Moonspear seal team sixty-nine sexecuting the hit

set Sept. 30

Well, they finally fucking made it. It wasn't easy, but they made it. First of all, Vercingetorix didn't even know where the fuck Moonspear was but got some directions from some awesome totally real NPC peeps. Also, he was starving and thus slower than usual, and @Dragomir also had to take it a bit slower too because of his injuries. Isi was with them, but I'll tag her at the end because Miryam's fat fucking fingers have already backspaced and lost the post three times trying to type that accented e at the end of her name.

He drew to a halt at the base of the mountain, near the border, and drew in a deep breath. Thank God, he remarked, looking down at his children with a relieved smile. Hopefully he'd find Aure here and they could, you know, patch things up so his kids only hated him at 70 percent capacity or something. That would be nice.

The brute lifted his muzzle and let out a ragged howl that echoed up the slope, hoping to reach anyone relevant. Aure's name was included, true, but he also summoned the leaders as well. He couldn't really find any of her scent mixed in at the border, but maybe she had gotten injured and hadn't been on patrols. (Maybe she hadn't gotten here at all, said the cynical part of his brain, which he promptly and thoroughly quashed with a scowl.)

Now, all they could do was wait for answers. The little family was due for a win.

@Isilmë

The world had shifted, in more ways than simply its malcontent rumbling. 

The leaves had erupted into a shade of orange, and at present, alongside @Dirge, she and her mate discussed the worlds change to their children. In a neat little row, there were four; @Atlas and @Osiris and @Vega and @Antares who were acting the part of perfect pupils. Hydra discussed only seasons to them this day, and was in the middle of one such little lesson to shed some light upon them: ...snowfall can occur in autumn, as you have seen upon our mountain, though prey typically is not as scarce as it has been— when a howl rent through the air. Hydra had all but forgotten Aurewen had been here at all, but was distracted from even that when her children saw fit to answer the call first—Atlas and Vega leading their rallying cry, this day. 

Her blue eyes fell upon them and she nipped alongside their cheak in faux reprimand. Hush, now, wildlings, did you hear that call? It was not for you; though they are looking for someone, as you can hear, she added another lesson in there, but was quite brief before she gave a sharp look to her husband. Teach them the more intricate art of song before rough-housing, and marching off in false-affront. She was reminded again of how much she loved her family; it was a fierce feeling that made her heart swell as she moved to meet her visitors swiftly. 

Along the way, @Lyra ran with her for a time—up until the very point they came close enough for her to see there were three in the party. Hydra bounded expertly down to meet them, taking her time with this at least to better look at them. One was heavily scarred—moreso than Aurewen-now-Andraste, by the looks of it—and one was the near mirror image of her mother, Hydra assumed, though her nose was dipped in a well of ink rather than rubbed against rose-petal... and even now, her size was greater. No scar blemished her visage, either, that she could yet see... but the silver was unmistakable. The boy, where he sat (or stood), looked more like his father; large, too, and where he stood she did not yet note any mark of injury. 

Finally bridging the gap between them, though keeping a respectable distance for the time being, the queen regarded them with her plume above her hindquarters, providing information wordlessly to those upon her doorstep who, exactly, it was they met with. Hello—I am Hydra Ostrega, the proud woman greeted, ears cupping forward, holding herself in a manner that befitted her station here. Hydra would not waste their time, though was polite enough to wait for their introductions; she was no stranger to ceremony, and even celebrated it. She supposed as a father, if that was who this man was, he would want to educate his children on etiquette—who was she to deny them that? Oh, a Queen, sure, but a goodly one with a heart warm to those alongside him. He was better received than most for his present company, though he would not know it.

It was a long and difficult journey across the flatlands, what with the earth rocking under their feet and Dragomir feeling like his legs were replaced by wooden broomsticks with no flexibility, but they made it. Or at least Vercingetorix thought they had. It was a mountain and it smelled like other wolves, so it was probably a safe assumption that this was Moonspear, but it wasn't like Aurëwen had stuck around to describe it to them or give them directions. If not, he guessed they would just have to ask if this pack knew where they could find it. He felt shy and nervous as they approached the borders; this was Dragomir's very first border encounter.

