Otter Creek Only here for the weekend

Wildfire decided to take a slightly different route this time, staying east of the Sunspire Mountains. She intended to travel south along the range's fringe, eventually making her way across the foothills of Sawtooth Spire before heading due west to Redhawk Caldera. The journey would take nearly a week, depending on the pace and how often they (@Arlo would accompany her) stopped to feed or rest. Although she was eager to reconnect with her family members down south, Wildfire wasn't in any rush and planned to maintain a steady but unhurried clip.

Everything went beautifully according to plan, though a heavy rain began to fall when Wildfire and Arlo arrived at the base of Sawtooth's familiar peak. Despite the onslaught, the scout and her escort did not stop except to pause and reset their course in the direction of the setting sun (currently obscured by gray clouds). They might even reach her birthplace by nightfall, a thought which made Wildfire's heart skip a beat even as they stumbled across a burbling creek and she suddenly slipped in the mud.

"You should find somewhere dry to hang out while I clean up this mess," Wildfire said to Arlo, sludge dripping from her face and much of the rest of her slender red body. The rain was helping but she was eyeing the creek, swollen and rushing with the rainfall. "I'll howl for you when I'm ready to keep going," she added, motioning the guard toward the nearby crags before stepping toward the cold rapids and beginning to dip in each body part, one by one.

"Come, @Relmyna," he commanded as they left their turf. The rain was inconvenient, but it was warm enough that he did not care and it would make for cleaning when he returned. She looked dismal for a moment, he thought to recognise on the mess that was her face, but as he gave a stern glare it went away. Sheogorath had considered the thought of breeding with her, but for now it was a thought pushed away, for it seemed better to focus on good heritage. She was clearly not that, even if she had become loyal and subservient following her near-death experience. She had lost everything — he had made her lose everything — and now she was just a shell, a ghost. A thing he had thought he'd fancy, a plaything, but it was growing dull and so of late he had used her mostly as plaything and servant. His real attentions shifted, but after being effortless with Damien and driving him into madness, he had set his sights upon his sister. Time would prove if their moment had been a fluke or if it would lead to something more.

He looked like a skeleton moving through the lands as he made his way towards the creek. Relmyna followed, obedient as ever, the shell of the wolf she once used to be. Her fur clung to her body too, and she looked bad, he realised, though not nearly as bony as he did.

"Ah," Sheogorath said as he spotted a plant he was looking for. "This will do nicely." He gestured at Relmyna and she plucked the plant, root and all, and placed it on her back. It was while she did this that Sheogorath noticed another in the distance, braving the creek. It sloshed with water from the heavy rainfall as she dipped her feet into it. "Don't make a sound," he warned and then sank his teeth into Relmyna's shoulder. She sank to the ground with a whine muffled by the rain. With his paw he moved the plant he had just plucked to her wound and rubbed it in — causing the wound to bubble. Anyone who would touch it now would suffer the same fate poor Relmyna was facing; being numbed and disoriented. "Stay," he said with a wicked smile on his face before he turned away, turning his expressiveness to distress and he galopped the way of the wolf.

There was always plan B if she didn't fall for this, but it was too fun to not try. "Help! My friend was attacked!" he called out to her when he was next to her, shouting to reach over the rain. "You —" That was when he realised that Cicero had once met this wolf. "Please," he begged, "Please hurry, she's bleeding and I... I can't do it alone." Pleading eyes filled with a lot more emotion than that day his alter ego had first met this wolf stared at her, begging her to come.

It would be most convenient if there were others of the pack near in case she would suspect something and try to run for it. He trusted his own speed but he did not trust his strength. At least the heavy rain helped with muffling sounds if she would try to call for help or anyone else that was decent was nearby.

She didn't check to see if Arlo had heeded her or decided to stick close. Wildfire concentrated on scrubbing the sludge out of her fur, starting with her paws and then moving upward gradually. She was just deliberating over how best to wash off her face—should she tip it back, let the rain take care of it, or dunk it in the rapids?—when a shout badly startled her.

