Bramblepoint they should deliver all my blessings in small brown paper handbags near the porch

outcome/date vague. @Praimfaya maybe?

a rare meal filled caiaphas’ glut — and for a brief moment, the spidery crone seemed content. marmot was sparse, but she had lucked upon one some days dead, crushed by a recent spate of collapsed trees.

she had long resigned herself to the notion the gods had made a mockery of her journey — the most recent quake had made travel near the ranges difficult, and so caiaphas stuck strictly to open plains and woodland for now. presently, she skirted around the bend of the tree line — peering in, but not daring to step under the quivering eaves of bramblepoint.

bramplepoint is not terribly far from roangeda and though there is the potential looming threat of the pack across the no-man's-land and lake rodney to focus a portion of her concerns on there is still yet the potentially larger threat of lack of large food sources. though their seeming erasure from the wilds does not strictly surprise praimfaya she had hoped — vainly, she can see now — that their fleeing hadn't been a forewarning to what was to come. still, her youth makes her foolishly hopeful. perhaps there are stragglers. surely there are some that had to have been trapped in the wilds. or perhaps, she thinks with a cynical twist of her lips, it is just the wolves that play the fools. for all their superiority as a species it occurs that perhaps their food is smarter.

still, where would they go if not here? the wilds is their home and this famine would not last forever. could not. partially lost to her thoughts and partially keeping a keen ear open for any sounds that might give indication that she is not alone, praimfaya's attention is fully drawn to the sound of footfalls as she draws nearer.

the worlida's pace turns cautious as she aims to make quick work of the distance, noting the figure of another. she feels disappointment that its another wolf — at least she thinks the older woman is a wolf ( mochi can't remember if pri's ever met a coywolf before? ) — but she sweeps that crush beneath the proverbial rug and lets out a chuff to announce her presence.

The herds had moved on and it'd been several days since he happened across any small game. While Roangeda's turf had not suffered as many of the other territories did, prey was thinning rapidly as Winter continued to creep closer.

It was a need to hunt that drove him from the fen, and he scoured the nearby lands for any sign of what could be a substantial meal for he and his packmates. It did not surprise him to pick up on Praimfaya's fresh scent (there was no rooting that kid to one place for long) as he did so and he chose to follow, figuring hunger might've brought her out prowling as well.

When he found her, the girl was not alone. The mere sight of the black-headed coywolf, unmistakably the one responsible for Drageda's downfall, was enough to raise the coarse guard hairs to stand tall along his dorsal. "You are far from your home," the sterling yearling rumbled as he drew closer, lingering protectively close to the pale Worlida. It bothered him to find her here, so far from the coast where she'd worked tirelessly to claim it all for herself. Perhaps the wolves of Rusalka had finally saw their leader's true colours and cast her out, a sad old crone destined to die alone.

He hoped so. Oh, how he hoped.

throughout her travels in this dry lot, caiaphas had been accompanied by a ghost-pelted wolf. yet the creature to approach her was not the silvery argent caiaphas was accustomed to seeing lingering in her peripherals — this one was much younger, with fewer scars.

her gaze swept over praimfaya in muted interest, half expecting yet another wave of hostility. there was no exchange to base the yearling’s intentions upon, and so caiaphas remained neutrally posed, ready for whatever.

except, perhaps, the arrival of a dragedan. caiaphas felt her gaze harden as dacio arrived, addressing her physical presence in a manner far from pleasant. just taking care of business. the siren rejoined almost sweetly, wondering if dacio knew of vercingetorix’s demise. she had always assumed vercingetorix had gone back to drageda’s thinned outpost the hour he had turned tail upon her — perhaps this was all that remained of his covert group. i could say the same for you. who is your friend? the wolf was younger than her enemy — drageda had disbanded before she recalled any puppies — she wondered, perhaps, if this was vercingetorix’s pale daughter..

she supposed at any moment, this might turn ugly. her stance remained unthreatening, yet coiled — ready should dacio strike first.

dacio's presence does not surprise praimfaya. it is not uncommon for him, aleks or ingram — sometimes two or all three, even — to linger near her. whether seen or unseen they are always near. she draws strength from their presences. his reaction to the woman, however, is curious. praimfaya's frostbound silver gaze flickers from the woman to dacio and then back again as he greets the stranger with a rumble to his statement. it is obvious the two know one another and praimfaya studies her seda's posture from the corner of her eye, her attention shifting back to the stranger in full as she responds almost sweetly.

and then the question about her is thrown into the mix. there's a slightly imperious rise to praimfaya's chin as she considers the woman and dacio's bristled guard hairs. who is she? praimfaya asks dacio, deciding that it is better to exchange words with him within the privacy of their own shared tongue. there is, she considers, a chance that the woman might understand but given how most wolves react to hearing trig, praimfaya uses it with the confidence that it isn't understood.

though the stranger's question does not go unnoted, praimfaya does not answer it right now — besides that the words the stranger uses suggest that it was meant for dacio more-so than her.