That was pretty sad considering he was half a year old, but his life was shit, okay. Who had time for basic lessons?

The high ridges of the mountain masked Hydra's and Lyra's approach until just the dark Alpha herself appeared before them, imperious and confident. Once upon a time, when he was very little, Dragomir had met Stigmata and known the weight of a true leader's gaze upon him. That feeling had radiated out from Stigmata and affected him profoundly, willing him to turn his gaze away and show his respect, despite being too young to really get it then. Hydra carried the same weight with her, causing Dragomir to instinctively pull his ears back, turn his muzzle toward the earth, and flatten his tail against his thighs. He didn't tuck it, he wasn't cowed, but he made sure not to raise it even an inch.

Before Vercingetorix could speak, because Dragomir was feeling nervous and that was bubbling up into word vomit in his throat and he really had no idea of the etiquette behind this, he blurted, is this Moonspear?

a third shadow came along behind its sisters, resting on a slab of stone above. arcturus, careful in his tread to remain quiet, peered down at the wolves below in tired curiosity. 

he saw a spearing figure of a man, throat and face distorted — followed by a she-wolf of illuminating pale fur — and to the side, a pitch-furred yet coltish youth he surmised to be a sibling. that last child spoke — Arcturus’ ears flicked in acknowledgment, waiting then for his queen to speak. 

arcturus’ shadow betrayed him, spilling now in a long beam below him — cutting across the courtyard they all gathered within. he did not move to join his sister, instead measuring each of them with polite yet remote interest.

gonna post just to keep things moving. . .feel free to hop in whenever, Thalia!

The woman that came to greet them was impressive, no doubt. A fucking hell of a gal. She reminded him of his old Heda in many ways; the similarities didn't end at her size and color. He gave her the proper show of submission. It wasn't hard. She was one of the few of her sex that matched his height.

Another inky wolf lingered above, a young man, and his eyes had just drifted up to look at the newcomer when Dragomir piped up. Vercingetorix didn't really care much about proper etiquette, so the question seemed well-timed. He smiled, tail swishing behind him, and focused his attention on Hydra Ostrega.

Vercingetorix, he said simply, not bothering to add a surname or pack. He had neither now, really. These are my children, Dragomir and Isilmë, and nodded to each of them in turn. We are looking for Moonspear -- their mom, Aurëwen, was supposed to stay a short time there before heading back to our pack. She looks a lot like Isi, but obviously older, and with way more scars.

The wry curve of his mouth was tinged with apparent worry. Do you have any answers for us? Verx asked, more than ever a man pleading on his knees as he searched for his children's mother.

the hUMILIATION. I SPELLED CHEEK CHEAK. W T F

 

Hydra's eyes were soft as they turned to Dragomir, who spoke first; she could smell the nervousness upon him, a not so different odor than that of their marked quarry, though any wolf could tell the difference. She looked to him without judgment, doing her best to discern his age; it was difficult, though. By sight it was near-impossible (if not completely), but his scent was telling enough. Her voice carried a small shred of warmth when she confirmed, it is. His body language spoke he knew her station well enough, and so she did not say more than she needed. 

Vercingetorix, this man was. And the two alongside him were his children, Dragomir and Isilmë. He confirmed exactly what they were doing here, erasing any doubt as to his purpose here... though to start with, she had none, not when she had heard him call for her as well. It had taken Kaistleoki long enough, but since the earth started shifting she did not begrudge them that. If where they were was more stable, why risk a life? Better to wait a while longer to see if things might cease. They had not, and here her family was. Hydra regarded the arrival of her brother with the flick of her ear; an invitation to come nearer, if he wished, or stay where he was.