Her head snapped to the left, eyes squinting at a two-toned figure approaching rapidly through the rainfall. The wet fur along her spine prickled warily as he raced toward her and she braced her legs as she turned to face him properly. He was shouting about his friend who was injured. Wildfire immediately shot a glance behind him but she didn't see anyone.

She wanted to glance behind her to see if Arlo was there but she didn't dare take her eyes off the stranger, especially when she realized she recognized him, though she couldn't place him at all. "Hey, do I know you?" Wildfire asked, raising her voice slightly to be heard. But she didn't wait for an answer before adding, "Where's your friend? What do you need?" Neither she nor Arlo were medics and though Wildfire didn't feel suspicious—especially since there was that vague sense of familiarity—she really wasn't sure what she could offer these wolves in need.

Sheogorath decided to use the advantage of the rush to get her moving as quickly as possible. She asked if she knew him and he looked bewildered, as if he couldn't understand she'd ask such a question at a time like this (even though he'd recognised her, too, in a flash when he started speaking). He looked over his shoulder to where Relmyna was, but he couldn't see her right now; must be because of the heavy rain and because she had fallen over.

"This way!" Sheogorath urged her on and he started leading the way back towards Relmyna, making sure he was being followed. "I can get some herbs to help her, but I need someone to clean the wound in the meantime so it doesn't infect. She was attacked by — shit, I don't know, something — I didn't see what happened because of the rain but they must've fled because I got there." It wouldn't take long for them to get back there, since Sheo'd seen Wildfire in the distance from where he had bitten Relmyna, and Sheogorath felt the tingle of anticipation in his gut as he considered whether he'd manage to get her to lick the wound and, hopefully, get infected with the same shit he had infected Relmyna with.

At last, she tore her eyes off the stranger and squinted through the rainfall, searching for Arlo. Why had she sent him away? Wildfire considered howling for him but she didn't think she'd be able to raise her voice enough for him to hear over this deluge. Gnawing at her lip, she faced the two-toned wolf again. There was a sense of urgency and though she had some misgivings, they were small. She nodded at him.

"I'll help in any way I can," she shouted, an edge of dubiousness in her voice. Wildfire could certainly clean a wound, though she wouldn't be much good otherwise. "I'm no medic though." She lapsed into silence as she fell into step behind him, before suddenly wondering aloud, "Hey, should we be worried? About whatever attacked her? If it's still nearby?" Perhaps she should have him call for the guardian, to keep an eye out while they attended his injured friend.

By the way, I don't mind if you power-play. :)

Her response was uncertain, which was perfect. Sheogorath shook his head and said, "Just... If you clean the wound, I'll look for something to fix this!" He continued the path towards where Relmyna was and soon she came into view. The girl asked him another question and he was beginning to grow impatient, but managed to keep his cool. Violence would do him no good for although she didn't look large or impressive he knew that he was definitely neither of those, so unless another would come and aide him it would do him no good.

"Best stay on our guards," Sheogorath called out to the girl after her question just as they reached Relmyna's steadily breathing body. She remained on the ground, her body rising and falling in rhythm but her maimed face showing little recognition as Sheogorath and Wildfire came into view, her eyes vacant. The poison-laced wound looked terrible, like only immediate help could save her now (though Sheogorath, of course, knew better). "Hurry, I'll be back shortly," he told the girl as he gestured at the open wound. Sheogorath stayed to inspect for a moment as though making sure it was the only wound and then he turned away from Relmyna, though halting not far away to see if she was actualy falling for it. He hoped the poison in the wound would do its job as soon as she would start cleaning it and if it did, she'd start feeling dizzy and get stomach pains soon, just like poor Relmyna.

When they came upon the figure prostrate on the ground, Wildfire felt her stomach drop. She was a slip of a wolf with pallid fur drenched by the rain so that it clung to every sharp angle of her thin body. She was in bad shape and the fresh red gash on her shoulder immediately drew the Feisripa's eye. She winced sympathetically as she watched the rain striking against the tender, torn flesh. Instinctively, she moved closer, shielding the fallen she-wolf as best as she could with her own body.

