Hideaway Strath to one in paradise

enough, she'd rasped to @Augur, tiring of their wait on the prairie. they'd hunted enough, sparred enough. they knew she lie in the hinterlands and so, to the hinterlands they would go.

reckless? yes.

but who else but her to take the fiery plunge?

a feverish pace over several days brings them to the first pack they encounter, and it is here where she recognizes the scent that had tainted her borders;

that had taken away her warrior,

(and her mother!)

those who were weakest would stay on the fringes with @Ashlar and his budding apprentice @Reki. her son, @Relic, too, to guard the healers.

they'd camp out on the foothills, ready for the injured and the—

no.

she won't say it. not aloud, not in silent fears. they will fight and return whole; she not only hopes it but commands it.

the moon rises, but it's cloaked in clouds and falling snow.

Avicus perches along the scent-layered edge of the strath and peers into the darkness below, then looks back to her warriors, whether or not their potential allies had sent help or not.

Sapphique had refused, and her brother had left.

she's long since learned that the only one she can truly rely on is herself.

but they don't have to fight. this pack can release the white witch to them, give her up for all her transgressions and save themselves.

no blood but hers need be shed tonight.

the red terror lifts her muzzle and howls into the freezing air, breath a burst of white fog, then clears her throat of phlegm and bellows:

NYRA!

@Prophet @Masquerade @Redd @New Snow @Lilia @Bobcat

set for this evening. Augur had tracked her as far as the hinterlands, and they seek justice here. I rolled an 11/20 for fighting damage to Avicus which means moderate injuries (deep lacerations, bruises, ripped fur) - feel free to do the same for your toon!

augur was a tight and writhing whitesnake of controlled fury.

the killer's scent was here, mingled with others. the sickness that had plagued redtail rise was nothing to him now. he spat thick mucus into the snow as they came to a halt, ringing along the entrance to the strath and entering at once.

he snarled loudly to punctuate her ferocious roaring, saliva dripping in feral splashes from his massive jaws. the giant ulfhedinn moved to red woman's side and flicked his eye over their wolves, assembling for a battle.

and then he waited, snorting like a bison into the frigid air reeking of the killer and her people.

also rolled a 11/20 XD. Anyone willing to take on Lilia, she's primed to take on some damage as well.

When she'd been in the pinnacle of her sickness, Lilia had resented the entire quest. Resented the woman who'd attacked their packmate, and all that she'd brought upon them. This restless journey that had kept them away from home for far too long. This battle wasn't glorious- it was a fruitless chase that left them straggling with sickness and hungering for food and sleep.

But as she recovered, she found some sort of routine in the savage ways of living forever on the hunt. Spare time was spent jousting with her packmates, flashing teeth and shouldering over the kills they made. Every opportunity to harden herself against attack made her sharper, faster. There was no rest for the wicked, and even less when the wicked kept moving. 

They had lingered just long enough to recuperate from the respiratory flu, but it left her with a rattle in her vocal chords. All the snarling and growling during her sickness had stripped her of her smoothe vocal tone. The rasp, however, suited her. Her snarl was a death rattle- she'd hiss it into the ears of her first victim. 

A name is shouted into the Strath. On the borders, Lilia's jaws chatter, her breath fluttering over her spittle-foamed lips. Hawkish eyes glazed with bloodlust, she issued a hyena-like cackle before she fell silent, waiting for a reprise.

Sovereign heard the bellow of a furious female.
For Nyra...she assumed that was her mother at one point in the past.
With a tired sigh, the child would walk with an obvious I'm over it air, exhausted.
She saw the red woman and her flock who had attacked her only a month or so ago, spanned down in the valley of the outsides of the Strath

Not that she didn't deserve it then, she supposed.