Indeed, she was with us for a time. Longer than even she hoped; shortly after her departure, she was struck down by lightning. Aurewen was returned to us... though now she calls herself Andraste, she revealed, her blue eyes holding the man as she continued. And once she was healed and well enough, she left with no intent to return to the riverlands. As she put it, her heavens forbade it, she drawled, voice dark. Hydra had her own questions; did they share the same faith? Would the children care not and understand, because of that faith? Did it absolve Andraste, in their eyes? Though she felt contempt for it, her features did not betray it; this was their mother, and his wife. She would not meddle in this family affair, not with the children present. It was not fair to them, that—

But it would be crueler to feed them false hope. A savory thing, at first, that soon tasted too bitter to want to try again.

She would let them find their own answers, if they wanted. When she departed, she headed in that direction. Hydra's muzzle followed her gaze, pointing toward the direction of the weald. Where it was she went, Hydra did not yet know; she had only watched long enough for the pale fae to disappear into the horizon. 

lauren said we could skip arcturus! <3 also don't want to hold this up and ima be away this weekend so throwing in a post now <3

It was Moonspear. That was an immense relief to Dragomir, whose figure veritably sagged with exhaustion. Outwardly they couldn't see the pain he was in, having used his legs more over the past few days than he had in almost two months, but his hindquarters briefly trembled as spasms crawled up his stiff thighs. With a soft whine, the boy slowly sat, shooting a remorseful look first to Hydra and then to Vercingetorix.

He didn't want to be rude, but he just couldn't stand that long. It was actually fortunate that he was sitting for what came next. Verx introduced them and stated their purpose and Hydra supplied the answer they were looking for. Dragomir's stomach swooped with concern and fear when she revealed that his mother was struck by lightning—was she alive? Was she okay?!—but then swooped back up and punched him straight in the chest with the force of the same lightning strike that temporarily felled Aurëwen.

She what?

WHAT?!?!

Dragomir's fragile composure broke and a rapid wave of anger and anguish burned through him. His face twisted into a tortured snarl that he couldn't silence. Later, maybe he would feel ashamed and humiliated for this outburst in front of Hydra and Arcturus, who lurked above, unseen by the boy. But right now? Right now the pain of being abandoned, just as he had come to fear, was too powerful for him to swallow down. It tore straight through him for all to see.

His eyes burned with tears as he whirled past Vercingetorix and left. Not far. He was still within view of the Moonspear wolves and his father when he allowed himself to collapse to the ground and curl into fetal position, tears streaming from his eyes and muzzle wrinkled in a silent scream. As though he believed that curling into a ball could somehow cage the seething, sickening feeling of betrayal that overwhelmed every other feeling in his body.

Skippable now unless addressed, tag if needed!

Verx blinked softly down at his son as he sat, not minding in the least. He was half-inclined to do the same; it had been a long journey, after all. But he remained standing, listening to what Hydra had to say. And boy. . .did she have some things to stay.

He, too, was shocked to hear that Aure had been struck by lightning. His mouth fell open, only to snap promptly shut as the woman gave the second part of the story. A rustle by his side, and Drago was taking off fast; he caught a brief glimpse of the boy's face and felt his heart shatter. All the while, his own mouth had twisted into an ugly scowl.

This is obviously a surprise to us, Vercingetorix responded, voice heavy, dark. His rage crackled through him like, lmao, lightning, ironically enough. He struggled to maintain his own composure in front of Moonspear's leader. He followed Hydra's indication of direction, staring that way for a long moment, then toward his son in the near distance, then down to Isi, then back to Hydra.

Man, what a clusterfuck. Surprise surprise, Verx and Aure were back at it again being terrible parents.

Thank you for letting us know, he said, the weight upon his shoulders now nearly unbearable. I. . .I'm not sure what to do next. The riverlands are flooding. The ground won't stop shaking. I've got family in the south, but— Drago got injured recently. He can't go very far, very fast.

