Blackbeak Bluff and when you wanted blood, i cut my veins

tags just for reference - AW

if caiaphas was the type to be inwardly contemplative, she might have remarked on the absolute absurdity of the last month's events. getting exiled from redhawks was perhaps not even the most incredulous of circumstances to befall her small troupe: finding a nereides cultist, discovering old arch-enemies alive and kicking (did it truly surprise her @Rosalyn had yet to succumb to the grave?) -- it had been a tumultuous course of events the siren queen relished to leave behind her.

@Svalinn and @Raleska were not far behind - they were old enough now she trusted them alone in tandem, though every now and then a needle of worry thread through her head. they were intimidating and capable, and at over six months of age had started to scratch the surface of their maturity's true potential. in a few months time both would be indistinguishable from adults.

she supposed there was unfinished business to attend to: the nature of where their band was settling. she had briefly vied for the shadewood, but upon finding cry's crew assembled there (and the subsequent rather sour parting from redhawks) the shadewood had become undesirable. there was evidence too, of settlement along the southern rim of the coast: caiaphas had traipsed these lands a thousand times and each time it seemed a new pack lurched at the hull of sequoia's gulf.

these spots of settlement must be avoided. finding competition on all sides, the small troupe pushed north.

She was old--well, not much older than himself, but he considered that to be too old, because, you know, double standards. She was old, but still lovely, imperious and fierce, with looks he'd not seen before. Vercingetorix traveled the edge of the bluff idly, traveling in the opposite direction from her. Upon drawing near, his face lit in a solemn smile of greeting.

No, his usual tricks wouldn't work on this one. She was a woman, not a girl. And besides, he didn't know if he wanted to woo her, anyway. He was more impressed with the hawkish glint in her eye, the scars that criss-crossed through her pelt.

Hei, he barked, not sure what compelled him to use Trigedasleng. At any rate, the short greeting was not much different from its English counterpart--but he always thought the tongue was suited for more formal occasions. Chon yu bilaik? he asked, his voice gentle but firm.

a thousand times the sylph had trawled these sandy stretches - and it seemed a thousand times, a wolf had intercepted her. she slowed her gait as the dark shadow of a form broke through a field of pale sand: the wolf traveled in the opposite direction, and inevitably their paths would cross if she did not change course..

she thought about it -- but in the end, she kept her path, studying the confident looseness of his gait. he towered over her immeasurably, even from a distance -- as the gap closed their height difference was pitiable: caiaphas eyed the disparity with quiet disdain, but said nothing of it. she was used to being incorrigibly small among her peers, anyway.

the male's eyes were a curious thing to her - she had seen mismatched eyes, she had seen gouged eyes, she had even seen eyeless eyes -- but she had never seen the crisp conflict of two colors, identical, in both pairs. if she marveled the uniqueness of it, it didn't show -- for she was quick to keep her gaze from lingering lest he interpret it as something else.

at first it seemed he greeted her in a language she could understand -- but then, he continued -- the words meaningless. she wanted to stiffen, but hid the urge - encountering wolves of a different tongue was not common, but caiaphas had heard this language before..

she had not yet drawn that he spoke trigedasleng (nor would she have even known the name of that, in her eyes, abominable language), but he spoke with a gruff enough inflection that she thought it almost familiar.. casting the nagging doubt aside, caiaphas spoke up with a flat and almost indifferent voice: "i don't understand you. " her words ended, but her eyes carried on a conversation of their own: did you need something?

It was embarrassing, like being chastised. He cast his gaze down, shaking his head quickly. Ah, sorry, ma'am, he murmured, tail lowering instinctively. Damned if she wasn't powerful, for how small she was. What had compelled him to use his own tongue? Just thought. . .never mind. Let's start over.

Verx cast his eyes over the cliffs, bringing them back to her dark-hooded face in query. You live around here? I'm new to these parts. There were scents on her fur that he didn't know, but the salt he did know. She had been by the sea for some time. And others with her. . .were they close? Where were they?

there were few things caiaphas enjoyed in life; none so sweet as witnessing a man's face crumple. she was remorseless, that much was true -- and vercingetorix undeserving of the keen lash of her tongue. she hadn't thought she said much to cut him, but men were all individuals -- some hardly more sturdy than the spine of a rotted fish.

she knew she knew that language -- yet, it would be a while before she placed it. her eyes seemed to sharpen, as if narrowing down on something far out of her focus.

as he glanced past her to the cliffs, she followed his gaze -- wondering if he was sharing secret glances with wolves unknown to her. from what she could tell of the scents on his pelt, he was at least a man of some company.

as far as his questions... "thought what?" she piped up sharply, a blink eclipsing the harsh yellow of her eyes. if he was new around these parts, what was with the various scents that clung to his pelt? she remained distrusting. "i don't live around here." and then, switching tactics: "if you're new, is your pack new too?"

