Horizon Ridge virgo is the skeleton of monarch moth

Set for tomorrow morning. I'd like someone from Teaghlaigh please? :) Tag for visibility: @Arturo @Lotte @Olive @Dakarai @Chusi @Kitsch @Lia

She and @Tirgatao had taken refuge in the ridge when night had fallen, finding somewhere to huddle up and keep warm and safe as they rested their tired paws. The cold weather and wind from the sea has been rough since their travel began but it doesn’t hold them back from making their way south. They didn’t have much of a chance to explore the ridge but as morning rolled around, Thuringwethil untangled her legs and stretched, nudging her companion awake so that they can continue on their way.

There is a rumble in her stomach that gives her motivation to search for food before they make too much headway and they split, searching for something they can potentially share. She keeps her eyes peeled and nose alert for anything nearby and her ears are attentive for sounds nearby that may indicate trouble for Tirgatao. In the meantime, she continues her search over the rocky collapse of the ridge.

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Arturo draws in a deep breath. Horizon Ridge is close enough to the sea that his sense of scent is greeted by the familiar tang of sea salt upon the air, but not close enough to make the scent heavy nor overbearing; and it is close enough to Teaghlaigh for Arturo to comfortably leave the pack in Lotte’s paws as he heads back into the Wilds of Teekon with the sole purpose of recruitment. He has brought in Rollo and Lia has found them but they have lost Evelyn. The latter does not particularly surprise the gangster who had not expected her to stay long after her mate turned tail and disappeared in the dead of night without explanation. Arturo finds such behavior annoying. A waste of his and their time. Why pledge yourself to a pack only to turn your back on it? He did not understand because that type of fickle loyalty was not something he had. It mattered not. He will make up for the loss of two healthy adults. He will make up for them because he wants to ensure Teaghlaigh survives: that his and Lotte’s children survive. The possible threat of Blackfeather Woods does not go idly nor easily ignored but Arturo will not forsake his duties for possibility and if Blackfeather Woods comes to his doorstep well …he hopes that he is ready to handle and deal with them if only because he has to be. Dakarai and Olive gave him no choice on that matter.

He is surprised to catch the scent of another: an individual scent mixed heavily with a secondary individual scent but also bearing the scents of many. He does not recognize the pack scent and his hackles bristle as he considers that they might be from Blackfeather Woods. Yet, he knows the Wood’s scent …kind of. It was not easily discernible against the putrid smell of Olive and Dakarai’s blood but the scent of another pack is hard to mask even with blood; and by the time the dark woman comes to rest is fiery gaze his hackles are smooth and he is every bit calm and collected. Every bit the gangster (though he has some so close to losing his temper several times recently).

Arturo lets out a low chuff to announce his presence to her, in case she had yet to notice him.

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Tirgatao is glad for morning. Night brings all manner of scavangers out to lurk and prey upon the weak. She understood the necessity of such things, as culling the weak to nurture the strong was part of life, but she did not belong among the shadows where unsightly creatures dwelled. When their stomachs growled, they split from one another, Tirgatao wandering south while Heda remained on the same relative path. She didn't go far, no more than a half mile, so that she could listen for anything requiring her immediate attention.

As she wandered in search of food to share, she began to move in wide lazy curves from here to there as she wove through the woodland. She was able to pick up trace trails of game and other animals but, so far, nothing proved fruitful. Tirgatao was not one who became easily frustrated with a lack of productivity, so she continued on, hoping to root out something—suddenly, a flurry of feathers erupted from a bush, and she reacted before her mind could make heads or tails of it. The she-wolf whipped her head around, and her jaws connected with the ribcage of a seagull. It struggled and flapped frantically against Tirgatao's vice grip until she bit down, hard, and ended it. She hovered there a moment, bewhildered, covered in blood and feathers, but ultimately pleased. 

When the pale-she wolf turned and began her short trek back to Heda, she caught wind of an unfamiliar musk. Tirgatao inhaled sharply and broke into a sprint, slowing only once she caught sight of the pair between the boulders. She circled back around behind Thuringwethil and moved to stand a few feet off her hip, still clutching the bird in her jaws. Her ears twitched towards Heda, but her eyes were fixed somewhere on Arturo's snout.

Thuringwethil doesn’t have any luck finding a meal but she does find a scent that holds her interest and, before long, she has a face to apply. Her dark eyes lift as she searches the tall wolf in his approach and his polite chuff doesn’t go unnoticed. She remains silent for a moment as she nods, acknowledging his presence, but the scent of Tirgatao and blood is near and her concern fades away from the stranger. When she turns her head to see the pale wolf emerge, a limp bird in her jaws, she gives a slight sight of relief before she returns the attention to the wolf standing across the way.