Sovereign would stand on a steep, rocky overlook that was immensely difficult (if not impossible) to reach from where Avicus and her small army was and would call out with a deadpan tone that did not match the voice of her mother in the least "Nyra's not here. She was killed by a bear in the mountains to the south not too long ago. I found very little of her left. So go away." 
She looked directly at Avicus with tired and almost dead-looking eyes, tail low and body neutral despite the exhaust that held her, pale fur shaggy and weight clearly still that of someone not yet fully grown into themselves physically.
"Look, I'm tired. I've had a lot happen in the past few days, and I'm over it. Go home." She added, tone unchanging.

skippable unless things pop off

Redd waited.  She stared at the territory before them, tense and coiled as she anticipated the warriors that would emerge to defend it.  Pack wouldn’t betray pack.  There would be blood here.

She was eager.

Wealda was powerful in her call, and the one who came dismissive.  Redd growled, a sound low in her chest, but she would do nothing until her mother drove them onward.  It was not hers to take.

Masquerade lingered in the background somewhere behind Redd, ever stealthy and watchful. But as soon as a white she-wolf appeared on an overhang above, their focus narrowed. They recognized her immediately. She said something to the group but all Masque could hear was their own blood pounding in their ears. Had the Redtails noticed her up there?

It’s her, Masque said in their deep voice, quietly at first and then louder, so all their comrades would be sure to hear, the one who killed our pack mate. There!

Time and sickness had hardened the young boy. The slaughter of one of their own burned deep in his memory. His blood boiled when his minds eye saw flashes of the giant white female. She had a bounty on her head, with the whole of the Rise out for her hide.

Wealda, Ulfhedinn and  Berserkr. They and the family they had formed were all that mattered. Eternally loyal, unmovable in his rigidity, Relic was the perfect, savage foot solider. His chest was tight, his breathing labored and raspy. It soured his mood, but also served as a welcome challenge. He pushed through it, to grow and come out stronger.

He hung back at the far borders, positioned with Ashlar and Reki. Even there from his post, he bellowed his war cry. His voice gravely and twisted, cracking through the silence like a violent snap of a lightning bolt. There would be no escape for the white one. If she somehow got past Wealda and her war party, he would be waiting at the outskirts to intercept her.

He paced, then he stood tall and rigid.

His body have very well have snapped under the tension it held. Thunder roiled and pooled in his chest, a rigid punctuation to Avicus' summons.

Then a girl!

The audacity!

He flared to life with a raise of hackles and a peeling of his lips. Ugly and unbecoming. Feral and unchained.

New Snow lingered nearest to her mate. What she appeared as, then, was a contrast to all that she was. The phlegmatic rattle that came from her throat was as unattractive and fearsome a sound as any snarl, though perhaps a bit more grotesque. She had yet to reach the peak of her own sickness, however—there were only tells of its approach.

When the stranger approached, her muzzle wrinkled and her teeth were revealed. Blood Spot spoke in the distance, but she could not understand. The scent they sought... it might be here. She sniffled, nose blind from her sickness. Another growl emitted from her vexation; but at least it was not for naught.

New Snow waited.

she is injured and when masq declares the ivory hellhound as the one that had killed their packmate: the puzzle pieces fell into place. masq had seen more of the hellhound than he: but he confirmed with a low snarl.

he lingers near his parents, eager for battle.

eager for blood.

despite that he was young and full of reckless righteousness and believed immortality of the young.

there's only one thought in her mind when the girl appears and begins to speak:

i don't believe you

they've hidden Nyra away somewhere, no doubt for her heinous crimes, her rap sheet unraveling to cover the Wilds—

then Masquerade shouts out, and identifies the true culprit and heart of the issue here.

her. a girl made in her mother's image.

for Nyra must be her mother, no?

she's made up her mind even before Masque spoke, and her daughter's cry is what pushes her forward. with her tail flagging up like a war-banner, she urges her troops to pour into the territory;

to sack and plunder and pillage,

to piss and raid and spread that infernal disease (perhaps it can come in handy here)

the wolves of Redtail Rise set upon the strath, with Avicus barking just one command above all:

find her! bring her to me!

@Khasni @Adlartok @Fenrir @Maiken for visibility

forgot to mention - I am nixing the post order here, but just one post per character until I post again with Avicus!