He gritted his teeth, sucking in a slow breath. You seemed familiar, that's all, Verx responded after a pause, shrugging. Like someone from my family. No harm, no foul. Now she was questioning him, and she kind of scared the fucking shit out of him. It was like an interrogation, or at least the beginnings of one.

Nah, he responded laconically, shaking his head. Been here a while. Lots of powerful warriors. That's all he would say, for now. Any empress worth her salt would know the ins and outs of this land; he had no doubt that she could put together the pieces herself. He wondered what Drageda even meant to her.

Who the fuck was this?

the idea of seeming familiar seemed something short of hysterical to caiaphas; she was not a wolf of particular infamy in her eyes, nor was she a wolf easily mistaken. in her opinion, there were no other wolves like her. 

her gaze raked across his powerful features again, as if to reconcile the statement against the beast; she, familiar?

did he have fantastically cruel, whiplike and chimerical monsters prowling in his family line too?

or, was she familiar for some other reason? her expression shifted from shrewd to now plainly distrusting. there were few wolves that wanted caiaphas dead — but even less wolves that had the agency or the ability to see that wish be fulfilled. she was getting older, and vercingetorix’s “powerful warriors” comment was somehow believable.. but who?
 
her most recent expulsion from redhawks had ended sourly, but surely not enough that they would send assassins after her?  if they had wanted her dead, caiaphas was convinced they would have - and should have - done the deed when she was surrounded in the plateau. that they would follow her hundreds of miles north seemed uncharacteristic and foolhardy...

what other pack, then? the wolves of dusk fire had long been vanquished, though she would argue they had been fordmiable. and the wolves of Blackfeather touted their skills, but were a feeble and selfish bunch; and what would be their motive...? she had offered them succor on more than one occasion, and had even returned when their end of the bargain had regretfully been unfulfilled —

her gaze lifted to the beast before her; was that it?

yet the last time she had been within the vicinity of the pack she had secretly tried to slip the knife into, it had been hardly more than a gaggle of easily antagonized kids. hell — they hadn’t even been able to kill lycaon and ingram .. and those two boys had been softer than a deer’s rotted belly. 

powerful warriors? she queried, her ears flicked forward in that customary and oh-so idle way of hers that signified the old cogs were churning, formulating, triaging..: are you representative of their finest? oh, she could be such a bitch — and someday it seemed it would all come back to her.

He laughed quietly, just a brief exhalation from his nostrils and a widening of his grin, and shook his head in humble fashion. I think it would be mighty presumptuous to say so, Vercingetorix replied, stretching slightly, the powerful muscles rippling under his sleek pelt. Maybe one day I'll get there, though.

Verx lifted his chin, staring her down. He was growing more comfortable with her as the moments ticked away, though he knew it could all go belly-up in a second. And you? he asked, ears swiveling slightly. Do you have a pack?

caiaphas kept a hidden smile as she noticed the male's shift in posture -- from cowed to becoming, he seemed to stand over her -- and stand over her he did, given the significant height advantage he possessed.

the sylph had always been one to weave things to her benefit: let men think they were in control, and they never suspected otherwise. too often they thought with their cock and their cock alone; how easily they were snared in the careful trappings laid out by shrews, some far more cunning than she.

he stared her down, and she allowed it -- a subtle, pleased expression lingering in the hawkish yellow of her gaze, which returned his stare in a full-bore bearing of studied patience. "no pack, but i do not travel alone. where do you and your powerful warriors lie?"

Of course you don't, he responded softly, something akin to respect blossoming once more in his gaze. Women like you always have an army close by. We're along the north coast, he explained, tipping his chin in that direction, the wind buffeting the thick fur around his neck. Like I said, haven't been there yet. Excited to see it, though.

Vercingetorix shifted his weight from paw to paw, still slightly uncomfortable and now bored. She was a little too old and far too frightening to flirt with, and he'd said too much already. He should go.

Maybe I'll see you around, he drawled, forgetting that they hadn't even exchanged names. Goodbye for now, though. He'd move to leave--unless she stopped him.

he was polite enough - minus the stare. caiaphas supposed if she had to be entertaining men, that his presence was preferable. she had always liked the cheeky men — it was one of the few reasons she had made a terrible nereides matriarch. 

he shared just enough for the sylph to devise her own conclusions about just which pack he heralded from - she said little else, though allowed a curt dip of her head in rejoinder.  

vale, stranger. the matriarch purled, watching as his long form turned to depart. she would linger a little longer — there was a cache or two that required her attention.