“Hello,” she calls out, thinking about the wolves they met the day prior in the Nereides. The male seems far too confident to be one of the women-faring pack and she wonders what else he has in store for her to learn. On Sleeping Dragon, she had her hand in the nearby territories and little went on without her noticing but the whole stretch of coast and those within proximity gave her a slight worry as she invades their space. Still, Drageda is far enough away from another civilization that she doesn’t suspect much trouble. “I am commander Thuringwethil of Drageda and this is one of our advisors, Tirgatao,” she introduces with a flick of her ear in Tirgatao’s direction.

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The dark woman introduces herself and her companion and Ceannasach’s gaze follows as the pale woman is introduced before it flickers back to rest upon the one who calls herself Thuringwethil. The pack named Drageda is foreign to the gangster, evidenced by the slight crease of his brow. To be fair, he knows of few and the most important packs that had resided as his allies are now gone. Little more than dust on the wind, alive only by those of Teaghlaigh that remember them, that give voice to them on the rare occasion they have to speak of them. Teaghlaigh stands on her own, back to it’s sentinel mountains that rise like guardians on either side. That is all they have now. Their forest, the mountains that protect them and their own strength. Teaghlaigh grows but the loom of Blackfeather is a potential threat that Arturo does not take kindly to. He does not underestimate them or the lengths they may go to. It unsettles him, having very vague knowledge about them for without knowledge he is not in control. He tucks these thoughts away for later when he is alone once more.

“Arturo Fearghal,” He speaks his name in return with a dip of his sharply cut crown. “Sovereign of Teaghlaigh.” He speaks his rank’s translation instead of it’s Irish counterpart. He has no red herring now. Even if he did he would be forward. She is the Commander and though it is not particularly a rank of high standing within his own hierarchy he recognizes that it is within her own. She is important enough to have an escort, at least. He does not mention his queen, Lotte, but this is because complete and blind trust has never been Arturo’s way. Trust is a liability that he does not extend beyond what social interactions dictate of it. He supposes, for all intents and purposes, he acts now as Lotte’s red herring. To project himself as sole leader in the face of strangers is not to insult but rather to protect her and the lives that grow within her womb.

“I must admit I am not familiar with your Drageda.” He has not heard of them and he seeks to abruptly change that. "Is your pack near?" Arturo inquires wondering if he needs to send a scouting party out to search up and down the coast so that he is not where he does not want to be: in the dark.

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The male—Arturo, the Sovereign of Teaghlaigh, is a sharply cut figure with shrewd ember orange eyes and dark points. His features are distinguishable as a hybrid, but Tirgatao is unable to ascertain the exact nature of it by appearance alone. She does, however, find herself quite enamored with his roguish looks and has to take a moment to reflect, inwardly, on her presence here and what it means for Heda. She is able to keep most of it underwraps, though her gaze lingers upon the sleek sweep of his muzzle for just a moment too long.

"Not terribly," Tirgatao supplies in a warm tone with kind smile. "it has been a season or two since Drageda has sent out ambassadors and we wanted to see how things have changed in the south. You're home is one of the first we've encountered, actually, and it has been some time since we departed..." She hoped that would sooth his natural unease, while not taking the floor away from Heda whom she looks to now.

The male introduces himself soon after with a word Thuringwethil isn’t sure she knows. Only a crease in her brow is given in confusion and she glances at Tirgatao that proceeds to answer. By the way he holds himself and the importance he holds, she can at least tell he’s a leader, if not the leader. He focuses on her the same way as she does him and they regard each other, sizing the other up for determination of their respective packs. Tirgatao doesn’t mention anything of their ways, nor of their move, and she keeps that information locked away. Even if they are stronger now, their weakened state doesn’t deserve any mention.

“Two wolves from a southern pack trespassed on my lands and they knew the Donnelaith wolves. One of my own, her sister resides there, and she’d gone to visit her a few weeks ago and has never returned,” she says with a deep breath, not letting her eyes stray far. If his pack is to the south, it very well could have been one of theirs, but she watches him carefully for any sign of his expression that his words may not give away.

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The pallid woman speaks kindly, responding to his question, and he is not surprised by her observation. With the absence of Donnelaith and Blackrock Depths the Coast is barren except for Teaghlaigh …and apparently Drageda. A pack that, according to their words, resides in the very Northern reaches of the Coast. Not anywhere near Teaghlaigh and thus not really much of Arturo’s concern. So long as there is no animosity to be found and no reason for dispute he does not see why they should ever need to cross paths or be enemies. His only concern is with the territories immediately close to Teaghlaigh, otherwise the Coast is free and fair game. His infernal gaze flickers back to the Commander as she speaks of two trespassing wolves: not his own, certainly …though he thinks with soft disdain that two of his own had trespassed in Blackfeather Woods recently and does not necessarily know that for sure. Who else had been committing crimes that he has not sanctioned behind his back? He knows his wolves are not responsible, however, if only because until a few seconds ago he was not privy to Drageda’s existence.

