place almost two months ago. Between her and Vela, who had been looking for a light pelted wolf with a dark head. Could this one be it?

"What do you want?" she asked, her tone polite, but somehow tired as well. As if the person did not have much resources to offer other people a helping hand.

there were many reactions one came to expect when they interacted with strangers on the road. some were volatile, some were friendly. some seemed pugilistic in manner while others ignored you.. and some smiled the cheekiest smiles while they robbed you blind.

yet it was not many that whirled upon a stranger in irritated, possibly fearful surprise; caiaphas took a step back, a wariness in her gaze as she watched wraen's posture shift from defensive to something a little less reactive.

caiaphas could not say she blamed a woman, particularly a lone one, for being sharp on her toes -- not in this world, anyway.

the female's tone was polite, though she detected an undercurrent of exhaustion. perhaps it was better to keep this encounter brief, though caiaphas would not waste the energy she had expended approaching wraen in the first place by saying nothing at all. "you seen a brown wolf lately?" her voice threw over the wind in clips, the sound stuttering as the gale picked up. it would be easy for wraen to tell then that caiaphas was watching her reaction closely, for her hawkish yellow eyes had narrowed as soon as she finished speaking.

"Brown wolf, that's not very specific," Wraen replied, though out of courtesy she raked her memory for 5 minutes at least, trying to recall, if she had met any person clad in earthen colours. No one particular came to her mind. 

"Do you know his name? Any other specifics?" she asked out of a very long habit of being a helpful person, but not that she fancied in lending her paw at this very moment much. "Did he do something bad to do? Seems to me that's half the time one person is searching for the other," she mused.

caiaphas had always been rather cryptic unless it suited her - a fact that wraen seemed to grasp immediately, as she asked for more details regarding the inquiry. her logic was not unsound - while most wolves disappeared of their own stupid making, caiaphas suspected rosalyn had for once, done very little wrong. "she --" the sylph corrected, though her tone lacked any sort of scorn or coldness.

"rosalyn. medium height, brownish, mouth that gets her in trouble. hmm, don't think she did anything bad as of late." her gaze flickered over her companion, her expression bemused. "unless you call being a thorn in my side and generally existing as bad -- then, yes, she has been quite bad. but it seems she was taken -- last any of my packmates saw of her she was in our woods, and then her scent disappears." the yellow of the siren's gaze seemed to pool in collective darkness.

"and the scent of drageda scum magically appears. you can see the quandary, yes?"

"Wow - that's quite a story," Wraen was taken aback, because this was the first time she heard someone suggesting that a grown-up wolf was taken somewhere against it's will. Kidnapped - how did that really play out? Then mention of Drageda scum, from which she had met only Sequoia and it was difficult to put the image of the nice and inquisitive girl together with one of a villain.

"I am sorry to say, but I have not met anyone, who fits your description," she replied. "Do you and Drageda have a feud?"

caiaphas' words had surprised wraen, and even the crone could see their effect settle in the pewter female's brain. perhaps her delivery had been too sharp -- caiaphas had never been a soft creature, and her tongue often nicked any that were unfortunate enough to hear it.

she offered only a grimace as wraen exposed she had yet to encounter a wolf of rosalyn's nature -- perhaps for the best, all things considered. the mention of a possible feud caused the sylph's expression to darken - how to diplomatically put it? they could suck an egg.

"hm, i think so now, yes." her tail twitched, an edge of disgust to her words. "they were simply annoying gnats to me, up until then. but now they have marked themselves as enemies, i suppose." she loosened a dramatic sigh - she was so tired of the wolves on the cliff, encroaching on her sound and acting as if they owned every speck of sand within it. "perhaps they did it to send a message. what were you thinking of, by the way, before i came along? do you have your own feuds to think out?"

"In other words the deer haunch was not big enough for you both," Wraen concluded and in her tired state she really did not give a damn, who was fighting who and why. The only useful thing out of this would be that she and Maia would have to leave their current camping site and move elsewhere. In case either of the sisters were mistaken for Dragedan wolves and whatever group this old lady represented.

"Me? I was thinking of a meal and a lengthy nap," she replied and chuckled at the simplicity of her needs. "But on the subject of people looking for people - a few months back I encountered a Moonspear wolf, who was seeking a she-wolf that fit your description," she said, looking the old she-wolf up and down. "Never told me, what had transpired, but I gathered that it was nothing good," she added. "If that were you, be careful. If that weren't you - be careful all the same. In my experience, those folk don't care, if they punish innocent people in their vengeance."

wraen's words summed up the dispute perfectly -- only, caiaphas believed 'deer haunch' was a little lacking. it was more that the large coast was not big enough for them, and somehow, her scratching a meager existence in the sound (that in her mind she rightfully owned) made her public enemy number one. a brief flare of irritation showed in her irises, though it was quickly concealed as wraen mentioned moonspear -- and somehow, her.

her posture stiffened -- for she knew what crime she had done to merit the attention of the wolves that trawled moonspear's peak. her tongue instinctively went over the scar left on her muzzle by charon's teeth -- oh, would she have a surprise for them if any of them showed up at her borders..

"are you familiar with them, then?" she queried, realizing she knew very little of moonspear. "i only know their leader -- and he has given me more than enough to remember him by."

"Familiar - yes, friends - no," Wraen replied with a 90% of truth, leaving out the fact that she did not consider Vela her enemy. Or - as she would find out later - that there were two other people residing there, who were kind and nice, unlike their hosts.

"They mutilated a yearling, because they had unfounded suspicion that he was to blame for one of their own's death. Later it turned out that the one had died on it's own accord, but they needed someone to blame all the same. So the guy was still guilty, because he had not called for help, but had attempted to run off," Wraen recounted the brief history of Titmouse and Cerberus. Though there was not much sympathy in her voice for the victim now, she had met the guy later and he had not been very pleasant either. 

"I understood their grief, but did not agree with their reasoning," she finished. "What did you do?"

wraen's story did not resonate with caiaphas -- only because the siren queen happened to spare little pity for the occupants of the world, particularly if said occupants were not part of her circle. her expression remained grim as she reflected on wraen's retelling of moonspear's actions -- and quietly, wondered if she would have done the same.

mutilate? no.

kill?

probably.

okay, definitely.

"was he one of their own?" the answer would not much change caiaphas' view of moonspear, but at the very least, she might understand the virtue of tormenting an enemy and releasing them -- this method often guaranteed that the survivor spread fear about his captors, which in caiaphas' book, was a handy tool to have.

"what did i do? hm - i did not do much. defended myself, mostly." also a half-lie, though caiaphas hid it well. after all, she had provoked charon so many years ago, and the contempt was well deserved.

The old crone did not seem particularly moved by the story and her expressionless face gave Wraen chills. She decided then that she did not wish to keep their conversation going for too long. After all there was still a way to go to home and with the knowledge of two packs fighting over a strip of land in the vicinity, it would be a more wearsome task than it had been earlier.

"Well, be warned and keep your eyes open," Wraen told her, omitting the previous question entirely. If the old she-wolf did not really care about the mutilated guy, then why bother to answer? "It has been a pleasure to chat with you, but I have to go now. Good luck with finding your friend," she dipped her muzzle politely in farewell and left.