Blackbeak Bluff if it's a big enough stone, you can kill way more than two birds

Sirio spends the rest of the evening nursing his wounds. The physical ones are easily superficial. A few cups and craps from teeth and a nick across his muzzle. The most noticeable is the limp he suffers when he favors his back right leg and the excessively bruised ego he carries around. He hides away in the tangle for most of the night, waiting until a chance to move further south and figure out where to go from here. He’d been warned by the wolf killer not to return and his plans for finding his mother are temporarily put on hold but they are far from over.

The next morning he is not nearly as sore but his wounds have begun to scab except for the bigger one that still oozes beneath his shoulder. He isn’t sure who or what gave it to him during the scuffle but it isn’t life threatening and he does little care for them other than keeping them clean. As the boy approaches the cliffs where the snow drops off, a heavy fog lures below, hiding the roaring sea crashing against the tall cliffs.

she was not a fan of the bluffs, but as of late had felt claustrophobic by the packs' swell in members. the grotto never seemed to be empty: wolves came and went, conversations carried down the tunnel -- her normally lonely vigil had been replaced by perpetual and unwanted company.

overwrought and overwhelmed, the siren queen sought some semblance of isolation on the harsh and fog-ridden bluffs.

she was not very far along before a scent besides the sea carried to her. at that moment the rolling fog seemed to part enough that a form was visible. caiaphas had never been an affable wolf -- his presence already annoyed her -- with a huff that her search for isolation had been foiled she picked her way along the bluffs quietly, keeping an eye on his form as she worked her way down the rough-hewn ledges.

He does not notice the new presence right away, watching through the fog. He cannot see the waves crash against the surface of the bluffs but the sound is enough to paint the picture, but he cannot determine how far the drop is. If he fell over, how long would it take before he hit the water? Or the shore? Or would he and somewhere else along the way, a cliff jutting out near the bottom?

One ear twitches back, turning slightly to see a haunting form approach from his right. Dark eyes narrow but her unique coloring deems her unfamiliar. At least the sibling duo isn’t on his heels. Sirio remains silent and place, wondering how close she’ll come.

the she-wolf's descent along the battered ledge was short-lived; a coarse drop into stumbling sea forced her to turn back and she pulled herself over the sea-bitten stone with frustration. the swell of her belly, however slight, forbade any extreme exertion -- admitting defeat, the she-wolf clambered back to level ground. she was now back where she had first seen sirio's form: in the rolling fog she could only make out the barest of details: cream, male -- she set her baleful gaze upon him and ruefully called: "what do you want?"

She disappears briefly and he looks back out, and it isn’t until movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention again. She’s reappeared and getting closer and, rather grumpily, asking what he wants. Brows knit together and he scoffs, shrugging one shoulder. “You forget already you came up to me?” he snorts, licking his lips, and shifting his form so that he faces her head-on, instead of exposing himself to danger.

for a moment the siren queen wondered how close he was to the ledge -- but he turned round to face her, and she set her expression in a grim line of disappointment. that was no fun.

his rejoinder was not met warmly -- she simply stared back through the cold fog, a mule-length ear pulled back across her thin skull.

"yeah, but you're still here. must want something." she called back over the roiling waves, studying his form as the heavy fog soldiered past them.

Sirio snorts in response though his dark eyes do not trail away. She’s creepy looking enough, and that’s coming from him, but he doesn’t necessarily feel like he’s in danger. In good company, perhaps.

“What, are you my fairy god mother now?” he says with a quirk of his brow and twitch of his ear. And if she is? What is it that he wants? A sneer forms a snake of a smile. “Do I get three wishes or something?”

caiaphas' own expression grew flinty as he spoke, suggesting she was some manner of a benign deity. a scoff formed against her pursed lips and she exhaled -- if anything, she was some manner of a lesser demon, a spirit kept by a malign star -- hardly a jolly or benign genie come to make someone's life better.

"no." she answered coldly, not even bothering to counter with some sort of sly quip. "but i'll give you three seconds to tell me what you're doing here before you get my teeth." she had always been a rash and impetuous she-wolf -- even now in her old age, she felt a bit of irrationality heat her. she leveled him an austere scowl, wondering if he would challenge -- or fold.

she could take either.

Naturally, the stranger isn’t very fun and doesn’t appease him with three wishes. Eyes roll in his head and his smile doesn’t quite fade. He thinks of Artaax shoving him to the ground and Blixen at his heels, though he never feared for his life. Artaax may be a killer, but to kill someone once a pack mate? He didn’t have it in him. Neither did Blixen. Here, however, he finds enjoyment in toeing along her annoyance. It’s unprompted and toward, given they’re standing on neutral ground far enough away from another pack that he’s definitely not trespassing, and he would prefer to feel her teeth than not.

