The Sentinels see no evil, speak no evil

For @Lotte .. set just as Doe calls for den night

An ear cupped in the direction of the cry – it reverberated from the oceans, it seemed, and Constantine knew his neighbors called to them. Had it simply been Doe, the swarthy male would have sought her without hesitation to see what she needed – but he held no desire to surround himself with the Blackrock Depth wolves – he did not trust them, nor did she feel his presence would solidify anything further.
 
So, without hesitation, the dark wolf continued to skirt through the tall sequoias, his nose instead pressed closer to the ground as he sought the scent of pheasant – perhaps, he could enjoy a quick capture and a meal.. the quiet of the night was something he did eagerly seek.

Very short posts to get all of my threadlogs up to date. ♥ I am sorry for the lack of quality and length.

The passing of Marbas had aroused within Lotte a deep and nagging desire to learn his story. It added to the growing restlessness that drove her further and further from Donnelaith’s borders each day; her skills as a lethal, damage dealing rogue were of little use in this woodland sanctuary. Even if she wanted a fight, she would be hard pressed to find one. Her long legs were in desperate need of stretching, and when she heard the stranger’s call of invitation it sparked a current of excitement within her breast that she had not felt since being reunited with Lærke. She had never been to the beach before. Compared to the tundra, these wilds were a cornucopia of new scents and sights — and now that she had seen two very different forests, she found herself wanting to explore a new biome. Whipping her soot-stockinged legs into a sprint, she gathered herself and leapt — ricocheting neatly off a tree truck and landing on her paws with catlike grace. Smallest of her siblings, she was known to be a wily, stealthy creature when she needed to be — and as the call died away, leaving only silence, she skulked through the forest like a living shadow.

A nearby rustling caught her attention, her keen ears cupping forward upon her skull — she sidestepped into the shadow of a low-hanging bough to wait in a lurking crouch, not taking great pains to hide her scent trail or double back on it. She had no reason for subterfuge within these borders. Still, if given the chance, she preferred to have some semblance of control over her interactions with others.

Your writing is always very beautiful. @Lotte -- fixed! Sorry for the wait. <3

While there were many newcomers to their home, Constantine was somewhat familiar with most of them -- but it did not explain the desire of the other to hide from him as the leaves rustled. His own ears pressed forward, his stocky figure pausing as he considered the reasoning -- the wolves of Donnelaith were an open bunch, and so he could not see why another felt the need to hide within their own home, and so the wolf lowered his muzzle in protection now, his form stiffening. "Show yourself," he rumbled, annoyance sparking in his orange eyes. "We do not linger in the shadows of Donnelaith."

The smoke-and-shadow rogue had no intention of quailing before Donnelaith’s beta — a wolf she found distantly familiar, for Deirdre and Lærke had spoken lavishly of the wolves who made their home within the sequoias. She correctly surmised that the wolf who demanded she show herself was Constantine, for his fiery eyes, swarthy mask, and stocky construction matched Lærke’s description of the man. With two fluid steps, she materialized from her pocket of shadow and faced her superior squarely — small, triangular ears cupped respectfully against her skull, carriage and head lowered, argent eyes appropriately averted. Her bottlebrush tail, though not clamped to her abdomen, curved like a scythe so that its coal-dipped tip curled submissively between her hocks. “You may not,” she intoned quietly, her rich alto mild and warm, “but the shadows are my friends, herra.” She was not a wolf of these wilds and saw no point in pretending to be. She was different — and she did not desire to conform.

Still, Lotte noted the way her agemate’s broad muzzle dipped to protect his throat and the stiffness of his stance, and sought to placate. “Please forgive my blunder,” she uttered with new formality, casting a beseeching smile toward the dark wolf without directly meeting his eyes; “I am Lotte Ansbjørn, sister to Lærke. Your johtaja, Aria, offered me a place among these woods. I meant no harm in hiding from you, herra.” She swept him a low, elegant bow, one foreleg curling beneath her while the other outstretched, then resumed her previous stance with respectful slowness.

His words echoed in to the darkness, and as his eyes scoured the shadows, the beauty emerged from them. She was a wraith, it seemed – dark fur swept across her in a cloak of night, yet lustrous silver painted upon her. Her eyes were silver – much like Aria, and yet the she-wolf before him was so different. He was taken back by her beauty – but her words did little to soothe his thoughts.
 