If i need to put this somewhere in another thread let me know <3 He can be killed during or at least wounded enough to die. Maiken will fight and then escape.

Artok heard the howls and then with righteous fury he descended upon the wolves that came to them. He would fight with tooth and claw and nail. He went for leader, anger burning in his eyes.

He was old and he was broken, but perhaps he could buy Sovereign enough time to leave, to get away. If he could save her, well then all his life, all teh terrible things he had done and said and those he had left. Perhaps this would bring him peace, and forgiveness. Maybe.

He met the leader with teeth, and claws and bristling fur.

Their cry cued the war party, which surged forward. Masquerade expected Avicus or another one of the fighters to scale the rocks to reach the murderer on her overlook. Instead, they poured into the bealach. And when Masque glanced upward again, the ledge appeared empty.

There was no time to puzzle over this development. Avicus’s command pulled them forward into the strath to do the Wealda’s bidding. As always, Masque looked around for Redd, Relic too. They also kept an eye out for the pack’s youngest and most vulnerable members. It was hard to keep track of anyone though; everyone and everything moved so fast.

augur needed no further encouragement.

hiking a leg, he sent a mighty stream of musky yellow cascading across a tree and stone face.

he added deep furrows to the ground with massive paws, adding the unmistakable scent of redtail.

and then he went to hunt.

and as he hunted, he invaded dens, throwing furs and herbs and whatever else he might find, marking liberally, raiding caches and laying the contents open for the ever-hungry young wolves.

and he looked for the pack that had protected the killer.

it came in the form of an old man. augur snarled and lunged as the elder attacked red woman.

Maiken grabbed what she could of her herbs and stashed them away. Then she would meet the plunderer's with her tiny teeth and claws. Angry and vicious in her fury. Tear tracks still in her fur from teh death of their leader.

Lilia lashed her tail eagerly as a wolf appeared- one who fit their description, and who looked terribly resigned to her fate. Lilia had caught glimpses of the wolf as she fled- and this one looked no different to her- perhaps a bit younger than she ha expected, though. With a grim tone, she announced that Nyra was dead. 

Lilia knew Nyra was who they were hunting, but this one, she looked familiar too-

-and with a voice not often raised, Masquerade confirmed Lilia's suspicions. "Blood for blood," She whispered for herself, twice, before she raised her head and growled. "Blood for blood!" She roared, before she jetted off into the strath. She did not hesitate to foul-up their borders, but dashed into the wilderness in search of the white wolf. 

It would be one small and dark that she would find first- a fit target for her fury. She smelled of plants and herbs, so Lilia deduced she might be a healer- and for that reason, she singled out Maiken as her target and snarled as she lunged toward her, willing to give chase if the young woman fled, or fight should she hold her ground.

With her man New Snow moves. But it is the cry of Red Woman that New Snow follows.

What her man raided, New Snow would eat or deliver to her son to be eaten. Small things; they could not gorge themselves before the fight. But the way had been long, and these morsels would provide more energy for the return trip home as well.

When an aged man was seen, New Snow again moved with Mountain Boulder. Toward his front shoulder does she surge, hoping her body weight coupled with her mans would be enough to throw him off course, to come for her instead. New Snow was incensed; her teeth sought purchase on whatever she could find.

Feel free to have him injury NS, just nothing severe enough to kill! Cool with scarring/ear ripping (just not off entirely), so no major maims at this point please.

pretty fine with anything that isn't loss of limb/eyes please. scars, ear injury, etc. are fine!

Hell was sent upon the lands.

He moved after Lilia, he too found the small woman that his protegee had decided to face. An herbal, crying woman.

He had no use for a heart here.

Prophet would be there with Lilia and Maiken, prepared to chase the woman far from here or make sure she paid a debt of blood. It mattered not if the debt was not hers to pay.

Choices had been made.

just one more post here from me to summarize her involvement

Redd did not make noise as the others did when they attacked.  She slipped around, despoiling nothing, but seeking any who sought to fight or flee.  Her fangs found a few.  Their fangs found her.

