Silver Creek crimes against children are so easy to get away with.

If Artaax ever felt things such as guilt or doubt or worry, it might've been said that he had begun to feel all three of those things. As it was, the Feisripa (as he still considered himself) was completely certain he felt none of those things. It was merely a cramping of the stomach from a not-so-fresh coyote cache he had raided a few days back. Or.. a week ago. Okay it was like three weeks ago. He was definitely feeling like shit about how long he'd been gone and worried he'd be called a traitor when he finally made it home again, but let's keep that between us, and especially don't tell him.

But regardless, Artaax knew he ought to be returning to Drageda soon. He had been gone far too long for comfort and knew they were likely to be missing him terribly. He had made a vow to himself though not to return without Bat, and so he wouldn't. They would forgive him when he returned with their wayward goufa in tow.

As you can see, he hasn't read up on the most recent IC drama. He'll get there, though.

Artaax wove quietly through the trees, trying to keep his steps light even as they crunched upon frosted detris. He moved parallel with the creek that gave the territory its name (not that he knew that), knowing that water sources brought wildlife of all kinds together. He still had yet to catch any sign of his younger sister, but he had long ago learned to simply make the most logical choices for where to look and go with it until he got somewhere. Besides, there was a good chance of at least coming across some prey to hunt, and he clearly still needed to wash down the foul meal he'd eaten to make his stomach churn so.

IT'S NOT GUILT, OKAY.

She didn't want to go home just yet. There was even part of Bat that flirted with the idea of never returning. But she couldn't just disappear on @Tegan. Sure, she could run out on her entire family, but not her crush. When she caught herself on that thought, Bat had the decency to flush at her former self. Kiwi's accusations began to ring in her ears again. Her sister wasn't wrong. And now she lived at the plateau, along with their overbearing mother... goodness, Bat was going to drag her feet as long as possible.

From King Elk Forest, she headed west, curious about the progress of Rosings. Instead of finding Lilah, Harrison or any of their ilk, however, Bat found herself stumbling into another ghost from her past. And "ghost" did well to describe her older brother as he slunk through the trees, pale and nearly silent. She didn't notice him at all until she ran smack dab into him.

Though his entire purpose for being so far and so long from home was to find his wayward sister, he was entirely unprepared for her to suddenly appear before him. The boy shifted his gaze just in time to see her coming out of the trees. He braced himself before the collision and blinked stupidly down at her as she tumbled backwards, ricocheting off of his sturdy frame. For a moment, he was not convinced by his senses that this truly was Bat. It was just so unlikely. But after a few seconds, his brain forced him to accept it because it was perfectly logical that he would come across her - he was just that damn good.

Questions rumbled through his mind as he looked her over. Where had she been? Why had she gone? What was she doing so far from home? Was she hurt? Was she safe? Who had she been staying with? What pack was this that she smelled like now? The scent was somehow familiar, though he couldn't immediately place it. It took him back, though, to cold, to youth, to anxiety, to a place where Bat had never existed, which made it even stranger to him that she would smell this way. But as much as he puzzled over it, the answer escaped him, and it bothered him to not know so very many things.

All that being said, the words that rumbled from his throat were actually nothing like what went through his head. "Come on then," he said shortly without emotion. The feisripa then turned unceremoniously to start off towards home, simply assuming Bat would just follow him.

He was so solid that he didn't budge an inch, whereas Bat did not fare so well: she bounced backward on impact, lost her footing and went down like a sack of potatoes. She stayed down too, blinking owlishly up at Artaax's familiar features. For a solid five seconds, her brain blanked entirely. After that, a series of inarticulate phrases drifted through her head, all to the tune of, What the fuck?

When Artaax issued a brusque command and began to walk away, Bat stared stupidly after him, still motionless on the ground.

It took Artaax about thirty paces before he finally stopped to peer back over his shoulder to figure out why he didn't hear Bat following. She was lying on the group still, staring at him with wide eyes. He frowned deeply at her and turned to face her once more.

"Let's go," he said, more sternly this time. What was she even doing? What about this was hard to understand? He had found her, so that meant it was time to take her home. This had only ever been a two step venture. Step 1) Find the lost kid. Step 2) Take her back to Drageda. No where in there was there a step 1.5 where she lied there acting like a moron, wasting his time.

As Artaax walked away, Bat slowly climbed to her feet and gave herself a shake. By the next time she glanced in his direction, he'd stopped. "Let's go," he said and Bat's heart thumped a little harder in her chest. Where did he want her to go?

"Uh," she answered, "where?" Was he taking her back to the plateau? What was he even doing here? Had Wildfire asked him to come? Nobody had even mentioned Artaax. What the fuck was going on here?