He took note of the sharpness of Caiaphas' toxic yellow gaze, and stared right back. She seemed to recognise him at once, which surprised the sterling warrior; he'd been much younger when last their paths had crossed. Dacio watched her for any suggestion that she may advance toward them, waited like a coiled spring. He doubted she would, considering her frail state and lack of support at her back, but he couldn't deny the quiet keenness he held for her to try.

"She is Rusalka's leader," Dacio iformed his young ward, though his mossy eyes did not drift from the enemy's own. It occurred to him then that he didn't know her name - he'd known her only as "Blackhead" - but he supposed it didn't matter. The silver yearling offered no more to Praimfaya, for she knew enough of Dacio's bitter hatred of the scoundrels who'd spurred the beginning of Drageda's end.

He tilted his chin upward, feeling the rage course his veins with each powerful thrum of his frantic heart, though refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing how her presence affected him. "Business," he snorted a laugh, finally allowing his sharp stare to sweep her tired and haggard old frame. "Seems your "business" has kept you away for some time. I fear you may not survive the journey back." A flash of fangs then, a fleeting warning, "or maybe there is nothing to go back to."

He remembered the taste of her daughter's blood on his lips, the feel of her writhe desperately beneath his grasp. Raleska had been lucky to have her friends rally to her aid on that day. Dacio wondered if she'd survived the attack or if infection had ravaged her to an untimely end. He rather enjoyed that thought, just so Caiaphas could feel the weight of such a loss.

caiaphas did not hide the the disappointment that engulfed her gilded stare — first to see the yearling ignore her question, and secondly, to see her defer to the male. the language they spoke was not alien to caiaphas — recognition flitted across her countenance, mingling with suppressed excitement. if this little she-wolf spoke trig, she was very likely the wolf caiaphas sought.

dacio spoke and it was all the siren could do to stifle the instinctive roll of her eyes. it seemed everyone knew caiaphas’ business save her — caiaphas was above being rankled so easily by the dragedan. her gaze flickered from praimfaya to him, as if he were truly disinteresting — and in a way he was, for the siren was more interested in the identity of his companion. if she was vercingetorix’s.... well...

time would tell, wouldn’t it?

what would you know of rusalka? caiaphas countered with a smile edging in. you’re here, not there. her gaze flickered back to praimfaya, eyes coming to sharp focus — noting the dark smudges under her eyes. she saw little resemblance to vercingetorix so far. it’s rusalka, not drageda. unlike your kind, we’ll always have something to come back to. now — who are you, girl?

rusalka's leader ...and suddenly dacio's reaction to the woman makes sense. praimfaya studies rusalka's leader again with a quick, sweeping assessment of her frostbound silver gaze. she didn't particularly look special, praimfaya thought. this is the woman that defeated drageda? this woman's pack was the catalyst for blodreina's choice that eventually deemed her as natrona among her people. she was why her mother had to die with the knowledge that she would never again be accepted by her people ...aside from her and verx, of course. it would be easy, praimfaya knows, to channel all her pain, grief and anger over her mother's death to this woman, though she had nothing to do with it. this woman is an enemy of roankru ( also her grandmother by adoption and the bearer of the name praimfaya wields around so proudly, kek ) and for praimfaya that is, surprisingly, enough.

she has already pledged her support to dacio and opalia's plight to bring down rusalka once and for all ...when roangeda was strong enough for it. praimfaya feels herself bristle at the use of the word 'girl', finding it condescending even if it wasn't meant that way — in moments like this she proves she is blodreina's daughter. my name is praimfaya, not girl. she corrects, gaze cool as it rests upon the stranger. i am the worlida of roangeda.

He parted his jaws, preparing to inform the black-headed sea that the girl was not her business, when Praimfaya took it upon herself to share what he considered to be valuable information. Dacio had ignored that particular question for a reason; he hated the thought of Caiaphas gaining knowledge that she could so easily use against them. Making a mental note to remind his young ward that it was best to keep themselves to themselves, at least for the time being, he closed his mouth to grit his teeth together behind sheathed lips.