There were a lot of questions to be answered. Before that, though, they just needed a place to lay their heads.

oh, to be a fly on the wall in this little family gathering, absent its’ matriarch — or in arcturus’ case, a wolf on stone. 

he remained silent and largely impassive as hydra filled in these strangers with the argent’s extraordinary ordeals. most of this was news to arcturus — yet he showed no trace of it in his expression. 

it seemed the news hydra imparted left its audience, well, thunderstruck.. arcturus believed the dark youth looked positively distraught — particularly as he moved away, betraying a gait abnormality arcturus had yet to see. the father faired little better; his tone was dark even, and drew arcturus’ ears forward. 

remaining where he was, the young moonsperian glanced to hydra in quiet bemusement; would she accept this family, as she had done to the ghostly woman that had fled days before? he had his own opinions, though he held them close. 

still skippable, just throwing this in so it counts for trades <3

The physical reaction of Dragomir was met with mute apathy; Hydra could not pretend to understand what he was going through, and was not empathetic in nature. Traditionally, she met snarl with snarl, but she was not so unfeeling as to be oblivious to what he likely felt. Hydra knew the permanence of losing ones parents, but they would never have willfully abandoned her. No, only death had such a power; it was the same for she herself now. Aurewen lacked that piece of her, it seemed; it was best the sylph's children know this now, and recover from the fractures she left in their wake. The sooner, the better. She did this for no ones sake, she felt, but the children present now. Only when Dragomir turned to quit the scene did she note his injury, though any adrenaline he might feel likely made him look, in the moment, healthier than he was. It was only a slight hitch she saw then and there, but it did not hold her attention long. 

The father spoke for them all, still, and her eyes were back to him. Hydra nods in quiet understanding. 

She was surprised to hear of the riverlands flooding; so, there would be nothing for Andraste to have returned to. Vercingetorix spoke of not knowing what to do next, and his son being injured; her eyes turned back to him, and she did not entirely take his meaning. They were not wolves who offered sanctuary, but Andraste would have died without their intervention and Hydra had been thinking more of Kaistleoki than anything else; though she did not really care what they thought, it would be the second wolf that had come to Moonspear and returned worse for wear... assuming the first Knight had made it home at all, or if she simply debated going back only to return. 

Hydra looked back to Dragomir. A mountain could rebuild strength in his hindquarters, when he is ready to climb, her tacticians mind brought these words to life, and her ears twitched. We have watched surrounding territories fall. I do not know where you will go next, either, but if you and yours seek something permanent, we too are a family, she hummed. Perhaps not his, not from where he stood at least—but Moonspear was family. Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles; new blood was welcome however they might wish to be. Cousins, perhaps. Family all the same. You would be welcome. She looked to his daughter for a moment, then to his son as to indicate they all would be. 

They lingered upon the fetal mound in the distance. Fickleness might run in their blood, but she found them blameless, for now; some maternal instinct reared its head in her, to offer such. Though it was not done lightly, and likely would only come once. She was feeling kinder than usual, today. Was he injured in the flood? She asked next, curious as to this. Where Moonspear stood, flooding was the least of their worries—but she had heard the landslide of the neighboring mountain, and so did not keep too close to the peaks should swift escape be necessary. Hydra felt more comfortable upon Moonspear of late than anywhere else; it felt the most stable, even when the earth shook.

He was more than a little surprised by what came next; why was she offering at all? Because of the kids? These were tough times, and they had ties to an established flake. It would only make sense to turn them away at this point. It made him a little skeptical of Hydra and her motives, although. . .

God. Dragomir couldn't go on much farther, not with this newest emotional blow. He imagined Isi was feeling a similar level of turmoil. He could go to Praimfaya, but how far south was the fen? It might take ages to get there, and even when they arrived -- a girl-leader? A pretender Heda, at least in Ajatar's eyes? It seemed like a recipe for disaster.

