Arrow Lake this one's for us

What should have been a three day's journey turned into four, eventually becoming five. Stephanie was growing weaker by the day, and what sane part of her remained knew that joining a pack was the smartest thing for her to do. Her once muscular physique had become a sad sack of skin and matted fur, bones poking through on either side. Her eyes had begun to form a glaze, the right thicker than the left; it was what Daddy Bruce referred to as le regard de la mort -- the gaze of death. Still, even with her health on an obvious decline, Stephanie held fast to her ability and the thought that she could contribute just as much as anyone else.

For a while, she was unsure. Stephanie had passed by countless borders, choosing to continue on, even with knowing what that meant. Maybe it was instinct that had been the final straw, or maybe it was her recent run-ins. Unlike most, she'd never been able to outrun her ghosts. The night before, she'd posted a few yards away from the border, hoping to regain some energy before making her case to whomever. Even as she stood, having just made the call, Stephanie remained unsure.

a virile answer to the solicitor's call sprung up just as her voice died below the wind, and it sounded near, promising a swift arrival. but the general made no rush to meet the loner. quite the opposite, he remained fixed to the shadows; coming to a distant standstill, and observing the brilliantly colored caller from afar. his approach after this initial appraisal was much quicker. stigmata came to loom before the dwindling creature with a hard look in his eye and stern jaw.

he had lived long enough, and seen enough types of death to know this she-wolf was not well. there was no shortage of prey this spring, and only a sick or particularly inept predator would be this thin - alone or not. if not her blood diminishing her, then it was stupidity doing her in, and the general had little patience for charity these days. "yes?" the wolf asked in a quiet sort of demand.

he thought bitterly that she would be better off with the wolves in the vale, who seemed hellbent on taking anyone, even the invalid, into their unambitious fold; but this same cynicism applied to the wolves of elysium, who he could not bring himself to hate despite their utterly baffling existence. either way, diaspora was not a place for the ailing, and stigmata cocked his head at her skeptically.

Stephanie knew that she had a lot to prove. It was easy to immediately assume (correctly, too) that she was weak, posing as more of a burden than an aid. She knew what it looked like, and although most of the warrior she'd once been had been lost, she still knew how to hold her own. Moreover, she was confident that if she couldn't put her own knowledge into action, she could teach someone else. Anyway, none of this was of any use unless Stephanie actually said it. 

I've come to join, she replied, head low and eyes just high enough to peek at the male before her, I'm a mercenary -- retired mercenary, and a scout. Most of what Stephanie knew about the latter had been forgotten, but that was neither here nor there.

had she been healthier, stigmata would have been partial towards her acceptably curt introduction. it was the same air of no-nonsense that he had grown up with, and he could appreciate it, even if it was found upon the features of a sickly she-wolf. and of course it was all about appearances with him, so like it or not, she had more to prove than the average joiner if she truly wanted anything from him.

"awful young to be retired," the warhound brooded, looking her over critically. "diaspora is no hospice, my lady. there are... kinder packs in the area for your condition."

Despite having had all of the signs, Stephanie had convinced herself that this was no death sentence. Rather, she strongly believed that she would pull through, perhaps even stronger than before. Giving a slight lift to her head, so not as to challenge, Stephanie continued, Retired from my days on the border, maybe, but I can still teach. Spring was beginning to make way for summer, and for most packs, that meant that there were pups, just old enough to start training. 

I taught my own, she said, lowering herself once again. It wasn't necessarily true, but it wasn't false either. She had once made plans to teach Malachi, but life had a way of turning plans onto their head. Sickness might have made my body weak, but I'm still here. Another lie, but who's counting?

the iron liege's ears twitched faintly, and his chin lifted mutely as he mulled over her words. teachers were invaluable to him, and despite his misgivings stigmata's tail began to sway - illustrating a softening consideration of her. but the motion was stilled as soon as the term sickness fell from her tired lips. the male's expression darkened to a harrowing point, and his entire body became visibly tense and impassable. his first instinct was to end her, for all the prejudices he held for ailing wolves. she could be a danger to his very young children, which also meant that directing her towards elysium was out of the question.

"if you are sick, i will not have you," he decreed, having once watched a sick wolf grow delirious with hunger and turn on his own mate. stigmata wouldn't have such a risk here, but he had no qualms about sending a potentially dangerous body to another. "the wolves of the vale seem inexperienced. they may have use of your expertise, and they claim to care for the ill."

Feeling the tension grow, Stephanie decided that her time at this border was coming quickly to an end. Seeing as she'd never had much hope to begin with, this denial didn't weigh too heavy. She gave a courteous nod to the brute for his time, then turned and began to move away. After having created a few yards of distance between the two of them, she turned over her shoulder and called, Happy Spring. Good luck to your pack, before disappearing.

though unfortunate she could not be convinced to throw her sickly body towards his proposed enemies, the general couldn't have asked for a more appreciated departure. it was swift and (seemingly) without any hard feelings -- he had to be grateful, even if it wasn't entirely what he wanted. he followed her trail a few miles out, to make sure she had gone, and only returned to his children after an appropriately chilling dunk in the lake.