Starglow Basin la venganza se derrumba,

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for all verapaz members! mainly @soto !

saya lay crumpled in the burrow, barely breathing, her body a tangled mess of anger and pain. she could feel the sting in her thighs, the deep, angry cuts throbbing with every beat of her heart. she tried to push herself up, forcing her paws to brace beneath her, but it was useless. each attempt left her weaker, trembling, collapsing back into the dirt.

her mind spun, dizzy and dazed, a boiling rage trapped behind her clenched teeth. it was an empty fury—she had nothing left to throw at the one who had taken him, nothing but a helpless, festering hatred. still, it burned through her veins, refusing to quiet.

finally, she dragged herself out of the burrow, peeling her battered body from the hollow as she staggered upright, wobbling on shaking legs. and then, head thrown back, she let loose a raw, piercing cry, the sound tearing from her throat like a broken weapon.

come to me, she'd wail.

soto, osiel— she spat, the words spilling from her mouth as a desperate attempt to any in verapaz who might dare come close.

i merged mine into urs hope that is ok! <3

soto watches the thin shadow cut across their territory from lookout point — but by the time he’s on flat ground, the shadow and her charge have disappeared into the withering desert air. 

it’s an improbable feat, waltzing into their tight knit camp and lifting a prisoner housed in the center of their rendezvous.

clearly, mistakes have been made in assuming his prison-guard’s vigilance.

a high, keening noise sounds from below.

soto answers it in fury personified as his howl reverberates through the shale. all must take arms, and seek out the invader that against all logic had escaped.

but this is not logic — it is witchcraft. and soto knows the bitch behind it.

he turns to qiao, viperous as he orders her seized. he’ll deal with her later.

then he turns to saya, lips curling back in a toothsome snarl. from the looks of things she looks as if a bull got a hold of her; but there’s no time for sympathy.

the child is gone. que ha pasado?

there better be a pretty fucking good explanation.

saya’s body trembles as she struggles to keep her composure, blood dripping from her lips as her gaze flickers up to soto, barely meeting his eyes. her voice, though weak, is sharp with frustration.

firstla maldita albina… ella me atacó primero, saya mutters, voice raspy, ni puta idea de cómo entró.

Her breath is shallow, but she forces herself to stand taller, looking at soto with a mix of pain and reluctant submission.

me disculpo, soto… perdóname, perdóname, she whimpered. seethed, with blood splintering through her teeth, though the only thing that bubbled beneath her skin was violence. saya hadn't needed to use her tooth and claw before, but she knew how.

Just a cameo unless referenced further <3

A cry sounded out, awakening Leto from her rest. She had raised to her feet, taking her time as she made her way towards the source of the sound.

Soto speaks to a woman, one who she knows has joined them only recently. She does not know the tongue they speak, but she knows anger when she hears it.

Silently she stands by - the same doe-eyed, calm expression she keeps so well plastered on her face. She wishes to see what will happen to the battered woman.

Not yet has Leto been provided a task after her return. She wonders if this will be an example of what happens when one fails.

Stalking past Leto’s ghostly form and into the cave, Osiel rises tall and sable before them.

He is still, eyes gutting where they shift– first to the sniveling mess of blood that is the golden woman upon the floor. Second, to his leopard standing over.

Heavy shadows disembody Saya’s head. It floats in the ether, pooling apologies slightly out of sync, the torn body somewhere out of focus. A perversion, to vandalize such beauty. And yet there is no pity to addle his cold features.

The boy was a key. Not a chew-toy.

The boy had been their advantage to Muat-riya. Now they had this: a wounded operative and progressing hatred from their closest neighbors.

Before their seeds were even planted.

The blood eyes cut to Soto. This is his incompetence. His rage is an internal storm brewing violently. Pure emotion. But he isn’t a flunky or an errand boy. He is second-in-command who wants to run a fraternity, taking wars where he can find them.

The ocelote knows. This is for Juárez and Niño. The Segundo already had a sense of the imminent death that awaited if they didn’t play smart.

Sharp teeth glinted from his jaws. He weighs Saya and her wounds, “no vuelvas a llamarme.”

Turning for Soto, the pointed ears flare outwards, darkness unsheathed in the gleam of stoic eyes. “Limpia tu desorden. O lo haré.”

A once-over, then the patrón took his leave.

In the midst of the basin came a piercing cry. Fueled by fire, spreading further out to anyone within earshot.

Hiro was caught in its path. The fury within it was more than enough to draw him out of a light rest. Their head shot up, stunned by the suddenness of the call. In those waking moments they thought to cower from it, leave it to someone more befitting to answer. But despite toying with the idea, they rose from the earth and headed for the sound. He would not sit idle, for knowledge’s sake if anything.

Hiro could taste something metallic in the air. Ocho had wafted it closer as he left the scene. The fury at the back of their neck rose as they closed in.

Three remained; An inky man, a golden woman who bled before him, and their observer. That large lilac stare sparked familiarity, and Hiro found themselves staring at her rather than their wounded comrade.