Moonspear Every occasion, know I'm ready for the funeral

It had been too long....he'd owed Hydra a visit long before now but he was glad he'd waited. His head was raised high, the way he walked to the borders of Moonspear carried the seriousness of his intention with ever step. The second he stood at the borders he lifted his muzzle and summoned @Hydra adding in a call for any warriors of Moonspear who wished to be present for what was to be discussed. Now he had all he needed on Ursus to tell Hydra it was time....they had numbers of their own, regardless of whether Dove or Hemlocke were the types to fight they were still of use. With him, Derg, Donovan and Nyra ready to fight he was certain Moonspear would be enough to tear that despicable pack apart.....and he was more than ready, filled to the brim with bloodlust and a hunger for vengeance 

Desdemona was always one of the first people to arrive when there was visitors. There was never a call toward her, but when it was directed to Hydra, she was always in the shadows as an optional backup. The visitor was familiar, and when the dark warrior descended from the mountain, she saw it was Valour.

Though as stoic, and cold as ever, she only offered a nod of silence, awaiting for the Alpha's to approach. He summoned them in specific, perhaps it was another information on something about Nightwalkers, or where he is currently settling too. After all, he did smell like a pack-wolf.

can skip me, next round!!

Hydra had been nearby, and so when she heard the call of Valour she was prompt in meeting him. Her temper, and her fuse, was dangerously short given the absence of her daughter and all that she knew existed within the Wilds—and so to see him there, upon her borders, with his head held so high... she had not the patience or the tolerance for the disrespect. 

And so it was not with kindness that Hydra greeted him, but an openmouthed snarl and the proud arc of her tail. It was only that she knew him that she did not seek to bleed him dry then and there—and he could not know how terribly she wished he was a stranger so that she could—but he had precious few seconds to right his wrong before even that would not save him. Know your place, every lifted hair upon her screamed, submit now, he would hear in the thunder of her snarl.

While not a warrior, the silver-touched valkyrie would respond anyway, up and moving to join the one at the borders who so strongly requested the presence of the Queen so specifically. Keres found such a call curious and wondered, more than a little, at the reason for it. Nevertheless, she would make her way to the borders, joining her packmate and her queen in silence. A gently shoulder bump occurred, a wordless greeting to the female before she watched to see what the male would do when presented with such an agressive display of dominance.

The only answer acceptable, of course, would be for him to submit.

The voice was one he recognized and Bronco, who felt perhaps that the valiant male had changed his mind and had decided to at last join with them, pattered his way toward the borders with a bit of a bounce to his step. He was made curious, of course, given the fact that Valour was calling for Hydra and her warriors, rather than calling for a guardian, but he knew nothing of what the male had been up to since their last meeting. Bronco felt fairly assured that Valour was visiting with the intention of joining them and perhaps even contributing to the fortified extension of Moonspear which spread into the Glen. 

He found himself somewhat nervous when he saw the tense figure of Hydra commanding respect, and wondered how much had transpired before he'd arrived. He'd been careful to mind his alpha, lately, in the wake of Mira's disappearance, as it had indeed settled heavily upon her nerves, straining them. Quietly, he approached but remained near Keres and Desdemona, a silent presence who- for want of peace- offered a small bob of his head to Valour who seemed to have stepped unwittingly into a fairly tense situation. Poor guy, Bronco thought- but he would not begrudge Hydra for being so on edge, either, for being worried sick about her daughter.

The howl drew him forth, though by the time he reached the borderland others had gathered. He heard the peel of Hydra’s snarl at the head of the group and bristled in response. His gaze found Valour then and his brow furrowed at the display between the two; last time he had checked, Valour was an ally of theirs in a sense, though he didn’t know what to make of the lad. His pack was gone, presumably he was still loosed to the wilds. Dirge knew what Hydra had asked of him and he wondered if he had come holding the information at last.

And then he thought of Mira, and the what ifs started.