At her question, he shook his head in a silent 'no.' He would not give the full story here. She only needed to see the darkening of his eyes to know it was something more sinister than rising water. Instead --

They need stability in their lives, Vercingetorix said softly, again shaking his head in rueful fashion. As you've probably gathered from this short conversation, they haven't had much of that. I need to do right by them. He took in a deep breath, ragged with exhaustion. For my part, I'm a soldier. I can serve you and yours without question, were we to stay. And I can try to find whatever game is left to feed this pack.

His lips firmed in something like a smile, though it was tinged with the weight of all they'd learned today. You're kind to even offer us a place to stay, after what Aure did, Verx mused. But the kids shouldn't be punished for their mother's foolishness. . .and I'm a goddamn fool myself, but I'm trying to be better. I could be better, here.

the woman who came to meet them was the exact opposite, it seemed, of Aure—the yearling's gaze fell on her with a fair bit of awe, impressed at this commander of the mountain. she is silent; however, spine stiff and infused with a kind of grim hope. her gaze remains fixed on Hydra as she tells them first that Aure was here, and then that she was struck by lightning. the world feels hollow, and she terribly, terribly, guilty. she'd seen what lightning had done to trees, left them burned and black and empty, and can not imagine Aure in the same state. and the whole while she'd been gone, she'd fumed, thought the worst—

and then the worst was delivered to her in the same breath. Aure was not dead—she was alive, and had no intention of returning to them. no, not quite; the heavens had not allowed her. dread and hate and guilt again, a teeming whirlpool on the edge of which she teetered. Drago's abrupt departure had her head whip around to follow him and threatened to send her flying into that whirlpool, but she tightened her jaw and dragged her focus back to Hydra and her father, even though her brother's sobs demanded she go to him. 

aure had always had reasons, excuse for her absence, so had Verx. it did not make things right, but it allowed to understand even a little, to try and justify it. but now—her heavens? heavens were no reason to keep a mother from her children, not if her children were good enough. they must not have been. 

the conversation turns, again, a new pack, again, an absent parent. suddenly, she doesn't care, can't. she nudges her father's shoulder lightly and motions in the slightest towards her brother before leaving the two adults to speak, unable to care for the outcome. 

she crouches next to her brother, between him and the audience composed of Hydra and her father and the unknown wolf. "I'm here, @Dragomir. I'm still here," she mutters, touching her muzzle to his shoulder, resiting to urge to curl up beside him and do the same.

She listens to him, regarding the daughter only as she moved with a look, eyes not so cold as they ever seemed to be. He spoke of desiring stability for his family; Hydra knew that Moonspear could bring that, and more, should that be something he truly sought. For Moonspear had been her home for three years now, and the faces here were all familiar ones. Aurewen had not wronged her, else the conversation likely would not have been so amicable—but it was quite clear to Hydra that she had wronged her family. 

Hydra could not fathom it. Especially with the others son hurt as he was— 

For her own children to ever come to harm, what would she not do to see it never be so again? The dark look in his eye was enough to bring to her minds eye a certain villain she had been unable to remove from the face of this earth, for the sake of friendship... was he out there, still? Ah, if she were to see him she would need to kill him; it would help her rest easier at night. Hydra wanted to know more about his own incident, but with the boy so near did not think it right to ask now—still, she had her own children to protect. And she would. 

These two, too, should they become a part of Moonspear. They would become a part of her family, and all those who were a part of it were afforded the luxuries that came with her sword and shield; she was a tireless guardian of her realm and her people. 

Her gaze turned to Vercingetorix. I trust that you will be better, came her warm drawl; trusted enough to grant him residency here. I believe that they may need you now more than ever. Your skill as a soldier and hunter both are things I value. Should you seek stability, I think it can be found here. She finished with the flick of her ear; she wanted his best. Expected it, even—though it was not simply from him, but any—it was all one could ever really give, was it not? She left it to him; she could sense the exhaustion on his children, and the truth of it was the branch she extended came from her own maternal instincts surging to the fore here and now.

