Blackfeather Woods It's not like you're unpredictable

@Wildfire

Nyx, no matter her actions, was a practical woman. While she did not care for others except for herself, Damien and perhaps some of the Brotherhood, she knew how to play into her favors. Treating a prisoner nicely didn't only make them last longer, but there was also a chance they might vouch for you whenever their parties did arrive. At least then she'll have their attackers in her favor and she'd escape the scene unscathed. Besides, the fae, being the mate of the leader of her "great pack", obviously held information about this Drageda.

Given the female's wounds, the first thing she gathered was marigold. While she knew not much about herbs and their internal uses, she had had wounds like everybody else. They were so nicely scarred because she had experimented with herbs and water and cobwebs. All that was left to do was the exact same. She picked them carefully, returned them in a crack at the opening of the tunnels and went to grab some more stuff. A stick, placed neatly with the marigold, and after that a skull filled rather scarcely with water seeing that she spilled so much and a dead squirrel. More the prisoner did not deserve, but it was perhaps more kindness than anyone here had shown her.

She entered the cave, blocking the entrance, holding nothing more than the golden flowers and the stick.

She had woken perhaps an hour after the altercation with the two-toned leader, aching and ravenous, to find a pile of fresh meat in front of her nose and @Relmyna stationed nearby. Wildfire didn't know how she knew the woman's name but she didn't dwell on it. She gobbled the meat, eager to sustain the energy required to make another escape attempt, formulating a plan even as the hunks of rabbit slid down her gullet.

Of course, the poisoned flesh threw off her plan by completely disorienting her and causing Wildfire's consciousness to dull to the point where she didn't even recall her plan. In fact, she was so heavily dosed that she slumped at the other wolf's feet, lying motionless even when a shadow fell across her. The only movement was her dull chestnut eyes, which slowly lifted to see the godforsaken queen had returned—not that Wildfire really recognized her at the moment.

She raised a brow at the stillness of their captured princess, assuming another had weakened her even more. She wouldn't last the winter if everyone just kept on maiming her energy like this; surely they knew? What's the fun in a dead prisoner? The Dark Mistress cleared her throat, placing the herbs and the stick in front of her so she could inspect the items as Nyx took a better look at her wounds. There was the one in her scruff from her escape attempt, that much she knew, but the rest was too bloodied and dark for her to clearly see. This wouldn't do. Would a bath suffice? Surely she could keep the fae under control on their journey from and back the water.

As lively as ever, I see. She mocked in a tone filled with honey. I have not come to harm you, if that is what you think. At least, not if you do not try and run again. Establish trust, get her to talk, leave her in the dust with some excuse. Easy as pie.

The she-wolf spoke, though Wildfire couldn't make any sense of her words. In fact, consciousness slipped away from her entirely, eyes sliding closed and breath becoming shallow as the heavy dose of poison dragged through her bloodstream.

It wasn't a heavy sleep, however, and her limbs began to twitch as a dream took form. She was back in Drageda, standing on the beach beside Thuringwethil and watching their children play in the surf. Wildfire whimpered under her breath. Then the scene shifted and she was stuck in Hougeda, endlessly weaving through the underground caves but unable to find a way out. It grew darker and darker until she was effectively blind and slamming into rock walls.

In her nightmare, she paused to catch her breath, when something reached out in the darkness and touched her coldly.

She felt a wave of passion rush through her innards, stroking her frozen heart, seeing the sprite lie there. She was a fragile thing, much like the little Koume now, though Potema's child did not have the same fate. More and more did her will to free the poor thing grow, knowing it was something she mustn't do. Then Drageda would definitely be on their doorstep within a week. The taste for revenge was one desired by all who had been wronged, she found, and there was no way she'd let her pack suffer because of her stupid passion. It was a form of weakness she just had to live with right now.

Whatever had been put in the fox had not been good stuff and Nyx rushed to her side, leaving the marigold and the stick to lie there, useless for now. She reached out a paw, eyes squinting as she stroke her neck fur to the side. This had been her fault, and for that she would pay with doing to her something no prisoner had received, she presumed. She took the herbs in her mouth and simply began chewing, having no hope that the fae would wake up soon.

Her mouth opened in a scream, but the darkness swallowed it as if she were in some airless void—a black hole. She still felt that icy touch at the nape of her neck, pressing and causing her skin to crawl. In the real world, she mewled in her drugged sleep, twitching feebly.