He forced them away to better read the scene before him, sticking close to the quartet, lingering to the back by his sister. His gilded gaze locked on the yearling to see if he would comply, knowing that regardless of what he had to offer he could be forced, and that information taken from him one way or another. They did not have time to waste when there was searching yet to do.

The first to arrive was the she wolf who'd regarded him so coldly before. This time when she nodded Valour was quick to return it lowering his chin to the Moonspearian warrior before Hydra rushed forward. There hadn't been any intention to offend Hydra, in fact he was so confused by the hostility and assumed he'd done something wrong that he dropped to his belly and turned halfway over looking up at the fearsome obsidian queen with a blatant expression of shock and fear. "I'm sorry Hydra, I forgot myself because of the news I brought" the words rushed quickly out of his mouth ears pinning back as he watched the kind brown furred man from his last visit and then Dirge approach. So many....had he actually done something wrong? What if Hydra had heard about The Saints already and thought he'd turned against her? "I know where Ursus is and have a pack ready to go to war" there....that should put her temper at ease right? He didn't move, muscles tense as he lay upon the ground at her feet waiting to be told he could get up. 

His swift reaction was met with a swiftness of her own. One foreleg outstretched over Valour as she looked down at him from above, her teeth now sheathed and eyes dark. He seemed to remember himself however, and the matriarch withdrew to allow him room again to stand; she was calmed by his display, and was just as quick to forgive. 

It was the words that came next that caused her eyes to snap in his direction. He had found Ursus and come to her, with a pack prepared to fight. Valour, she drawled, pleased with the sudden turn of events, spare me no details. Which pack have you joined to rally to this cause? her ears fanned forward; Hydra, sharp-nosed though she was, had not a scent for the Saints nor Donovan. While she knew Nyra's, the woman had not yet picked up upon that particular note; he wore several beyond her, and the truth of it was that in him she had not thought to seek it—testament enough of her faith in him, given their own history.

Spare me no details...

Valour knew that couldn't be so yet...there had to be a certain level of honesty provided about who he stood with. He looked to Desdemona and Bronco, familiar yet two different demeanors and then to the stranger who'd shown this time around. What would they think of the risky business he'd brought to their doorstep? Would they think it was worth taking out Ursus, to ally with a pack that swung in morality somewhere between Nightwalkers and Ursus themselves?  "We are called The Saints Of The Dying Light, lead by Donovan Azura...They were allies with Ursus before I joined but Merrick and his mute lady friend ruined that through violence and harming one of our own. Donovan makes me think of what Vengeance could have been if he'd been..less insane. We'd be good use to Moonspear in terms of war and strength. Plenty of medics and I'm sure we can find more herbs and provide that too" he paused there letting her absorb this. Once again the youngness showed in the way he phrased matters. Stepping back and lowering his head he poised himself not as an Ex Warlord but a mere soldier, a messenger working to bring together two strong packs to wipe out the worst of any evil. "Donovan is...crude but he doesn't mean any disrespect. The Saints have been denied the chance to settle and make peace with anyone for as long as I've been around without good reason aside from the Ursus association. I'd imagine all we'd ask of you is nuetrality for the time being to work together against Ursus, simply off the trust that we all want to shed their blood. Donovan trusts me as well as maybe his second in command...he's a curious one...a good man. I am going to be third beneath them soon, so you'll have me there as your insider. We'll be moving closer to here respectfully distanced of course and away from Ursus. I can bring Donovan to you...we can all discuss this together if you trust me when I say that The Saints will survive and be a much stronger pack than Nightwalkers ever could have been"  during and after he'd finished his speech he'd averted his gaze, just like his posture had been lowered he made sure Hydra would see he was only trying his best to be respectful...but he had to keep The Saints in mind too and how realistically the potential of a true alliance lay in how matters were handled after the war against Ursus was over if the fiercesome queen of Moonspear would even agree to it. 

And spare details it seemed, he did not.

