Blackfeather Woods Honey, whatchu waitin’ for? Welcome to my candy store!

@Nemesis @Atshen @Damien @Astrid

On graceful limbs, Malcanthet strode into the Wilds with the confidence coyness of a courtesan. It had been a while since he was out on his own like this. Even so, the young male was close to home, or escorted part of the way. He was left to his own devices, which was not always the best idea for the mischevious flirt. Malcanthet knew he had a duty to uphold, but it did not mean he could have some fun in a new land, with new opportunities, new people.

There was only one familiarity in this land; his Aunt had set up a sect here two years ago, when he was young, and his Uncle had followed afterwards to assist her. His mission was different than theirs, but he did not see the harm in visiting them...if he knew where they were, exactly.

After a bit of wandering aimlessly through the slowly warming land, he thought he found it. It was dark and foreboding, a crumbling House of Usher. But, to him, it simply looked like home. The familiar smell of Miraak filled the air, making the younger Melonii's heart palpatate at the thought of the younger sibling. He had not met Meldresi, her having left when he was but a pup, but Miraak? That was a different matter. With a howl, he summoned his uncle, as well as inadvertently summoning the other members instead.

Keeping vague about her relations XD

Instead of moping around all day, Astrid had decided to do something useful with her wanderlust. Again and again did she walk over the blood marked borders - eyes wandering every inch of what she could see of the unexplored lands. Maybe she looked crazy - maybe she was - but it did ease the pain and confusion just the slightest bit. Focusing on her breathing and placing one paw after the other was distracting - boring, but perhaps what she needed. She knew it was not her task to do this (nothing was) but she refrained from leaving the borders and run in potential packmates.

Only once, she believed, had she gone to the borders to greet a stranger. Again did a summoning howl call for them and the speckled girl looked over her shoulder. She wasn't far... Should she? She raised her head proudly with a determined, slightly angry face. With her tail almost curling onto her back did she go - did she greet the midnight man.

One eyebrow raised, there was no need to ask questions. Her expression said loud and clear; "What the hell do you want?" 

I have to keep this really vague because his fight with Damien AND his thread with Nem and Astrid... :P

 
Though Malcanthet's call had been Miraak, Atshen ceased the opportunity to meet the stranger who asked for the wolf that the Silencer held much respect before. His strides were meaningful as he diverted his path so that he head towards the borders. As he advanced, the wolf grew taller and more confident with every step, and eventually, these strides lead him to his sister's side. 

He stood at her side and offered a leveled glance in greeting. The look was one that held no emotion, but, provided respect-- namely because she had lied to their mother for him. 

Turning his attention to the violet-eyed stranger, who admittedly looked a lot like Miraak at first glace, and he picked himself up and pressed his ears forward to assert himself in the situation. Like Astrid, he did not offer any words of welcome. Instead, he waited, looking on expectantly as he anticipated the other's explanation.

There was a familiar howl that started him. He snorted in amusement as he recognized the vocals, his body instantly raising to find the source. Malcanthet. The son of his littermate Megara, whom he had trained in battle for the brief time he had with the boy before his courtesan training began. He had been close to him, as many Meloniis were to their relatives, and had been sad to leave him. He felt excitement as he grew closer, another, happy reminder of home now lingering at his doorstep.

He smiled as he saw the lithe male standing at the border. It was a pleasant surprise, the boy's appearance. His tail wagged in greeting as he stepped forward towards the boy, brushing past Atshen and Astrid. He wondered what their thoughts of him were, and what Malcanthet wanted with the Wilds in the first place, Tresy hen ñuha mandia, He greeted him, moving forward to brush noses with the younger man. What are you doing here?

He stretched with the casualness of one who owned this land, gently nudging the blood and gore. It was only Miraak's perfume that brought him here, but he could not deny the allure of the land. Dark, imposing, oppressive in stature, nevermind the black, ragged shadows circling the canopies and the dark red stains and clumps, the white bone.

A young girl approaches first, but she says nothing. Instead, she stares, her eyes doing the talking. The catamite stares back, his expression bright amusement. He waits her out, wondering how long she could take of such intense stares before she broke. But another came, another child, impressive and tall as he was. Malcanthet's gaze shifted between the two, before he smirked. Is this place run by children, then? He asked, wondering if either of them would talk, or if both were simply going to stare and watch. What kind of children were they raising here? Was it all a part of their vetting test?