Then the toxins must have dragged her to the deepest of sleeps because the nightmare vanished into the ether. Wildfire sighed, then fell almost deathly still. The only movement was the slow rise and fall of her flanks as she drew in shallow breaths.

She frowned through it all, ears constantly swiveling about to make sure no one sneaked up on them. Every tremble of a pebble, every drip of water caused a wave of anxiety to rush through her veins. When the marigold had turned to mush in her mouth, she lowered her muzzle and placed it in and around the wound. It was good the sprite was asleep, Nyx being so close had probably not been very comfortable for the prisoner. She sniffed around in the dark, finding her stick, and walked to the wall. Surely the cave must be full of cobwebs, and not only were they a nice decoration, they were also kinda handy. She leaned with one paw against the wall, reaching up her stick and swiveled it around like a maid would.

As expected, it was soon laced with the silky thread of a spider, and she returned to her job. Given that the fae was asleep, she was much bruter with her prodding and poking, trying to get the cobwebs to stick to the wound. Please don't wake, please don't wake.

She began to moan in her sleep. A thread of drool pooled against her lip, then began to drip stickily down the side of her chin. Wildfire still remained motionless (and utterly oblivious to her captor's ministrations), until she quite suddenly flung her head upward.

Her jaws split as if she was going to yawn, but instead she projectile vomited copiously.

Finally, it was done. Nyx sat back, admiring her amateur work, whipping up when it seemed the fox might wake. She leaned, perhaps a little too close, and was showered with some liquid. It was chunky and war but quickly turned icky, smelly and cold. Oh dear night mother - IT GOT IN MY MOUTH! Nyx yelled, shaking the vomit off the best she could. WELL ARE YOU NOT THE MOST AMAZING GIRL EVER, BITCH. She cursed, not daring to lick herself clean. How in the hell was she going to get this off? She couldn't leave her yet.

At least you got it out of your system, you good-for-nothing. This is how she repays me? Really? Thanks a whole lot. She murmured.

Her head sank back to the floor partway through upchucking, causing Wildfire to aspirate some of the vomit. She began to choke and gag, the force of which finally roused her—or perhaps it was a result of the toxins being so forcefully expelled from her body. Although disoriented and supremely groggy, she managed to open her eyes halfway and sit up just enough to cough up the mouthful of puke lodged in her windpipe.

She coughed again, her throat burning from the acid. She then froze at the sound of a voice. "—a whole lot," she heard it rasp. Wildfire lifted her dull, watering eyes and squinted at the she-wolf hovering over her, looking utterly disgusted as she surveyed the filth on her pelt. It took her a few beats to rouse enough to make sense of what she was seeing and to ascertain the situation in full.

Everything was still rather cobwebby in her head, yet Wildfire managed a low, croaky, "You..."

The fae's voice tugged Nyx from her squabble with nothing, white eyeliner arched dangerously low. She still dripped of vomit, and let's just say it wasn't a pleasant experience. Her beautiful pelt of stardust, simply ruined by a sick prisoner than she was trying to fix up. She grumbled at the other. She was not cleaning up her mess, if that is what she was thinking.

Yes, me; the one wolf trying to fix you up. How is your neck now, vomit girl? She spat. She knew deep down nothing of it had been intentional, but it still kinda felt that way.

"You," she repeated a bit inanely, trying to muster a glare. But she didn't have the strength or presence of mind to coax her facial muscles into cooperating. So she just looked blankly at her captor, slowly coming around to a seething mixture of fear and hatred.

"Who are you? Where am I?" With her head clearing and memories resurfacing, Wildfire realized she'd never obtained this crucial information. "You're keeping me here—why?" Although this one had been asked and answered, she still couldn't make sense of any of this. "What do you want?"

Nyx sighed for a long while, trying to think of clever answers to the fae's questions while simultaneously trying to not think of the slobber on her pelt. It was utterly disgusting. Finally, she decided she didn't want the foxy female to know who she was. She didn't want her to know of anything. I am I, you are in a cave, we keep you here because we have nothing else to do. She rattled, already lifting and walking to the entrance. And, quite frankly, I just want a bath. That was the only thing on her mind right now; getting clean again. If you come with me, we can clean out your wounds. She added, looking back at her. At least then she could return to stitching her up a bit.