Dirge listened, his eyes resting on Valour with interest to see just what it was that he would offer them. But as he spoke, he felt the turn of much darker thoughts come about to what was said, and it left him with more questions than answers about these so-called Saints. There had been the gentle murmurings from others about them and what they consisted of, what their practices were, and perhaps they were all none too dissimilar to the tales that they had heard turned about the Nightwalkers, and before them the wolves that had lived in Blackfeather.

He came closer to Hydra then, brushing gently against her.

“Sounds like a charlatan’s pitch if ever I heard one,” he said to her.

There had been too much emphasis on the worth of his newfound comrades; Dirge wondered if Valour had been swindled because of his youth, because of the failings of the pack that he had found himself in charge of. The boy had an ambitious streak to him, he thought, and it had displayed itself time and time again. Running with another, even if it was like what he had been brought up and into seemed not to have curbed it—his leader may have been crude, but so was he in his own minute ways.

“A crude leader often commands a questionable retinue of subordinates—what of the misdeeds that have fallen on our ears from your neighbors and ours? Perhaps you should shed light on those, if you can,” he went on, this time to Valour directly. For as smooth and neutral as he held his tone, it was a challenge on purpose and thinly veiled; if the boy wanted them to throw in so badly with his comrades, Dirge needed more convincing and did not hide his lack of conviction.

skipping the queue with permission; my timelines are a bit sketchy so i tried to be vague here

Visibly so, her eyes narrowed with a scornful look. Never once did the guard doubt her intution of this man- and in the end, she was right. Two-faced, pledging to the loyalties of Hydra and Moonspear, but in return he graced himself in the ranks of barbarians who attacked innocents, and those who allied to the mountain. 

And he, defended the man who as Dirge stated; commanded questionable events and preformed them as well. She could feel herself bristle, but remained steady as a keen eye was looking at Hydra for command. She was at awe' of the audacity this man said as he dared to say the heathen 'doesn't mean disrespect.'

Yet, that man created numerous enemies and those who were allied with Moonspear, such as Yuelong, and yet Valour joined such a pack. Her image of this man had plummeted so far, but it was already low. There was a mutual enemy, but at the same time, the Saints were everyone's enemy.

still skippable; commentary!

Hydra listened in complete silence, ever still even as her mate drew alongside her. She could sense the disquiet around her, and understood it entirely. For her own part, she felt no measure of unease. The Saints lay their cards on the table before her, asking for a foothold somewhere so as to not go careening towards their death. Their terms were tentative, but Hydra had plenty to say about that. 

Near here? No, she started with, voice dark. If he thinks to settle anywhere near my door, he will find the place to be his final resting place as well. He has threatened too many, done too much, to be allowed that much now, came her smooth voice. Hydra did not think that many would come to visit his grave but to piss on it and to chew on the bones left there. And as for him being a good man? Hydra knew better than that. They all did, except for Valour. But Valour was not a good man, either, just as she was not a good woman. Like often called to like. In any event, Neverwinter was near too, and they had posed a threat to them; Hydra would allow none of that to happen further, having already seen a Saint skulk the wilderness for information on their band. Too many young children there, and here, for her to allow them that room. 

Drawing in a quiet breath, Hydra's ear flicked as her mate requested he shed a brighter light on incidents past. For her own part, Hydra hardly cared for the method behind the madness—only the madness. And that was what Donovan was; a madman. And those sort were so very predictable. Still, it added some sense of thrill to be had... if only she could determine whether their bone to pick with Ursus was truly real or not. Oh, for Valour it was she knew; but they, Ursus and the Saints, had been allies. Attacking one wolf had ended that all... two madmen, not one, and one mute. 

Hydra's mind lingered on that mute. Women were far more clever than men. It was @Astara (nameless, to the matriarch) that Hydra estimated was the greatest threat of all; no doubt, she swayed the man that led them more than any other... And it seemed to her that the Saints despised the mute as much as she did. 

That much, Hydra could work with.