He did not balk at their glares, mismatched and intense as they were. No, he waited for Miraak to come, humming to himself as he eyed the children, before a gasp caught in his throat, the larger, elder Melonii approaching. Miraak, He cooed, raising to his feet, tail wagging gently behind him. Lēkia hen ñuha muña, He smiled, Are they yours, or...? He could not believe that such a think a

There was no denying that the stranger at their borders was handsome - pretty, in a way, with the silvery makeup right underneath his indigo orbs. But sheer beauty would not earn Nyx's respect and admiration anymore - she had seen how simple looks could ruin all that one had. They made you trust the ones that were not to be trusted - love them no matter what they did to you... She did not have long to stare at him though, feeling the vibrations in the air and ground as her big "brother" and "strong leader" approached. Her bi-coloured eyes glanced at him, confused at the slightly respectful look back but did not point it out.

Is that a bad thing? She asked the stranger with a frown. While she did not answer to every command of Atshen, she did not allow anyone else to disrespect his title. In a way, she was pretty protective over Atshen - more than she would like to be. He was cruel, but at least he did not avoid her as so many seemed to do. She did not respect his title, his actions or his words - but she did respect him as a whole; a wolf, from the same litter or not.

As if Atshen's presence did not make things awkward enough, the old Miraak showed up shortly after and seemed to know the stranger. They called each other weird names and greeted much like family or friends would. It caused the raise of an eyebrow from Nyx, her freckles moving with the change in facial expression like a wave crashing onto a beach. She looked at Atshen then, as if to ask "what is happening?"

The violet-eyed stranger was quick to remark on his age, and the Silencer felt a small growl bubble in the back of his throat as if to warn the stranger for overstepping. Unlike Astrid, who came to his side despite their differences, Atshen did not offer anything of substance. Instead, he continued as was, vigilant in his standing as he stared down the stranger. 

It was in his starting that the scent of Miraak wafted over him, but, he did not draw him eyes away from the Executioner's lookalike. Instead, Atshen waited until the older man was upon the scene to judge the wolf on their doorstep. Drawing a step away from their affections, Atshen met his sister's inquiring glance with the raising of his brows, as if replying, I have no idea. 

Atshen and Astrid were forgotten for a moment, his tail swinging excitedly behind him as he greeted a living, true-blooded Melonii. It had been a few moons since he had seen anothe pair of dark blue eyes on raven fur, outside of his own reflection. They are not, He rumbles. He only had one child, but the pale monster had long since disappeared. In his mind, he is dead. I shall explain everything later, He promises, before turning to the bewildered Apaata children. This is Malcanthet Melonii; my nephew,. His eyes turn back to Malcanthet, This is Astrid and Atshen Apaata, He gestures to each as he names them, then takes a metaphorical step back to let the younger wolves speak to each other.

It can be, He says simply in response, vague in his meaning. He meant no disrespect in the observation, or at least, he knew that internally. Whether or not the pack was indeed led by youths rather than fully grown adults made no difference to him; he would linger, catch up with Miraak, and continue in his quest.

He is not sure if he is disappointed by Miraak's lack of new children; he had been one of the few Meloniis to mate outside their familial lines, but had only proven the weakness of doing so in the birth of his monsterous child Melkor. The name Apaata is unfamiliar to him, but Miraak promised revelations later. Perhaps, in a more secluded place. Charmed, He inclines his head to them both.

Her brother's look said enough; he had no idea what was going on either or was very good at hiding these things. The latter was possible, but she did not find this situation something to be secretive about. She decided to simply trust his eyes, dropping the discussion in her head with a glance at the other two men. She repositioned her head, considering the stranger's words. A bad leader was a bad leader - so, she guessed he was right; there was nothing to argue about for now. She nodded her tipped head in a way that said "well, alright - fair enough."

Miraak went on to introduce the two siblings, as if they couldn't do that themselves. She frowned. Call me Nyx. She nodded, trying her best to sound respectful as an uncomfortable feeling tickled her insides. Astrid was too much of the past - it had become grey to her and held no attachments to it anymore. Nyx was far more preferable. Short, straight to the point and simple. It is my pleasure, Malcanthet. She responded briefly.

With Miraak in the picture, it seemed as though the situation at the borders had been handled. In all honestly, Atshen was not the most inclined to stick around for long with the newcomer, especially when there were two other packmates to keep him company. He decided to linger at his sister's side, but not for too long. Instead, it was as his violet-eyed company was charmed that Atshen decided it was his time to exit the conversation. 

"I must get going," he said suddenly, shooting his speckled sibling a glance before turning to the reunited relatives once more. "I will tell Nemesis of your arrival, Malcanthet," he said, regarding the younger ebony-coated man. With a final glance at Nyx, as if bestowing the honour of keeping an eye on the two upon her, the brute turned from the conversing wolves and back into the shadows to do just as he had said: tell Nemesis of the new wolf that had happened across their borders.