Haunted Wood you are the rite of movement

to suddenly find herself on the bottom of the hierarchy, stripped away of all things familiar and comforting, is unnerving. here, she is nobody; without her sister, she is nobody. she's severely lacking in the pure confidence that had her go after the other pups of blackfeather, and there are two empty spaces by her side. 

she hasn't slept, not yet. every time she closes her eyes, she sees her mothers, glazed over as they'd been, and knows she can't look into them, not yet. and so dusk finds her deep in the unfamiliar wood as another rumble shakes the ground; this one is barely felt, though lasts a long while. she's still as it moves through, gaze fixed on some point deeper within the wood.

Slowly, their numbers were growing. There was already a fresh, young face in the ranks of the Nightwalkers. A child, forced to flee from her home, but ultimately saved from certain death by one of their own. Valour had done well to find Hela...to bring her here. But this was the Haunted Wood...the Nightwalkers. A misplaced youth like her would either stiffen her spine or be eaten alive. For Tzila, she saw an opportunity. Pups were so easily influenced. There was so much potential to mould them, depending on their personality of course.

She had tracked the stray child down, deep within the heart of the woods. Beneath their feet, the earth continued to rumble. It wasn't as strong as some as the previous tremors, but the increasing occurrences were enough to make even the newly emboldened shadow Queen a little wary. She stepped up behind the young female, keeping a few body lengths between them. "Get used to them. They don't seem like they will be going away anytime soon." She offered cooly, turning to fix her eyes where Hela's own rested in the distance.

she's aware of the wolf behind her, and yet does not turn. she squeezes her gaze shut, reaching for that confidence she wore so easily in blackfeather. she scrabbles, and finds instead a memory of her sire. hela, queen of hell. and of maegi, too, and the gods she hopes are not limited to blackfeather. 

she blinks her gaze open as the woman speaks, resolute. she twists back to regard the woman, seeing a face and demeanor that would not be out of place in blackfeather. "they'll get worst." she offers plainly, fixing the woman with a stare.

Though young, Hela did not seem at all surprised that Tzila had been lurking. For being thrust into the midst of such a hostile pack, she seemed to be holding her composure quite well. She huffed softly to herself in modest approval. She had to give the girl credit.

Sliding up comfortably next to her side but still keeping some space between them, she gave an affirmative hum. "They usually do." Meeting Hela's stare, she canted her head slightly. "Though, you are young. How do you know? Intuition?" Her tone was like that of a teacher, quizzing a student.

"the ravens." she offered easily, blinking at the stranger. they'd been precursors for most of the quakes, and as they'd begun to worsen, the canopy had become emptier as the birds sought safety. their squabbling, too, had began to fade, the birds less interested in the war between them and moreso in the one the earth itself had promised. 

besides, "they won't just stop." they've already been getting worst, anyways. she worried for Scylla, but did not think she could find her way back if she wanted to - to her, blackfeather seemed much further than it really was. "who're you?" 

Her lips pursed together into a thin line, a dark hum rolling in the depths of her throat. "Ah yes...Ravens are said to be messengers of death, after all." Perhaps their constant chattering was an omen of things to come. She had just said too, that the quakes would only get worse over time. Tzila's voice held no trace of concern. Only self-assured certainty.

Hovering above the girl due to the difference in their height, her inky head swiveled atop her scarlet kissed shoulders. Two cold metallic eyes peered down the length of her snout towards her. Unless she saw potential in the young...some way in which she could influence them, the dark female would treat them with just as much severity as an adult. Her own childhood had not exactly been full of sunshine. "Tzila. A close ally of Vengeance...before the Nightwalkers were formed."

she half-scoffs at the woman's words. ravens were more a bother and a source of constant squabbling than harbingers of death; if anything, that title belonged to Eyes, or perhaps Vengeance. 

to the woman's greeting, she offered only an unimpressed, "okay." ally of Vengeance—weren't they all, technically, as his packmates? unless the 'before the Nightwalker's were formed' bit meant anything. the woman doesn't ask for her name, and she doesn't give it. there's a chance Tzila knows it anyway, but she's far from trusting any of her new packmates. she stares up at the woman, thinking her as good as any when it came to answering her questions. "are the daedra here, too?" from maegi's explanation, se assumed them common knowledge - such omnipresent gods had to be, right?

A glint in her eyes showed that she may have very well been toying with Hela's head, when she referenced the Ravens. Tzila knew different individuals held different beliefs, especially when the existence of symbolism and other-worldly forces were concerned. She was a realist. It was just a rumor after all. Let others believe and fancify what they will. She stared deep into the young whelps eyes, the picturesque image of calm. In reality, Tzila was spring loaded. She could turn the tides of her demeanor at her whim, taking most utterly off guard with such an extreme shift. She delighted in her unpredictable nature this way, in seeing the dumbstruck look on an unsuspecting face. 

The term daedra was foreign to her, prompting a forward tilt of her ears. "Hela is it?" It was phrased not so much as a question, but as a statement. "That, I cannot answer. I am not familiar with these...daedra, whomever or whatever they are." She shifted enough to face the girl in a more head on manner. Her beliefs...her culture was one of a mystery to the Shadow Queen. "Tell me of them, would you." She prompted with the slightest of nods, interested.

she dips her head a fraction at the woman's first question, not before entertaining the idea of giving everyone here a different name to call her by. that could prove interesting, perhaps, but without an audience, without scylla, it seems lackluster. 

"the daedra are gods. there's sithis, god of the dead, and peryite, goddess of decay and rot, others too. you can talk to them, pray to them." she offers this before falling silent, considering. "I've never actually seen them, or heard them. some can, apparently." she didn't entirely trust things she could not sense herself, but in the interest of not being wrong, she wavers in her belief; not quite putting her faith in them, not moving to insult them either, until she can make some sort of concrete decision.

"I see." She replied lowly, very much fascinated by the tidbits of information the young girl offered to her. It showed in her expression, of how she considered these gods and their supposed existence. The part about some being able to see or even hear them was quite intriguing. That interest was not one of a deep thirst for more knowledge, however.

"Well, I regret to say that I have never heard of such gods before." Pausing, she straightened her posture some, looking Hela firmly in the eye. "That is because I believe in no such thing. I believe what I can see and touch." Her tone was not forceful or of that of a person trying to convince someone else's mind. A faint smile. "But they are your beliefs...I do not force anything other than such on those true to their own faith."