All this she thought on in silence, letting Valour continue to say his piece while she determined what the best course to take in this was. On one hand, they could be rid of the Saints—on the other, Ursus, but with the assistance of the Saints. Some who might die in the battle, causing numbers to dwindle for natural causes. A pity. Easier to take care of them this way too, though, should the Saints continue their nonsaintly path... 

And she also found in her the desire to meet with this Donovan. Unsound, unsafe—proverbially muzzled by her own dirty, calloused hands that would come to offer him several bones should he be a good dog. And a bullet through the head should he be a bad one. 

No commands or futher words, yet. She wanted to give Dirge room to decide too, and respected his moment on the floor as she mulled things over with not a single indication given to the thoughts that shifted throughout her mind.

Just a quick one- potentially skippable next round
-edits to put in OOC tags and say that this was NOT in fact a "quick one" oops

Bronco remained a part of the silent guard who seemed to have fallen into a mode of observation, though attentively waiting to be called in for input or response should their leaders call upon them to do so. He remained focused, and flicked his ears forward when they were informed that Valour had found where Ursus was- though his posture stiffened slightly when he mentioned going to war with them. 

His first reaction was to be grateful for the man in scouting out the location of one of the two packs he was currently worried about. As long as they knew where the Ursus wolves were, they might be able to let their whole pack- and Neverwinter as well- know to avoid that area. They might even be able to gather up enough muscle and find the right time to simply pay the Ursus wolves a visit and intimidate them into moving further away- or at least, putting on enough of a show of strength so that they would think twice before attacking another wolf, especially a Moonspearian. If Valour had found another pack to rally with him, then things certainly looked better. Maybe they could even taken on Ursus and then the Saints!

And he might've said as much, had he not told himself to stay quiet, and let the leaders do the talking. He would find out only moments later how important it was, sometimes, to do just that. He would have sounded quite stupid if he'd piped up and suggested they take on Ursus and the Saints when Valour breathed in- and admitted that that was the pack he had joined. 

He wasn't sure if he was hit by disappointment or betrayal first, but he was shocked, regardless. He might not have been as skilled at hiding the blatant surprise on his features either, and he fidgeted lightly, casting a glance from leader to leader, and then to his comrades. Desdemona looked as though she had already passed judgement- and for a wolf who normally showed so little emotion, the narrowing of her eyes had all the more impact on him. It must've really rubbed her the wrong way to make the austere guardian show her thoughts, even in a subtle way. 

Dirge seemed unimpressed, and Hydra infalliable. Neither would tolerate having the Saints settle near them, nor did they seem keen on joining an alliance with the Saints simply for the sake of targeting Ursus. He knew that Hydra and Valour had had a friendship once- and it upset him to imagine how she felt now, knowing that someone she had once trusted now alligned himself with a pack they had nothing but horrible things about. He glanced to Dirge; he looked just as skeptical. Valour was losing friends quickly, it seemed. And it did not seem as though Hydra was willing to offer the Saints leader much tolerance, either. And while he knew he might be speaking out of place, he felt that the meeting might come to a rather abrupt halt if Valour decided they weren't worth the time- but there was something he hoped to glean from the male, even if he now owed them nothing. 

"Valour...Can you tell us where Ursus is?" He asked quietly. Considering the fact he'd just been denied, more or less, the possibility of having the Saints ally with Moonspear, he was fully prepared for Valour to decide not to answer his question and leave their whereabouts unknown simply out of spite...But he couldn't help but ask, and hope that Valour had a shred of compassion, still, for the wolves he'd once looked up to.

It stung.

The man.

The one who was the second reason he'd hunted Ursus down off of Santiago and Clay's direction and information. For the attack held upon his son, Valour had sworn to do his best and here he was called a liar. Swallowing down a lump of bile that was part anger and part wounded honor. The dropping of his gaze was no longer out of respect but shame and vulnerability as he struggled to regain his thoughts. His breath turned shallow though he was trained and brainwashed well enough it did not show with the steady rise and fall of his flanks. He stared wide eyed at the ground trying to think of some way to ignore Dirge and mantain that trust he knew he had secured with Hydra. "The Straith. Below the falls. Not far from where I once lead. You can allow this knowing we hold absolutely no ill will toward anyone can't you?" he gave their location away his eyes remaining on the ground his voice quivering.