She would continue, a shadow amongst the chaos, engaging where she could help and driving off those who would flee.  She had no reason to go beyond the order to attack, and found no pleasure in destroying the lands on which they’d lived.  The caches they’d kept.

Her home was not here.  Whoever came next could keep them.

OOC: Last from me.


He lurked, waiting on the outskirts. Impatiently, like a chained, rabid animal, he edged inwards ever so slightly. He kept Ashlar and Reki well within hearing range. Just in case they got caught in the fray or snagged by the teeth of a panicked wolf fleeing for their lives.

Tail waving high, alive with aggression, he surged along the boundaries. His teeth snapped, threatening growls cutting through the air. Anyone who managed to break through and escape the violent raid within, he would see to. Some did, trying to race past. Relic made sure to clip them so they were marked.

Last from me. Artok won't be in again, since he has his death thread.

She was ganged up on. One sharp bite to her chest, and another to her side. Scours down her muzzle. She fought while she could, but finally sheer numbers and size began to push her away, and she quickly ran from the battle. She would flash her teeth and claws and leave the pack lands behind. She'd come back later to get what herbs she could, for now, she just wanted to leave with her life intact.

Last from me, pursuing in Artok thread!

The battle was a bloody one. And New Snow was certainly worse for wear from it. When Old Warrior quit the scene, New Snow was not immediate in her pursuit. She caught her breath, she looked to her mate and assessed. New Snow licked his face in an effort to staunch bleeding she saw, though both of them bred freely. The battle had warmed her, and she did not yet feel the pains of her own injuries.

Then she set off after Old Warrior, knowing that the job must be finished. She followed the blood-spattered snow, her head low, quiet and resolute.

the old man lunges toward her, but before he can strike, Augur and New Snow and others are upon him, and she only has the patience to deal him superficial blows before she rips away—

away, looking for Nyra—not dead! and the girl. away, looking for her revenge.

she rips through the strath, searching, hungry, eager for revenge.

upon the mountains is where she'll find her truth—and it will be a while longer before she can rally her wolves to her side again, shaken to the core.

last for me!

last for me!

Her target wasn't the one that she'd been instructed to go for, but if she could hobble the pack by wounding their healer, she'd consider it a good day. The actual act of revenge would be best left to Avicus, anyway, and so she lunged after the first wolf she could find with snapping jaws. 

Their collision was savage and brief, snapping jaws puncturing skin and drawing blood, but with every blow the dark woman gave that momentarily pushed Lilia back, she drew away. Lilia lunged and lunged again, but Maiken was not a cornered animal. She was fierce, but she sought wisely to retreat, especially with Prophet hounding her too. 

Once she was on the run, Lilia shouted and whooped maniacally, chattering her jaws together to shepherd the wolf further away from her home and separate her from the ones she lived with and loved. She would be outpaced, and would eventually come to a stop, huffing and puffing, but reveling in the victory.

Wrapping as well!

The Redtails split up and spread out through the strath, pursuing their enemies or the destruction of their home. Masquerade considered trailing after one of the younger wolves but decided they could look after themselves. They peeled off to some far corner, tracking the scents of opponents.

But there was not much in way of opposition, despite their invasion. Masque could hear the sounds of a struggle and paused in their step, head swinging upward and over their shoulder, ears blooming. They listened. It sounded to them as though Avicus’s war party had come to easy victory.

Suddenly, someone darted past them so frantically, they rammed hard into Masque’s side. They let out a small yip of surprise as the stranger’s legs tangled with theirs, plunging them both to the ground with abrupt force. By the time Masque righted themself, the other wolf had scrambled away, vanishing into some trees.

Masque made an abortive move to track them, only for a thin whine to escape their throat as they looked down at their throbbing forepaw. They blinked. For a while, they stood there, breathing steadily. Then the Toweard turned and loped back toward the hideaway’s passage, deciding they ought to find Ashlar when the Redtails regrouped.