If not for Isilmë's approach, Dragomir would be content to sink into a catatonic stupor there on the ground. His emotions quickly became too overwhelming for him to handle and the walls went up, shutting out the bad and leaving him with the strange sensation of being suspended in a dream. A nightmare, more like. This still happened to him sometimes when he dreamed of Merrick's eyes or Astara's teeth or caves in general ... but these instances were less and less.

Dragomir had a feeling these episodes would be a lot more frequent in the days to come.

Isilmë came to his rescue with a gentle touch and soft words. Dragomir turned his blunt muzzle toward her, eyes swimming with pain in spite of the faraway look that glazed them. Someone who didn't know him well would surely overlook it, but Isilmë would know. She always knew. She must be feeling the exact same way. How, he wondered, did she stay so calm in the face of it? More than the pain was the feeling of misplaced guilt and insecurity that crashed over him, because Aurëwen's leaving was his fault, was it not? All of it was his fault. He could never pretend to be as calm as her ... obviously, since he'd just made a fool of himself in front of strangers.

He could vaguely hear the conversation occurring between Vercingetorix and Hydra, but despite his mind screaming at him to pipe up that he was a hunter and could help, too, he couldn't muster the energy to even look at them. It wasn't her fault their mother had left them with no intent to return, but looking at Hydra right now brought the pain into sharp relief, if only because she was the messenger.

arcturus listened to all with a diplomat’s studied indifference. the lives of the ragtag gang before him sounded truly wretched — he wondered if they settled among them, if the trajectory of their bad luck would swing to the ‘spear. he was not a superstitious man, nor was he lacking in sympathy.. but he did not wax emphatic either. 

if their lives were unstable, chances are they were too. circumstance had a strange way of permanently impressing itself upon those it guided — if they were to be part of the ‘spear they’d need more than stability. they’d need unerring guidance. hydra’s cubs needed socialization with others their age, and much like a strategist, Arcturus was thinking ahead — and of how new blood would be useful to their empire among the stones. 

arcturus made his first move to join the conversation then, sweeping down the rocks with an agility that belied his previously still frame. aligning alongside hydra his gaze fixed to the far off cubs, and then their father. they will need training, but i can help strengthen both of them while you earn their keep here. his gaze rested upon the father expectantly.

last post!

He appreciated her faith in him, her willingness to take them in. Verx was sure that loyalty to Hydra Ostrega would come easily; she commanded it by presence alone, the words only a supplement. The shadow from above came to join them and spoke with some authority. To his words, the former cheka nodded.

Thank you, he said sincerely, feeling somewhat at ease for the first time in days. I'm willing to pitch in whatever is needed here. I. . .thank you so much, really, Verx repeated, addressing them both, his gaze sweeping between the two dark wolves. It'll be good for them to have such a solid, stable home.

A home he couldn't have provided on his own, no matter how much he wanted to. If the conversation was finished, he'd dismiss himself to go comfort Dragomir -- or at least, try.

After that. . .well, he supposed a conversation with their mother was in order.

Last post from me, too!

 

She heard his appreciative words, though said nothing but for show me your thanks, there is no need to say it, and do not make me regret my decision. She had faith in his words, though—and her gaze fell back to his children. Hydra could not guess what their life had been like, but only knew where it could go from here if they should remain. All life had potential in it; she did not think them old enough for that potential to be squandered by trauma, but then Hydra knew nothing of it. She was ignorant, and for all of Hydra's wisdom she knew nothing of what it was to go through the particular trials these children had gone through.

Hydra expected he would want to find the mother of the children, and Dragomir and Isilme with them. Twitching an ear, she looked to her brother and said, once they are rested, this should start at once. Better to distract their minds with something productive than destructive. 

Beginning to turn, Hydra looked to the father and said in earnest: Welcome to Moonspear. Find me, once you are more settled, she requested, casting one last, long, glance out toward his children who were a comfort to one another—then, she moved to begin her own patrol, inviting her lingering family members with a simple look.