Fucking shut up, he willed of Praimfaya, a charcoal ear canting in her direction as she carried on to include the title of their growing pack. A low rumble bloomed in his chest and at his rear, his tail gave an irritated twitch. "You don't need to know who she is," Dacio blurted, eager to have his voice heard before the aspiring Wanheda thought to go on to deliver their location to Caiaphas as well. "Why is it so important to you?"

praimfaya. caiaphas didn't know, if this was the daughter's name -- it certainly meant even less to her than 'roangeda' did -- save, this sounded like another iteration of drageda. they were like termites, weren't they? down one, and two more mounds appeared..

dacio seemed to resent his companion for her divulging of names, but caiaphas wouldn't have gained much from 'praimfaya'.. not yet, anyway. understanding well his urge to cut in before anything incriminating was said, caiaphas ignored him completely. her gaze was focused on praimfaya, level and unflinching. "you vercingetorix's girl?"

to say that praimfaya understood dacio's reaction to her giving out her name and speaking about roangeda would be a lie. it does not occur to her to keep it a secret — for she certainly hadn't thus far while trying to recruit: telling successful recruits and non-successful recruits alike. still, she takes in account the upset she interprets his outburst as and deigns not to be more careful about what information she gives. but, it seems, the woman's interest isn't even in roangeda at all. instead, she appears to outright ignore dacio and focuse upon praimfaya solely in an insistent manner that has begun to finally unnerve the worlida.

the question about her being verx's daughter comes as a surprise and arouses suspicion, displaying upon her face with a furrow of her brows. no. she replies truthfully. why did this woman want to know? more importantly, how did she even know about isi? was isi in danger? something as cold as ice settles in praimfaya's stomach. part of her wants to inquire, to wring out of the woman what information she could, afear for isi's welfare. part of her wants to end this conversation right here and now. but she is to be wanheda and isi is one of her people.

i don't like this. she admits to dacio about the conversation and situation in whole, no longer daring to lift her gaze from rusalka's leader to even glimpse at him.

She ignored him, just as he'd ignored her. A taste of his own medicine, but one he didnt appreciate in the slightest. The peppered yearling felt a muscle of his jaw tighten and he rumbled his frustration as she brought forth the name of Drageda's former Cheka. his mind swam with all the horror that Caiaphas had brought to his home all those months ago.

A beat of thunder like a war drum, freezing rain. Electricity in the air. A glimpse of their enemies moving between the trees, glowing eyes with each flash of lightning.

He remembered the fear, the fury, the pain, the feeling of being cornered. Snarls and clacking teeth all around him, the metallic tang of blood on the air. Dacio had been born to fight, but no level of training could've prepared him for that day.

Praimfaya's voice broke his train of thought and Dacio arched his proud tail, jaws parted in a fierce snarl. "I think it's time for you to get lost," he growled, moving a bold step closer and veering to block the aspiring Wanheda from Blackhead's view.

her muzzle lifted, ready -- reading into praimfaya's tone and language, dacio's too. if there was a lie, one of them would betray it. either praimfaya would not appear contrite, or dacio would involuntarily betray praimfaya's guise with a tell-tale flicker of surprise.

far as she could tell, the girl was truthful -- caiaphas was a wolf experienced with reading those before her, and caught no edge of deceit in the would-be roangedan's mien. "good." the siren responded, an air of solemnity collecting around her. "but you know him." here she seemed almost regretful -- but not for reasons either of them would discern.

dacio came forward, a rippling snark pressed from his teeth. caiaphas agreed — it had been time for her to go for some time — but first.. aren’t you curious how i know him, his name? why i’m out here, talking to you? she readied herself in case dacio did not permit any further conversation. you know he became rusalkan? my packmate. my son saw promise in him — if you can’t beat them, join them, right? an airy laugh sounded from her thin muzzle, bitter and hard as dried clay. he came with me here — and here caiaphas drew together the truth and the twists with delightful ease, not a sign of beguile across her muzzle. since so much of what she had spoken was nothing but the truth, slipping in that single lie came as easily as blinking to the siren. "he is dead. not of my own hand, but an enemy of rusalka. we camped here to avenge a crime, and he was killed by an easthollow wolf.” caiaphas’ gaze flickered now between the two of them, measuring their reactions. i can lead you to him, if you would like.

of course there was the possibility they’d react negatively to such news — in which case, caiaphas was ready to make a swift exit.

dacio moves closer, aiming to block her from the rusalkan leader's view. praimfaya allows this, though there is another imperious lift of her chin gone unseen by the bulk of dacio looming in front of her; but it seems the stranger has a last card to play as she speaks again. no, the aspiring commander replies curtly but it was a half truth. despite her biting response she is curious — curious as to why this woman was so fixated upon her, curious as to what this woman might seek isi for. according to her, verx had joined them. them. the enemies of drakru ...of roankru. as this was never mentioned by either verx or aurë ( at least in praimfaya's presence ) she does not believe it.