Mother of god, these kids were freaking useless. He wondered briefly if the other three were any better than this one. The only one who had ever shown any promise was Kiwi, and her name was just plain stupid in his opinion. "Bat" wasn't much better, plus she apparently didn't even have any of the redeeming qualities her littermate possessed. She had clearly not inherited as much of heda's superior blood as he and Blixen had.

"Where do you think?" he asked, annoyance clearly written in his tone, "Drageda." How was that even a question? He paused, wondering for the first time if she didn't want to be part of Drageda, and that was why she had left in the first place. The notion was too absurd to consider for long though, so he gestured impatiently with his muzzle for her to follow.

Was he serious? Bat stared at Artaax for a long beat. He wasn't the type to joke—did the dude even have a sense of humor?—so she knew she should take him at face value. If not for their mother's and sister's recent appearance at the plateau, this might've made a lot more sense. But they were there... it slowly dawned on her that when Wildfire and company had departed Drageda, they hadn't known they'd find her, therefore Artaax had no way of knowing either.

Inhaling sharply, Bat shook her head. "I live with the Redhawks now, Artaax." As she informed him of this, she briefly (and a little wildly) entertained the notion of going back to Drageda with him. She could escape Wildfire and Kiwi, maybe even see nomi again one day. The thought made her heart pound, not in an entirely good way. She was still all mixed up after suppressing her memories, her feelings, for so long.

And, much as she was loath to admit it, even to herself, Bat couldn't leave Tegan. She was too attached to him now. He was the single most important person in her life. If she ever did decide to leave the plateau—whether to return to Drageda or simply go on the world's most epic road trip—Bat would never, ever make the mistake of leaving without telling him. She'd done that once, to others, and she wouldn't be repeating that terrible mistake, not now that she knew how it felt.

"I'm loyal to them." Well, to one of them, anyway. "And 'sides, mom and Kiwi are there now too. Oh, and Sequoia." Bat hoped that knowing she was with family would put Artaax at ease.

The memories clicked into place at Bat's words. Redhawks. That was the scent. It was the scent of being in a foreign place, of missing his mother and worrying fiercely for the safety of her and all of his loved ones. Of wanting to prove himself and the bitter disappointment of being denied it. It was the scent of being out of place and lonely and homesick. But more than that, it was not the scent of home and of family. And yet, his young sister had just told him that she lived with them now.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Artaax kept his expression empty and his tongue mute as he processed her words and the thoughts she prompted with them. But as practiced as he was at holding his emotions in, nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

His brows lifted in surprise as ice slid into the pit of his stomach. What was she talking about, Kiwi and Mom with the Redhawks, to whom she was now loyal? Who the fuck was Sequoia? He blinked rapidly, not understanding a single ridiculous thing coming out of his sister's mouth, but quickly finding anger rising to overpower the sudden hurt that was attempting to bloom and make itself known.

Artaax swallowed hard, forcing the emotion back to where it could hide again beneath his stoic facade. "What do you mean Mom is there?" he asked, stepping nearer to her, his voice hushed dangerously, "What do you mean you're... loyal.. to them? We are Drakru. There is no loyalty but to Drageda." He fixed his dual-toned eyes squarely upon hers expectantly.

Although her elder brother did well to mask his emotions—she could honestly use a few pointers on that—his voice was a dangerous hiss as he stepped closer. Feeling oddly menaced by his tone and the words that slipped from his tongue, Bat's large ears fell back. She fell back, slowly maintaining the same distance between them.

It was pretty clear that Artaax didn't know about the defection. Bat herself didn't know a whole lot about it, since she was too busy avoiding her mother and sister (apart from that one sob fest in Wildfire's arms). She couldn't—she wouldn't—attempt to speak for them. If Artaax had questions, he could go straight to the source.

But he demanded answers from Bat about her own fealty. She had never been Drakru, never found her purpose until after busting out of the proverbial birdcage. But she sensed it wouldn't do any good to say so. Instead, she said, "I left because nomi left. I tried to catch up to her. But she left me—us, all of us, Drageda—behind. So I found someone—someones else." She flushed not only because that had come out sounding sort of dumb but because Bat had the distinct feeling she'd likely just tripped a wire.

Artaax stared as his sister attempted to explain. She had left because heda had left? On some level, it did make sense to him. On some level, he remembered the hurt he had felt watching his family come and go to Trigeda, to Seageda, to search for Wildfire, to fight in wars both near and far, all while he stayed behind, always. He knew that pain very well, but there was a far greater issue here on the very notion that had always kept him in check, even when he felt his most miserable at being left behind and alone.

Heda had told him to stay. Dragedakru did not disobey their heda.