She glanced upward, blinking raindrops from her lashes, as the two-toned wolf disembarked to find some herbs. Wildfire's attention then returned to the fallen woman. She hadn't reacted to her presence, and when the red she-wolf peered into her face, her gaze was not returned. "Can you hear me?" she whispered, but no response came. Maybe she's in shock? Wildfire wondered to herself. She then shook her head lightly and moved her smudged muzzle toward the lesion. "I'm going to clean your wound," she said, even though she didn't think her patient was listening.

Although she had proven immune to a black widow's bite not so long ago, Wildfire fell prey to the toxins almost immediately. Her tongue stilled when she began to feel dizzy. She tried to sit up straighter and swooned, nearly toppling over the prone shape before her. Quite out of nowhere, she vomited forcefully, directly onto the other wolf's forelegs. She felt terrible about that for a split second before she found herself tipping forward. She wasn't able to stop it as she slumped atop that pale, wet skeleton.

She had no idea what was happening but Wildfire couldn't remember ever feeling so frightened. She fought against the worsening disequilibrium, struggling to right herself, but her strength had sapped out of her. Boneless, she remained unceremoniously sprawled as the rain pelted against her. No sound escaped her, though in her head, she urgently begged for the black and white wolf to return—utterly oblivious to his nefarious role in her current affliction—although soon she became too disoriented to form coherent thoughts at all.

He turned round and pretended to search the ground, nose low and eyes directed at the ground. He heard her speak but could not decipher the wounds, but it was clear from everything about her that she was falling for the ploy. There was a feeling of power about him as he turned back towards her, a wicked smile upon his face as he looked back and saw what he had done, watching as she collapsed on top of Relmyna.

Sheogorath stepped back towards them, dropping his act immediately. "Well, well," he murmured, likely too quiet to hear over the roaring rains, watching the pair of them as they lay there. His nose wrinkled at the smell of the vomit. "I'll come back for you later." Cold words were directed at Relmyna and Sheogorath then turned towards the familiar female he had tricked, a smile upon his face that betrayed the madness that housed inside. He wanted to see it, on her face; to see the hope fade away as she saw that smile and knew that she was fucked.

Soon she was barely there at all, conscious but so discombobulated that she didn't do much more than blink and twitch. By the time the two-toned wolf returned, she couldn't even move her head. Her chestnut eyes did slowly lift to acknowledge him, yet they were dull and uncomprehending. Her face remained slack, expressionless, even as he smiled wickedly down at her.

Her body gave a feeble twitch, as if Wildfire was merely trapped in there and crying out for escape. Yet even inside her head, there was nothing but the quiet susurrus of the rain.

She was out of it, he could see, noticing she was awake but not much more than that. He could easily grab on and although the journey back to Blackfeather Woods was a tough and long one, for Sheogorath himself was not strong nor big, he eventually returned to the borders of the Woods, where the pouring rain became more muted until they eventually reached Wolfskull cave, where he put her in the cave.

"What is your name," he demanded of her, though the question was only in order to see how out of it she was. He wanted to fetch back Relmyna first, wanting not to risk that she die in the rain, sick and out of it in the wilds, but first he needed to know if she was still drugged up enough, and he needed to tell her what to do if any of his pack mates got to her first.

She remained oblivious as she was dragged rather unceremoniously away from the creek, the wet grass facilitating the movement. She didn't come around when they crossed the borders, the scent markers enchanced by the rainfall, which had started to slow. When she slumped in the deep well of the cave, her eyes remained open, staring vaguely at the nearer wall.

When her captor demanded her name, Wildfire made no reply other than a quiet sigh.