 

Wildfire felt a sick rage simmering inside her at the woman's responses. She was being kept as a prisoner, beaten occasionally and clearly poisoned somehow (maybe it was the food?), simply because this she-wolf and her pack were bored?

She blinked loudly at the invitation to accompany "I" to wash up. Would she be permitted to leave this prison, then? Perhaps she could escape. She felt weak and woozy, though with every passing second, the fog in her mind was lifting. She felt like she'd fallen down a mountain, but she would at least have to try.

"Okay," Wildfire said. "I need to drink," she added, her mouth still sour. "Will we be going to a stream?"

The stream wasn't far. In fact, it was just a bit away from the prison. Besides, Nyx was a trained warrior, one of the fastest in her family, and the wolf she was to keep an eye on was a; what? A tiny, weakened, beaten and poisoned woman? Truly, she had dealt with much worse. I brought a skull with water when you passed out, though I fear I spilled a little. She informed. They weren't the most practical of bowls, after all. These were the moments where Nyx preferred the winter; snow was easier to carry and store. Besides, the frost could make very nice bowls out of frozen hides.

Yes. She answered, already making her way to the entrance and out of the prison. She turned swiftly then, perhaps to scare her a bit more and shake any unwanted thoughts out of her head. You flee, you die. Simple, brutal - discouraging, if anyone would ask the Apaata. Now, come at my side. She asked(?), waiting.

It seemed too good to be true. "I's" threat certainly put a dampener on things, though the pause it gave her was only momentary. If she fled, she very well might be captured and killed. But what if she didn't flee? She faced a future of torment, torture and possibly death anyway.

When "I" demanded Wildfire to move to her side, the she-wolf did so slowly, exaggerating her weak state so that she didn't appear like a flight risk. "Why are you doing this?" she repeated even as they readied to exit. "What exactly do you plan to do to me?" she clarified her redundant question.

Was it a test? It could very well be, though Nyx didn't know yet how the pack would react if she would set free their plaything. She had the authority to do so, very much so, and she always liked looking good to the weak. But the wrath that might await her if she did scared her to the bone, though she'd never admit it did.

How am I to treat your wounds with all that dirt clinging to your pelt? She answered to the why question. The what was a little more simple. patch you up, get you fed and kiss you goodnight, of course. It was said with a roll of her eyes, even though the first two things would most likely really happen.

"I" misunderstood Wildfire's broader questions, though the red she-wolf didn't bother pointing this out or repeating herself yet again. It occurred to her that no answer would make sense or satisfy her. These wolves, whoever they were, were keeping her as some sort of plaything. They were obviously sociopaths, so trying to reason or bargain with them wasn't going to do any good.

Something else "I" said triggered another response from Wildfire though. "I won't be eating any more food you provide me. I know that's how you must be—poisoning me, or whatever you're doing." Of course, that meant she was choosing the lesser evil. She wouldn't be poisoned, yet she also wouldn't get to eat, and that would sap her strength and make escape all the more unlikely.

They still hadn't left and Wildfire began to fidget restlessly as they stood in the mouth of the cave. It was difficult to resist the urge to run. Instead, she forcefully tore her gaze away from that wide open view and looked directly at "I." "What about a ransom? My mate will find out what's happened to me, eventually, and you'll have a war on your heads. If you reach out first, maybe we could arrange an exchange. Is there anything your pack wants—aside from 'playthings'?"

An angry glare was shot in the sprite's direction. How dare you assume it was me who tried to poison you. Ungrateful shit. As far as Nyx knew, she was the only one trying to be at least the littlest bits of friendly with the bloke. As long as she didn't know who had put her here, it was not her call to set her free. She had explained this enough already though - at least, if she had been paying any attention. "Oh no, the Dark Mistress tried to poison me even though she was treating my wounds and offering me a bath after I puked all over her!" Pfft.

Nyx snickered. The Brotherhood didn't rule the Teekon like that. Oh no, I think we have plenty with just you. She answered with a smile, beginning their slow and short journey to the nearest stream. Besides, a war won is a war in our favor. She muttered, recalling no time they had ever lost.

Wildfire made no reply when "I" spoke angrily to her. She was under the impression this she-wolf ruled this pack (whatever and wherever it was), but it didn't matter whether or not she was directly responsible. She was an accomplice. But the Feisripa wasn't about to argue her case; it wouldn't get her anywhere.