That conclusion only left one viable option. “Blackrock Depths out of Stavanger Bay.” Arturo tells them, for what other pack on the Coast besides Teaghlaigh was close to Donnelaith? None. “Donnelaith was lost to fire that tore through it’s sentinels. I know that because my wife was caught in the blaze and had spent several months recovering from the smoke and her burns.” Perhaps Lotte would never be fully recovered. Physically, yes, but mentally? Perhaps not. “Stavanger Bay was spared the fire but they are long gone. It is just my Teaghlaigh.” He informs them simply.

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Tirgatao notes the glance Heda sent her and shoots one back, though it is paired with a relaxed smile and a wave of her tail. She hadn't meant to tread upon her, and the intention was merely to spare Thuringwethil the labors of recanting their mission here—there is something in her expression that indicates an apology, but it isn't outright spoken before the Sovereign. However, her actions did allow them both to arrive quite swiftly to the heart of the matter. Now the advisor lapsed into a comfortable silence as the two leaders addressed one another, though she kept her ears trained on the conversation while her eyes watched Arturo's muscles for any subtle shifts that would indicate a change in intent.

It surprises her, however, to hear of the pack lost to the fires, and the unexplained disappearance of the Stavanger wolves. One rounded ear splays towards Heda, and she wonders just what the Commander might make of the information. "I hope she is well now." Tirgatao offers simply with a softness to her tone.

As it turns out, she easily gets a title and location for the culprits. Neither names are particularly familiar to her and she regrets not asking Emaleth more when she’d been around but now, where is she? The fire that took the forest her sister lives—lived—puts a strange feeling. Her mind falls far enough back to remember Lucani and her home there. Did she make it out alive or did the forest swallow her and the others in a fiery coffin? Her jaw tenses and she wards the thoughts from her mind when she feels it far too close from revealing her emotions.

While Tirgatao has given condolences to his wife, Thuringwethil gives a single nod to add in her own spirits but her concern does not lie with some woman she does not know. “Did they leave because of the fire?” she questions, finding a missing piece in the information. If their home was spared, why leave at all? Why live right next to a place that was already filled with wolves? Still, more questions fill her but she holds them back as they currently prove useless and unlikely to have answers if Arturo does not know more than he says.

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The pale woman offers her well wishes and Arturo accepts them with a grateful inclination of his head. His tail flicks against his hocks as the dark Commander asks if it was the fires that had chased the Depth wolves away. A single ear flicks to the side as he contemplates her question and more importantly why it matters. The point was that Blackrock Depths was no longer around, so why did it matter why they left? Arturo was not privy to his ally’s disappearance. Though it affected him in some ways, in that the Coast no longer had anything more for him and his Family, it also didn’t affect Teaghlaigh. “I do not know,” Arturo admits simply. “It may have been and it may not have been. I was not privy to their going-on’s.” He hadn’t spoken with any Depth wolves in quite some time. The last time he could recall was shortly after Furiosa’s death and that had been some time ago. He does not have any solid answers to offer the Commander of Drageda and if she did not believe him she was free to head down to the Bay and check for herself. He has told her what little he knows and if any of his wolves knows more than he none had felt so inclined to share it with him.

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Tirgatao flicks her gaze sideways at Thuringwethil as she voices her question, then back to Arturo. It was becoming clear the Teaghlaigh Sovereign preferred keeping to himself, and his own, rather than pry into the happenings of the nearby packs. She couldn't fault him for it, but it did leave them slightly befret of useful knowledge. The pale Shouna didn't know much of the Blackrock wolves aside from what little Heda told her, so it didn't have much impact on her personal point of view.

She smiled and nodded, but chose to remain silent and allow Thuringwethil to wrap up the meeting.

The male doesn’t have any information that she needs and she grunts, glancing toward Tirgatao. She doesn’t have anything to say but she tucks away the frustration and brushes it off. Wolves of a nearby trespassed into her land and she cannot receive justice for them, nor can she find anything else out about Emaleth. The fire could have taken her life and for that, her chest hurts for the young girl, but she does not bring it up again. If any is left of the blackrock wolves, there is likely not much for her to get her vengeance on them. “It was nice to meet you,” she says, hiding her displeasure with the encounter. She notes what she can of the wolf and beckons Tirgatao to follow her elsewhere.