"Hm," he murmured, content enough that she would stay. "Don't move. If anyone finds you, tell them to wait for Sheogorath." After that warning Sheogorath took off from the cave and he didn't return until many hours later when he had gathered Relmyna and brought her somewhere safe. She was just waking up now and he had made sure she was dry, clean, hydrated and fed before he took off back to his captive. "Thank you, princess," he murmured in rare gesture of affection and he nosed Relmyna's cheek before returning to Wolfskull cave.

Once back at Wolfskull, Sheogorath slithered back into the cave on soft footfalls to see what state his captive was in now and if a conversation was now possible.

She came around gradually, awareness blooming like a slow sunrise. It must have been a cloudy day in this personal metaphor, because even when Wildfire roused fully, everything still felt dark and foggy. She opened her eyes wider and took in her surroundings, peering at the rock walls on every side and furrowing her brow in confusion. Where was she? How had she gotten here?

Am I back in Hougeda? she wondered, though dismissed the thought out of hand. Nothing about this place looked or smelled familiar. She made to push into a sit, overcoming a great sense of weakness in her limbs, when a shadow fell across her. Wildfire froze instinctively, chestnut eyes zeroing in on the mouth of the cave.

A familiar figure strode into the dim interior, though it took Wildfire a full minute to process how she knew him. "What happened?" she asked, licking dry lips. "Was I attacked by the—?" She vaguely remembered assisting his fallen friend, though everything went hazy after that.

When he came round the corner Sheogorath noticed that she was awake again. For a moment he considered that maybe a game of pretend was in order. Adjusting his exterior he looked at the fiery-hued girl, wide-eyed as he said, "Can you stand again? There's little time. We — they..." He looked over his shoulder. "There's a maze out here — I've scouted ahead while you were out. They think we won't make it out of there alive, but we have to try." Sheogorath knew the maze like the back of his hand, for he had grown up here and had lived many years in Blackfeather Woods. She was not the first that had been kept here.

"I can support you," he offered as he approached, offering a shoulder for her if she wasn't able to walk well yet.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he spouted out several hurried sentences that made absolutely no sense to Wildfire. She blinked and tried to steady herself with a few deep breaths, though her instincts were starting to go haywire as she gathered her wits and became more aware of the dire nature of this situation.

When the wolf stepped toward her, she flinched away from him, finally sensing something amiss with him specifically. "What're you talking about?" she whispered. "What's going on?" She squinted at him, the last of the muddiness ebbing away. Her head still ached and her limbs shook with weakness, but at least she could think.

And as she looked at him, it shook her like a thunderclap. "You're—I—" She remembered beating him bloody not long after Goober's attack. He had goaded her into doing it and it hadn't made sense, just like their current predicament made no sense either. Wildfire swallowed, suddenly intuiting that it was he she should fear above all else.

Even though she didn't fall for it so far, he wasn't going to give up so easily. She flinched away and he said, "Shh, shh, not so loud! They'll hear. Look, I don't have time to explain. Please just listen!" Of course, she had listened before and it hadn't worked out so well for her, but fuck not trying. Sheogorath widened his eyes and stared at her with his mismatched eyes alight and shimmering, silently begging her to believe him with every drop of emotion he had and every bit of acting he could muster. He felt that if he kept this up long enough she might start to believe it.

"We have to go!" He stood on shaking legs as he looked at her with his pleading face. "I know shit is fucked up but we don't have time to discuss it now. You just have to trust me. Please!" He took a step backward towards the exit of the cave and looked round the corner before hastily looking back to the girl, continuing to look at her with a frightened and pleading expression.

She couldn't hear anything he said next above the sudden ringing in her ears. She stared at him, watching his mouth move as he quite clearly pleaded with her. But through his ruse was fairly convincing, Wildfire couldn't stop thinking about that day when she'd beaten him bloody on the mountaintop. She couldn't explain why this flashback served as a dire warning; it just did. She was in terrible danger and she knew it with every fiber in her body.

"No," she answered, "I don't trust you. I don't know you! Who are you?" Wildfire demanded in a quavering voice. There was a beat in which her stomach seemed to fold in on itself before she demanded, "What have you done to me?" and then began screaming, "Arlo! Arlo!"