Finally, they emerged into the open air. Wildfire gulped in a deep breath and maintained a slow, steady pace beside "I." She studied her surroundings openly as they walked, though she made no move to escape. Eventually, her chestnut gaze swung back toward her captor, eyes narrowing slightly.

"You won't win if pitted against Drageda," she said in a low, brazen voice.

Mad laughter spilled from her maw for a slight moment before she returned to her cold, silent self. But, there was a glimmer of excitement in her mismatched eyes. Oh, how she liked these games! Bluffing was, perhaps, her most sculpted talent. Seeing that so many had been bent to her desire with this power, even though luck had played a part too, she was confident in the talents of the woods. In the talents of herself.

She turned her crazed gaze to the sprite. Is that a challenge? She replied in a seductive manner. Well then, may we burn your beloved saviors to ashes.

Wildfire made no reply, though she felt a heat sweep through her at the threat. She knew Thuringwethil and the rest of Drageda would avenge her, if they could, but at what cost? She hadn't thought that far ahead. The thought of the commander or—god forbid—one of their children getting hurt while trying to rescue her made her blood turn to ice.

A despairing thought crossed her mind: would it be better if they didn't come for her? Her family would suffer for her loss, yet at least they wouldn't be in any danger. A little cry spilled from Wildfire's lips at the thought. She didn't want her loved ones to risk getting hurt, so escape was the only option—that, or remaining a prisoner here until they surely killed her.

All logic and reason fled. Instincts took over and Wildfire darted suddenly, heart and feet both pounding as she attempted to flee through the grim woods.

Though it came as a bit of a surprise, Nyx had prepared herself for if the sprite would try to flee yet again. It had not been expected, at least not with her, seeing that she had been nothing but "nice" to her. Hell, she was taking her for a bath, something she hadn't had in a long time. Her stronger and larger form darted after the weak thing, catching up rather easily. Though Nyx was on the broader side of the spectrum, she was the most nimble (she found) in her family.

She threw a few snaps at the other's legs, though their height difference did not make that easy. So, instead Nyx leaped, aiming to land on the hind quarters of their prisoner. Her weight, if gravity would prefer one side of the other, could easily break something - but the sooner the fox was disabled the better.

She didn't get far before she felt hot breath against her hind legs. Wildfire cried out and tried to increase her speed, but she just couldn't shake her pursuer. A moment later, she felt fangs graze over the tendon in her left fetlock. Before she could squeeze out another cry, a weight sprang atop her, forcing her entire posterior to the ground. She crumpled beneath "I's" weight, her right hind leg twisting unnaturally beneath her as she slammed to the ground with yet another cry, this one strangled by pain shooting through her leg.

"Get off me!" she spat, writhing out from underneath "I." But she didn't start running again. Wildfire didn't even leap to her feet. Instead, she moaned when she bent to inspect her paw. She couldn't be sure if it was broken or merely sprained, yet it was bent oddly and hurt something awful. When she touched her nose to it, she hissed through her teeth. She knew that if she tried to stand and put weight on it, it would snap—if it hadn't already.

Although despair washed through her and tears swam in her chestnut eyes, they blazed when she looked up at "I." Her fate was more or less sealed now. But she would stop hoping Drageda would come to rescue and avenge her. Instead, she would hope the opposite: that they would never find her and get involved with these murderous sociopaths. Hopefully they'd just think she'd gotten lost or, hell, even abandoned them. Wildfire's lip quivered as tears spilled silently down her dirty cheeks.

Powerplaying a bit with permission - still, if something's off, just say so and I'll change it :p

She hadn't meant to seal the sprite's fate this way. Then again, her warning should have prepared her for such a thing. Her expression was cold, even as she saw her twisted leg. No, she had not meant for it to happen, but at least she would not keep her former statement; running would mean death, but she'd die here now. Nyx had tried to be nice, awfully much so, but perhaps this one did not deserve her kindness. She wondered how her mother's prisoner was fairing - the fox had could've gotten that instead of a damaged leg.

I guess the lesson is now learned. She let out, her tone not even holding sympathy. Rise, I still want your vomit off me before I return you to your... permanent home. Why did this feel like a betrayal anyway? Of course she had wanted to flee. Still, from the very start had she been "kind" to her. Nyx watched her limp silently and led them to the stream.

As soon as at least Nyx was clean did did she lead them back to Wolfskull Cave. Rest. Was her final goodbye as she left the sprite there for whoever wanted to "meet" with her next.