what reason does she have to? verx and his children were safe in kaistleoki, this praimfaya has seen with her own eyes. just weeks ago, following blodreina's untimely end she and ingram had ventured there at her request. she has no reason not to believe that verx and his children were not still there. there'd been a bit about aurë and moonspear but ...even so. how were those things connected to what this woman was telling her now? as far as praimfaya could see: there was no connection. liar. praimfaya snarls at the woman in trig from around dacio. how this woman knew of verx and his children was troublesome, even the claim that verx was dead! — and despite herself the rusalkan's words brings with them a small nag of doubt in herself — but praimfaya shakes it off. this woman is rusalkan. why should praimfaya believe anything she says?

we will go no where with you. praimfaya tells her fiercely, with finality. if anything, she wants to put as much distance as she can between them and this woman. come. lets go. praimfaya beckons of dacio. she has no desire to stay here and listen to what she believes are lies.

He hovered protectively before his young ward, the girl he was sworn to defend with his life if he had to, grey-green eyes sharp on Caiaphas' own as he dared her to make attempt at bringing harm to her. It was hard to believe that this frail old crone had been the creature who'd brought Vercingetorix to his knees. Her condition had certainly deteriorated since Dacio's time of roaming Drageda turf alongside his kru, for despite her petite frame he recalled so vividly how intimidated he once felt by her.

Not any more. There was nothing left of her to fear.

To hear her speak the former Cheka's name only fuelled his fire, for Dacio's relationship with Vercingetorix had deteriorated considerably in the days before the shedding of his name. He was nothing but a traitor to him, a wolf who'd shared his intention to him with the hope of some sort of approval. In knowing him, he was probably responsible for his own undoing. If Verx was truly dead, the ashen yearling was far from moved.

He was not convinced that his former comrade had run with Rusalka, but he could believe that he was dead. Still, Dacio had no real interest in confirming Blackhead's bold claim, and his impatient huff communicated such. The aspiring Wanheda voices this herself, then beckons him to follow in their native tongue. "Never turn your back on this one," he informed her darkly, fully believing that Caiaphas would not hesitate to attack if they did. "You can fuck off now, Blackhead. I will not tell you again," he barked in the coywolf's direction, raising a heavy paw to enforce his threat with a bold step toward her.

in her long and storied life, she had been called many things worse than liar. her audience was unreceiving — eliciting a coarse shrug of her thin shoulders.

he’s by the lake. don’t know what you dragedans do for your dead. we cast ours to sea but, he betrayed us in the end too. taking note of dacio’s additional step, caiaphas flashed him the barest of smiles. see you around, i’m sure.

she wasn’t planning to stick around for fond goodbyes, and made to stalk past the duo. as far as she was concerned there was no love lost between her and these dragedan stragglers — yet she took mental note of praimfaya’s scent and location should she end up being exactly who caiaphas was looking for.

never turn your back on this one, dacio warns her and praimfaya takes his word of warning, thinking this is probably a good thing to apply to anyone. it is not long after that praimfaya watches her klikalida take a step closer to the woman and warn her for a last time. the woman offers verx's supposed location to them and leaves. when the sound of her departing footfalls vanishes praimfaya looks briefly to dacio before she leads the way back to roangeda, glad to be home when they finally reach it's borders.

though she doesn't believe that verx is dead she worries for isi, wondering why the woman was so insistent on finding verx's daughter — and what of dragomir?, praimfaya wonders! — wondering if a trip to kaistleoki is in order to assuage that small nag of doubt and the bigger twist of concern in her chest. she needs to see for herself that verx is alive and that her friends — her bloodkru are safe.

From the crone came the announcement of a location where they might locate Vercingetorix' corpse, knowledge that Dacio felt she would deliver for her own gain. This was all too suspect for him to be comfortable; had Drageda's former Cheka truly gone to run with Rusalka for a time? He found it hard to believe, so cast that troubled thought aside for a later time.

Blackhead moved to slink by them, Dacio shifting his weight to act as a shield for Praimfaya. If the sea witch wished to get to her as her prior interest suggested, she'd face his fangs first. He wasn't a boy anymore, not like the one who'd had his first taste of war on the day Rusalka attempted to raid the cliffs. No, Dacio was every bit the weapon that Drageda had bred him to be.

His fierce pastel gaze followed Caiaphas' every step until she is far enough away that the tension in his muscles slacken. Fangs sheathed, the ashen Klikalida exchanged a silent glance with his young ward before he moved to accompany her home to the fen.