Blackfeather Woods spirit cold

For @Damien. :)

Life for Muriel had been relatively easy. She had grown up with two doting parents, a few siblings, and had basically never had to worry about a single thing in her life. That is, until her father was killed by the loud bird that opened up the sky. That event was now two months behind her, and Muriel was looking worse for the wear, though not completely wretched just yet. Her white fur was no longer as fluffy as it had once been, and her eyes had a certain dullness to them, but she had enough meat on her bones that she wasn't going to drop dead this week (at least not from starvation).

When she came to the sudden sharp smell of a clearly marked border, she balked. Muriel was anything but stupid, and she knew better than to cross that line without expecting some backlash, so she hung back, nervously flitting her eyes about and lashing her tail. Would anybody find her here? Did she want them to find her here? Those questions would likely be answered sooner rather than later.

Heyy! Thanks for doing this :D
leaving things about my thread with Cicero vague cuz it's not done yet

Damien's night, as he had just decided, was something he did not want to talk about, especially with Cicero. Things were more confusing than ever, and Damien was kind of regretting letting his desires make the decisions. He felt things had changed too much with his brother now, and that was the last thing he wanted.

To clear his mind Damien decided to take a shift at the borders. Winter was a busy time there anyways, so he believed his help would be appreciated. He walked absent-mindedly along the treeline, almost missing a lone female skulking close by. When he realized, he turned all his attention to her, which wasn't always a good thing. To Damien, the female seemed to be debating whether to sneak in, and he did not stop to think it over a second time.

"Hey! What are you doing?" he barked, and then closed the distance with sure foot and dominant body-language. As far as Damien knew Blackfeather Woods wasn't recruiting this season, so the chances for the girl to meet an invitation were poor.

Just as she expected, Muriel was soon greeted by an imposing pack wolf. Everything about him screamed "back down," and so she did just that. Muriel had no intention of causing trouble, nor did she want to lose her head today. "Hi, um..." she mumbled, floundering for words. "I'm Muriel. I just"—the girl glanced around nervously—"I'm looking for a home." Did she need to say more than that? Should she say more than that? Things had been so much easier before.

"Could I make this my home?" she asked, her own eyes never meeting his. Doing so would have been a challenge, and Muriel did not want to challenge him. She wanted him to invite her in.

Damien was pleased when the female stood down showing proper respect, enough for him to relax a little even when he still doubted of her real intentions. According to her she was in search for a home, and by the looks of it she hadn't had a proper meal in days. Both those things told Damien that the girl didn't do very well at pulling her own weight, which once again made him doubtful... And uncharacteristically sorry. Damien watched into Muriel's eyes even though she wasn't doing the same, and he noticed the fear inside her.

"What happened to your home?" asked Damien, not wanting to make a call he didn't have the authority to make himself, but not being able to reject her just yet.

"Oh, it's"—she broke off, not quite sure how to answer that question—"It's still there, but my dad... he died. A big loud bird broke the sky and then he was bleeding and..." Muriel trailed off, not sure really where to go from there. "I can't do it on my own." Wolves were pack animals, after all, and Muriel did not stray from that natural instinct. She needed to be around others. This lonesome life was not for her. Not one little bit.

The girl shifted awkwardly back and forth on her feet, yellow green eyes boring holes into the ground. She supposed that it could have been worse. She could have been attacked on sight, and yet she hadn't been. This wolf seemed to at least be willing to hear her case. "Can I stay? Please?"

Damien was listening attentively, actually making a effort to care about the female's story, but as soon as she mentioned the "big loud bird" part his attention was broken. The rest, it was blurry and unimportant, Damien was too curious about that story now to pay mind to her tragic loss.

"Stop begging," demanded Damien, his tone a bit colder now than before. The female's anxiousness was unsettling Damien, and her shaky voice was unnerving. "Tell me about the big loud bird," he asked with curious eyes. How this would help him decide whether she could stay, he did not know, but Damien had already started feeling that Burke wouldn't be too compassionate to a sack of bones like Muriel when he had the twins to feed and worry about.