They matched the darkness she hid herself in – though an apology came quick, he found himself intrigued. This was not the usual female he found within the ranks of Donnelaith, and Constantine instantly found himself wanting to know more. Aria had accepted her – and her kin was the large Lærke – a recent but also welcome addition. The girls tongue was explained then, and lifting his muzzle up gently to reveal his own relaxing nature, the swarthy Mayfair canted his muzzle slightly. “Constantine – second to Aria.” He paused then, his bright eyes studying her quietly. “What does herra mean?”

The soot-stockinged rogue’s smile broadened with the brightening of the beta’s mood, and she curled her plush hindquarters beneath her to sit squarely in his path. “I am happy to meet you at last, Constantine,” she said with cheerful honesty, her warm, rich alto humming with a thread of excitement. “The Bear has spoken of you.” Her coal-tipped tail swayed congenially behind her, stirring up leaf litter and loam. “Herra,” she explained, “is a word we use for males we respect. We also use it for males we do not know, sometimes — but to you, of course, I give my respect.” The sparkle in her silver gaze was as playful as it was reassuring; like her twin, Lotte was a creature of laughter and zeal. She danced forward upon large, rounded paws, her aim to touch the tip of her nose to the corner of Constantine’s mouth in homage, ears cupping respectfully against her crown as she fell back a pace or two. “In your tongue, maybe sir or lord,” she added, her argent eyes studying the dark wolf in turn with respectful interest. “Why do your wolves not linger in the shadows?” she asked him, gesturing with a cant of her muzzle toward the towering sequoias and their fallen brethren. “You have so many — and it is a good skill to have, learning to be invisible.”

She was impish in nature for a larger she-wolf – the grace of her paws captivating as she danced forward to nudge the tip of her nose to his mouth as if reiterating her words. He was surprised by the touch – felt the bolt of electricity shoot through him as the beautiful girl pulled back, but instead he rolled his shoulders back, relaxing and allowing his fiery eyes to fall more gently upon her.
 
To say he was not captivated by her purely was a lie – and while it was her metallic and gentle beauty that drew him, her culture was what preened at his mind more – he found her just as intoxicating as he had Tartok, during his time with them. “In Donnelaith, no – we’ve nothing to hide from our comrades. Though my sister’s newly formed alliance with the wolves of Blackrock Depths has perhaps introduced a new need to.” He didn’t know why he was sharing this with her – but her discussion of lingering in the shadows had certainly stirred his mind in the direction of the wolves who had nestled cozily at their doorstep.

Lotte, oblivious to the male’s attraction to her, believed that submission alone had won her the gentle warmth that replaced the hard, suspicious glint of his fiery eyes. She basked in it, her coal-tipped tail eagerly waving behind her with a rhythmic sashaying of her hips. At the mention of Blackrock Depths — the origin of the summons — her black-masked face turned automatically toward the sea, then refocused with new seriousness upon Constantine’s troubled visage. “Have they offered threat to this sanctuary, herra?” she asked somberly, straightening before him to present herself as she would to a commanding general. “I planned to answer the call — I liked the voice of the one who issued it.” Lotte was ofttimes a capricious creature, driven by her whims, but she would forego her pleasure if it meant proving her worth to her superiors. “If you have need of information, I will glean what I can.” She had no way of knowing that she would return with a cub instead of useful information, and with her loyalties being sorely tested thanks to a certain black-masked coywolf and odd-eared witch doctor.

"No, I don't believe they are a direct threat," he mused quietly, his eyes still studying the exquisite creature before him. She was different -- a darkness emerged from her in a more innocent nature -- something the other wolves of Donnelaith did not harbor, and he wondered why a volunteered spy found herself in the midst of healers, spare for her relation to one of them.
 
"If you can glean anything, let me know. I would like to know if they are what they say they are," he rumbled, considering that perhaps this was not the wisest route to go. But he could not shake his distrust for their new neighbors, and so with a nod, the Beta dismissed himself from the beauty, eager to see if she would indeed report anything back to him.

With her new assignment, Lotte tucked herself into the shadows of the great forest once more — all the better to assume her role. Kaniini was too timid, and Solene too somber. Though it pained her even to consider the Daggerspine, she did not know what manner of wolves she faced. If Constantine doubted them, surely he did so with reason. Aria and Constantine were Lotte’s leaders, now — and to serve them, she would crack her fangs on their enemies.  They need only ask it of her, and it was good as done.