Finding that he doesn’t have much of a response, Sirio stands there, watching the stranger over the next three seconds.

caiaphas found herself fairly often in situations her mouth shouldn't have gotten her in -- this one being one such scenario. she rolled her shoulders coolly, as if utterly unphased by his lack of concern (in truth, she was internally blistering with righteous fury over his impudence -- how DARE!! ).

despite her present condition, she threw good sense to the wind as she was want to do, and took several lumbering steps towards him - each foot placed more heavily than the last. to show how much good faith she put in her words she lunged at him, dangerous and silent.

it was a test, more than anything -- to see how far she could push him, if he would react at all -- or perhaps worst of all, if he would rise to the challenge.

The strange woman does not disappoint and he opens his mouth in a foolhardy grin, eager to feel the weight of the smaller wolf again him. He may mimic his father in size but he often doesn’t know how to use it, never paying attention to any of the training offered to him. Hunger drives him, though, and he braces himself for impact. When they clash, he stumbles back despite his best efforts not to and he does not snap his teeth at her. Instead, with enough force, he would stumble back and fall to the ground without retaliation.

caiaphas expected a full arsenal to meet her; instead, he simply fell like a deflated jellyfish or a sack of rocks and she was repelled back by the blow. confused but no less irritable she sprung back as catlike as her fat belly could allow, her mule-length ears pulled back in an expression of suspicion. wtf doe?

"what's wrong with you?" she spat, her tail lashing in an agitated manner against her thin hips. what kind of wolf just let a stranger advance and attack them without fighting back? either he was soft, or he was tricking her -- she instinctively set her jaw and scowled after him awaiting any sort of answer.

He expects more, tensing his muscles more as impact is made and he hits the ground hard, but nothing else happens. Teeth do not tear flesh or continues to force him into the ground. She bounces back, confused, and he huffs a breath of laughter at her expression, snorting once to her question.

“You sound like my father,” he retorts, licking his lips. He sits sternal, a sphinx. Dio had never outright asked the question but it wouldn’t be the first time he heard it. From his half-siblings, when they weren’t paying attention that he was near. He could feel it in their gaze yesterday when they’d shoved him around. “And you’re the one attacking innocent strangers in unclaimed territory, so what’s wrong with you?”

the siren queen stepped back, her thin hocks sliding backwards as she increased the distance between them. her muzzle was contorted in a displeased expression -- and her yellow gaze fixated on him in the most unkind of manners.

to be accused of having something wrong with her, well, it didn't sit well with her -- her hackles rifled in affront and a band of upright hair appeared down her spine. "nothing's wrong with me. just don't like insouciant, adolescent boys. same as the rest of the world." she spat, her tail lashing angrily like a cat's.

She steps away from him but he doesn’t let his eyes fall away, watching as she tries to sort through the enigma. When she doesn’t seem she’s going to attack a second time, he slowly begins to stand. He shakes out snow and dirt from his coat, removing evidence from the attack. “I guess some people just don’t fit in the world, then.” Woe, teenage angst; everybody hates me! “I can’t even go home,” he glowers off to the side, looking up the northern coast. He’d tried yesterday, only to be rejected by his very own family. They wouldn’t let him see his mother.

she scowled as the male rose and dusted himself off, detritus still clinging to his cream fur. she didn't exactly look sympathetic as he spoke -- why was it her fault his home pack didn't like him? her tail twitched and her expression remained cold, her thin lips pursed and hawkish eyes flinty.

when he looked to the northern cliffs she felt herself stiffen, and rounded her shoulders carefully. she thought it most suspicious, but rather than admit she was even remotely interested, she decided to sleuth.

"sounds like you need a new home." she said sardonically, though it was far from an invitation.

“Sounds like it,” he says, sarcastic tone and all. He’d attempted once, briefly, during his trip north, but his reappearance in the teekon proves just how well that went. Her words don’t necessarily sound like an invitation but he wonders if there is more to it. Bringing his eyes back to the woman, he cants his head just a little. “Don’t have one of those lyin’ around, do you?” he tells her with a stupid grin, unable to take any predicament seriously.

the male returned her sarcasm with a joke his own; she watched the smile drip off of his muzzle with the most unimpressed of expressions. neatly, her long ears tucked back and she answered in a dismissive tone: "no." she said, and then seemed to reconsider -- the fierce yellow of her eyes tinted with mischief.

"not unless you have something to offer us." her gaze flickered back up to the cliffs, following the path sirio's eyes had roved.

The way she gives the condition causes a brow to lift and glance back over her shoulder toward the cliffs. He licks his lips and stares off and the connection comes together, but not completely. “Hm,” he grunts with a wrinkle of his nose. She’s given him a stack of cards he doesn’t exactly know what to do with, so he returns his gaze back to her. “Where is us?” he asks, then, wondering if it was worth his while after all.

where is us?

caiaphas rolled her shoulders unevenly, her expression suffused with some emotion that was neither tangible nor decipherable. ever cryptic, she simply flicked her tail and supplied a smooth "if you want to know, you'll find out." another wholly unsatisfying answer, but the rogue she-wolf didn't care -- she had never been in the business of pleasing strangers.

in a gesture that was surprisingly sprighty given her condition, the sylph turned and made her leave.