"Stop begging," he insisted, and so she did. Muriel fell silent at once, biting her tongue. It was just so hard being out here all by herself, and she was beginning to lose touch with reality. She needed this, and the last thing she wanted to do was screw it up.

"Tell me about the big loud bird," he said, and Muriel complied without hesitation. "It was unlike anything I've ever experienced," she began. "It did not fly like a normal bird. It just hovered there above us, kicking up snow everywhere. It was so loud, I couldn't even hear myself think. We all ran away from it, but it still hurt my dad. There was so much blood everywhere." Truth be told, Muriel still couldn't explain exactly what had happened on that day. Afterward, she, her mother, and her siblings had been unable to hunt enough to feed themselves, and so they had parted ways.

It was sad listening to Muriel's story, and even painful to see her suffer the way she was. The tale of the hovering bird that killed her father had been interesting, even intriguing, but it was even sadder that she hadn't been able to awaken a shred of sympathy in Damien for her... No one could blame her, though, Damien was cold like that, and Blackfeather Woods simply wasn't a pack who blindly took wolves in just because they're hopeless.

"Listen... This pack will be no better for you than solitude. The wolves that claim these lands are unforgiving and ruthless, and none of them will take the food out of their mouths to give it to you." he explained quickly, trying to talk her out of even trying. "You wouldn't survive a day."

He insisted that pack life would be no better, and Muriel was on the verge of giving up. She could turn around and starve to death, or she could keep insisting and maybe have a chance at staying here. Or he would just outright kill her. Even that seemed a better end than slowly withering away until she was a pile of skin and bones.

"I won't survive much longer than a day out here," she replied vehemently, her brow furrowing in determination. Why was he turning her away? Once she had a more stable environment, she could regain her strength and give back. But she needed somebody to take a chance on her. If not him, who?

One after the other, the female gave Damien more reasons not to take her in. The female had survived this long, but it was true that she wouldn't last a full day out there alone. She was weak, it was the middle of winter and the pack had mouths to feed. They couldn't afford making space for someone who clearly couldn't pull their own weight. It was a risk they did not need to take. A part of Damien felt bad about it, but the rest of him was screaming for him to reject the female.

"Then you better walk fast," Growled Damien before the female could even finish her sentence. This time, his tone had changed completely. It was clear that Damien did not want to see her near again. "Leave," he ordered, and that would be the last word Muriel would hear of his voice.

"No," she replied, standing her ground. Muriel would fight him for it, defiant as she was. Her yellow-green eyes locked onto his in a challenge and her ears pressed forward. She was sick of this loner life. Muriel would rather die a quick death than a drawn out one. Her tail lashed back and forth and she braced herself for his attack.

Damien didn't see it coming. He was confident that a simple threat would be enough to scare the girl away, next thing Damien knows she's refusing to move an inch. It was pathetic in a sense, her being so small to challenge a beast like Damien was in comparison to her, but it didn't amuse the dark yearling. No, he didn't enjoy being contradicted.

At this point there was no turning back, Damien had already made up his mind about the female's request and had been very clear about it. It didn't help either that she was trying to pull a spot in the pack out of Damien by force, that was simply stupid.

Damien lunged, jaws wide open and fangs aimed at the female's throat. He was serious about his threat, and he wouldn't repeat himself. His words had been final. And the next thing Damien would do, if the female didn't manage to out-run him, was spread the girl like butter all over the borders of Blackfeather Woods as a statement to those who -like Muriel- thought they could challenge him and get away with it.

His attack connected, and Muriel was bested. She crumpled immediately, going limp. It was a natural defense mechanism for a girl who knew she would not be able to win the fight. Suddenly, dying did not seem quite as appealing as living. She waited for a break in his attack, and then fled as quickly as she could, feet pounding the ground as she scampered away from Blackfeather Woods.