She didn't trust him; there was a glimmer of doubt before she eventually decided that she didn't trust him. For a moment he considered dropping the act, but then he decided he would try. He had nothing to lose, anyway.

She demanded to know who he was and refused to trust him until she knew. Then she continued to call for someone named 'Arlo'. How touching. "Fine, you can stay here and wait for your Arlo, but I'm going to find my way out!" he said and he turned away, making to leave, with or without her. He'd let her stew for a few hours; just enough so she'd start thinking that he might've been honest after all. Just enough to smash the last glimmers of hope from her, after which the process of smashing the next piece of her, body or mind, could begin.

She could barely raise her voice (thank Junior for that), though the rock walls at least amplified it. No answer came, but the stranger apparently gave up on her and turned to go. Wildfire's mouth clapped shut as she watched him leave. If he actually departed, then perhaps she could make her own escape. She had no idea where she was but she was an experienced ranger; just as soon as she could see the sky, she could orient herself, then hopefully locate Arlo and run home.

Sheogorath left and went round the corner of the cave, where he waited just outside of the cave. He reasoned he should at least stay here in case she'd try to leave; the Woods were mazey enough that he didn't think she'd escape so easily, but it'd be a waste of effort to take the risk now. He sat down and waited outside of the cave for a good few hours — if she were to come out earlier than that, he'd be ready to react.

He disappeared and Wildfire didn't know what to make of that, or what it meant. Maybe he was telling the truth after all and her instincts were totally awry? She didn't dwell on it. She waited a few moments, then dashed to the entrance. It would be wisest to take a pause and assess her surroundings, but she burst out of the cave like a crazed bat, intent on making a hasty getaway.

You're welcome to PP her. :)

He wasn't sure what he expected more; for her to stay put and dwell upon the misery of her situation, or for her to try and make a run for it. But he was ready for whatever, waiting at the entrance to the cave, by the side of it, out of sight. He heard her get up and get into motion and his muscles tensed, waiting for the right moment...

... To leap forward, just as she ran by, and crash into her. His weight was not much, perhaps, but it was her motion that made the biggest impact. Teeth snapped forward as he jumped, sharply aimed at her scruff so that he could grab a hold of her and press her face into the dirt to show her where she belonged.

Her limbs felt heavier than usual as Wildfire sped toward the trees, her equilibrium still a little shot. Ignoring these setbacks, she opened her mouth to shout, "Arlo! Arl—!" Her voice cut off in a strangled yelp of surprise when something struck her side, pummeling her into the earth. Before she could even process what had happened, there was a sharp sting and then pressure at her scruff. She cried out again and began to struggle even as her face was forced into the dirt. She twisted and bucked, even as her attacker's scent swamped her nose.

Her instincts hadn't misled her. It was him.

A rush of adrenaline surged through his body as he felt their bodies connect and managed to grab her scruff. When she hit the ground he nearly sent himself flying too, but managed to hold onto her, likely causing a sharp tug on her scruff when they hit the ground. He pushed her face into the dirt and a growl rumbled in his throat. This was all a game to him, but he still felt displeased that she hadn't fallen for his charade.

He started dragging her back into the cave while he said, voice muffled through fur and words harder to make out but the maniacal tone clear as day, "You have been very naughty!"

It was no contest. Her captor possessed the advantage in both size and strength, not to mention that he hadn't suffered from a recent knock to the head (or whatever had happened to her). No matter how wildly Wildfire struggled, she couldn't budge him. He pressed and pressed, forcing her face into the dirt. Whether or not he meant it intentionally, he smothered her, so that by the time he began to drag her, the she-wolf was on the verge of passing out.

And when he began to haul her back toward the cave like a fresh kill, his maniacal words tipped her over the edge. She clung during those last few seconds, sure she would die, but her grip on consciousness slipped and she went tumbling into darkness.