"She told you to stay," Artaax replied indignantly, "She told us to stay, to protect one another until she returned. She didn't tell you to follow." He shook his head, truly finding it difficult now to follow the rest of her logic. "The rest of us remained behind. What did you need someone else for? Your argument is idiotic," he finished, anger simmering underneath his words. Artaax was not a particularly emotional wolf. He did not operate based on the whims of his feelings. But this was a simple matter of logic - if she was angry that Thuringwethil had left them all behind, how did it make any sense for Bat to do the same?

Bat didn't remember nomi's parting words—what wasn't lost to the fuzziness of childhood was victim to the great repression—but it was probably true. She didn't know that she could explain herself to someone else. She'd been a child at the time, coping with an overbearing mother and an urgent need to stay with the commander, to not be left behind. That's all she could remember and even those once poignant emotions were blunted and dulled by time.

Bat hated conflict, so Artaax's insult normally wouldn't have gotten a rise out of her. But she was still sore from Kiwi's accusations, plus she was edging in on her teenage hormones and couldn't help the subsequent outburst (probably the first of its kind): "I don't want anything to do with Drageda! Or anyone from there! Just leave me the fuck alone!!!"

Bat lashed out angrily at his condescension. Artaax felt his own anger rising, but not due to any offense at what she spat at him, but out of sheer frustration that was she being so freaking difficult. In his mind, there was no question about what path she ought to follow. There were consequences for choosing the road she seemed so determined to remain upon, and they were dire. Nothing the Redhawks had to offer could possibly be worth what she risked. Even without those consequenneces, like seriously, who the fuck would choose the Redhawks over Drageda?

"Stop this now," he commanded, his deep, soft voice rising as the occasion warranted, "You don't even know what you're saying. You're just a stupid kid throwing a temper tantrum. You need to come home with me. Now. Otherwise I can't promise what will happen to you if you cross paths with Drageda ever again. We do not forgive natrona," Artaax glared at her, but his gaze softened momentarily as he added in a quieter, more hesitant and weirdly uncertain-of-itself voice, "Those we don't forgive don't live, Rorqual."

Part of it was sheer bravado, bordering a little on desperation. Looking through the masks and the facades, it could've been said that he spoke out of his desperate desire to keep his family together and safe. He might not actually admit to liking any of his younger siblings, but it hurt him somewhere deep inside to be so wholly rejected by them. But in keeping your eyes on the surface, this was a simple matter of pride. Artaax had said he would bring Bat home, and he was god damn going to.

I'll give ya five dollars if you can guess on what level Artaax actually viewed himself.

The instant the words left her mouth, Bat felt a bolt of utter regret. She immediately wanted to apologize but Artaax spoke before she could. The apology got stuck in her throat, swallowed down bitterly when he proceeded to throw more insults at her. What hurt worst of all—and honestly scared her—was her brother's blatant death threat. She was terrified mostly for herself but, despite herself, her thoughts cast out wider, to include Wildfire, Kiwi and Sequoia. Were they on the hit list too?

The last thing on earth she should've done was yell at him again. But as fat, hot tears squeezed out of her eyes, Bat found her mouth opening to scream, "FUCK OFF, ARTAAX!" She then kicked a nearby pile of leaves and dirt in the direction of his face—whether to distract or to spite him, not even Bat knew. She spun on a heel and fled, breath hitching and tears streaming backward along the edges of her cheeks as she ran.

Artaax had foolishly expected better from his sister. He had expected her to immediately see the error of her ways. To beg forgiveness, to come to him with humility and better sense and agree to return home with him and put all of this behind them. He would return her safely to Drageda, and then he would set his mind to getting Kiwi and Wildfire home (like seriously, he has no idea who Sequoia is). There had to be some reason they were with the Redhawks now that wasn't because they were traitors. They were just visiting and Bat had simply misunderstood. That was all it was. He would explain it to Drageda when he got back with Bat, and then he would bring them back home too. They would all go home. They would all be safe. He would protect every last damn one of them, no matter how angry they got at him.

But, for what was likely the very first time ever, Artaax was wrong. Bat screamed at him, rage and rejection dripping heavily from each word. He turned his head to shield from the debris that she flung at his face, giving his coat a hard shake before turning back to see her darting off into the woods. His anger flared again and he made to run after her. He could overcome her easily, drag her kicking and screaming (and apparently swearing) back to the Cliffs. But, patience fell like an ominous blanket across his shoulders as he regained his composure. He watched her disappear with an empty expression upon his face. He was still and thoughtful for a few minutes after she had departed, looking for all the world like a statue upon the earth's surface. And then, silently, the pale lion lifted his paws and set off after her just as the snow began to fall lightly around him.

He'd have no trouble finding her this time. This time, the trail was fresh.