Why was he doing this?

He wasn't a warlord.

 Clay was dead and he'd failed to protect his body.

Clarence was murdered and the killer running free.

He wasn't worth shit so why was he here?

"Can you tell us where Ursus is?" 

Then came a voice. He glanced up with the eyes of a shaken youth, finding the male cloaked in browns and searching his gaze. This was a kind man...someone with the honorable heart he always felt a softness for. Nodding ever so slightly he turned his gaze to Hydra "South of Easthollow. In a valley surrounded by walls. This is where Ursus lays I've been there myself. I can bring you again" he dropped his eyes again and slunk backward shaking his head "If I'm a Charlatan then you didn't know Vengeance before he was overturned.  You allied with a Rapist. A murderer. A child enslaver. He was killed by a girl I saved. She left shortly after and I took over, I came to keep my promise ma'am. I kept our loyalty when he fell. I maintained Nightwalkers long enough for the children to grow and the ones not swept away by Ursus to become honorable and strong young men. Sir...I promised to do my best to bring you justice for your son in return for your promise. Am I not doing that now by offering a pack with no other common interest to risk their lives for it?" he let that settle there and exhaled slowly praying to whatever higher power existed that his words didn't hit the wrong way "We plan to move to the Straith. Below the falls. North of where Nightwalkers live but not by far and far away we'd still have to travel a day and through mountain to reach you. We have no fight with Yuelong anymore as long as they stay away, If you ask I'm sure Donovan will explain how crazy Nemesis was and how he took her out and Yuelong kept attacking" he shook his head slowly and closed his eyes his tail drooping between his legs "Please Hydra...together we have a chance and all The Saints want for now is to live and take out Ursus to ensure that. I don't know what Donovan's game plan is afterward but it doesn't involve any harm toward Yuelong. I made a promise to give you information and I gave it first but I'm asking you accept our assistance and let us show that while he have a bad name like Nightwalkers we're even more valuable. If I fail then you are free to turn on The Saints as well and I will fight beside you, as promised" once again he felt the slithering sensation crawl down his spine like a shiver but slimier. He thought of Donovan and Nyra, of the pair of medics made of light and dark....there was more to the wolves he lived with then the title of 'Savage' yet again only he seemed to understand it. 

She remained silent all the while, listening, observing, and thinking. While she trusted the judgement of her leaders, she had never been one to let others think for her. She could be a good and loyal pack member while still retaining her sense of self, passing her own judgements and making her own calls. This is what she did now as she stood with Bronco and Desdemona, eyes lingering on the wolf that had come to their borders.

The man prostrated before Hydra, if not with his body then with his words, spinning ‘round and ‘round the topic, answering one question and ignoring another. It was as if a hose was on full blast and the boy had yet to find the spigot so that he may turn it off. It was so much, in fact, that Keres wondered if he was not trying to convince Hydra or Dirge of all this, but himself, as though his beliefs were a broken string of pearls that he sought to keep from spilling and scattering everywhere.

The begging, the “Please Hydra”, the attempts to convince the Queen of the Mountain, all of it sat wrong with the woman and it was now that words welled in her throat, finding her voice in the judgmental silence. Perhaps she spoke out of turn, but it was surely something that needed to be addressed, and perhaps, it was something that lingered in the back of all their minds.

 You are so quick to pledge your teeth to the mountain against those you have given your loyalty to. For if he was not loyal, why would he be here trying to form an alliance between the Spear and the Saints? Why would he be trying so hard? How are we supposed to trust that you have not also pledged those same teeth to the Saints should nothing come of this? A pause, and then she spoke again, the deeper question being asked. How are we supposed to trust you?