Fairspell Meadow they once belonged to me

for @Titmouse

She had lingered at the border for a while, before stepping over it sometime around midmorning. If Vaati didn't want her to leave, it was a simple matter of coming after her. But she was a Tyro, now, and even though she felt that she was not equal to the others, as long as she wasn't a captive she should be provided with the freedom to leave. 

Leaving the wood was like taking a breath of air after the longest time underwater, the open sunlight of the meadow almost painful compared to the dark blankness of the cave and the shadows of Blackfeather. Hell, her wardens packmates had called it, and Cassiopeia felt hundreds of untold secrets lay buried throughout the place. Potema's monstrosities, the man that raved of gods and blood and fear, she felt them to simply be the tip of the iceberg. Here in the meadow, standing among the grasses and undergrowth as it died and decayed, she felt oddly still.

A day or so after his acceptance, and Titmouse had gone off from the caldera.. again. The first time had been to explore, to remember, but he'd passed through the Bramble already this morning and had decided to go a little further this time. The meadow was what really caught his attention. Even without a proliferation of flowers he could find the spot where he'd caught up to Liffey; he could look back at the woodland behind him and recall the memory of the criss-crossing trees, their limbs, and the many shadows. The flowers were gone and there was a chill in the air, but Titmouse wasn't afraid of this place. He wasn't nervous in the slightest - almost as if he expected to see Liffey somewhere, to start their adventure over again. 

After about an hour of loitering in the meadow (sniffing at odd things, rolling in dead flowers and even a discarded chunk of bird's nest beneath a tree -) Titmouse was ready to return to the forest, and then to the caldera. He found a narrow animal-path to follow and was on his way, except.. He went the wrong direction. The boy was a warrior, not a navigator! He didn't realize that the distant forest on the horizon (dark and eerie, even from so far off) was the wrong forest. He paused when he realized he might've been off course, and that was when he saw her.

She was a dark figure moseying through the meadow. Tit's first thought was of Raven. 'Hey mom!' he nearly called out, but instead plastered a grin on his face and ran. Filled with a sudden glee, the boy bolted after the wolf-shape without a second thought, nearly careening in to them when he was nearer simply because Tit wasn't paying attention to the topography. He came upon her from behind, and really.. Don't all black wolves look the same from the wrong angle anyways?

Pounding footfalls had her twist wildly, half-expecting some Blackfeather wolf. But she was no longer within her territory, and those brief frozen seconds, she was quick to realize that this was a stranger. She launched herself forward a beat later, every nerve screaming danger, already on edge from so long in the wood. Fangs sought flesh desperately, going straight for the face. An impact was destined, seeing as the stranger careened straight towards her and she straight towards him; what was yet to be determined was just how much damage she could cause in the first blow.

To say he was surprised by her response would've been quite an understatement. First he was stunned, next he was hurt emotionally - thinking this was Raven and she was, for whatever reason, striking at him - and last, the fierce physical sting of pain as teeth met the flesh of his face. The hold wasn't strong at all, but those teeth sliced in to Titmouse's cheek and glanced off his jawbone as he pulled violently free of contact. The yelp of his pain and emotions carried across the meadow. 

Titmouse did not buckle. He did what came naturally and was ducking, twisting, striking out - and in those fleeting moments, he caught sight of green where there should have been yellow, and knew this wasn't his mother at all.

Her fangs met their intended target, blood hot and metallic on her tongue, the scrape of bone jarring. The boy did not falter beneath her quick onslaught, instead twisting and striking out at her. Shock turned to rage; the audacity of this stranger to attack her at random. Fangs met her chest, dull pain echoing through her, though the feeling was ignored and her own attack increased. Ears lay flat against her skull and her muzzle darted low, seeking to grasp a forelimb and deliver as much damage as possible. To go straight for the throat, she felt, was too obvious, and should she injure a crucial limb the fight may sway in her favour.

Having never been in a real fight, Tit did not know how to respond to the increased aggression of this stranger. He only knew that his blows were weak by comparison; either they did not connect, or when they did there was little result. The pain in his face had abated as soon as her teeth had been pulled free of it, but only because he was experiencing a mild form of shock. There was no such luck with his defensive maneuvers - he missed almost every attempt as he swerved and snapped, ducking and weaving around her. 

When he thought he was free of her range of motion, he lifted his head slightly - wanting a better view of his assailant - and that was a bad move. She had decided to try a low attack and was diving in, reaching with her teeth for one of his limbs, and Tit didn't see it coming. Her teeth sank in to his nearest forelimb as he was moving, and the sensation made him bark sharply - then, held firm by the anchor she had become, Titmouse twisted the wrong way and fell head-over-feet against the ground.

The sharp crack of his ulna was the next thing to ring out over the withered flowers.

Cassiopeia has left the dark woods. He felt it when she did, and he had been quick to follow. But not quick enough, it had seemed, as the distant snarls got louder and louder and the sudden crack of a skull hitting the ground struck a an ice cold blade within him. But upon the revelation that it was her standing over the victim and not vice-versa caused him to feel a sense of relief. That was, until the realization dawned upon him that she had just killed a man. A man with a pack behind him. The scent was clear, this was no disposable loner with no loyalties to his side, but someone that would have someone looking for him in places one was not meant to look. His stomach sinks silently, realizing that perhaps, he wishes that he would rather be looking at a scene that would have caused him heartbreak rather than fear in this situation. 

Vaati steps forward once, uncharacteristically calm but his body language reeks of something otherwise. "What have you done," His tone is dangerously low, as if he can't quite believe what he sees. Stupid, stupid girl. He should never have set her free. He should not have trusted her to stay within the shadows as she was meant to, as he had made it clear she was never allowed to go beyond. And yet the first thing she had done was exactly that, and oh, he loathes her for it. The Silencer rushes towards the stranger who appears to be just beyond a year old, checking willfully that he is still breathing. The woods could not afford this now, not with the threat of the Cerberus and whoever was to come for what they did to the fire-kissed woman. Vaati is quick to panic, hearing his heartbeat ring in his ears as he struggles to think of what to do. He has never had the task of cleaning up the incident before, and never thought he would have had to, but he knows quite simply that the consequences of Cassiopeia's actions are great. Should this stranger's packmates discover what had happened, or who exactly had done it.... Vaati shudders silently, knowing that the outcome would be more terrifying than the fear he already feels in regards to what he sees before him.

Vaati entertains the idea of simply dragging him off. There seemed to be no other viable option. Waiting around for the other to get up, focus and perhaps threaten him into never repeating what had occurred seemed all too risky, standing around with him the open was certianly dangerous enough and killing him left a trail full of questions and even more consequences. In his frustration, Vaati turns to the girl who had failed with new eyes; optics filled with a hatred he had never felt towards her before. Nor had he ever thought he would, not even in her defiance. "You will pay for this, we all will." His tone holds a deathly warning within, blamed half on her and half on him for failing to do what he was meant to: to keep his home safe, even from her and her idiotic choices. But he does not leave time for an explanation before gripping one of the stranger's ankles in his teeth and tugging in the direction of Blackfeather Woods, indicating for the girl to do the same. They could only get so far before the other starts to protest.

It registered somewhere that the stranger's attacks were weak, barely opening any wounds on her pelt. It struck her as odd, and that was enough for something to tighten in her chest. And yet she did not pause in her attack, holding fast until the crack startled her back. It echoed loudly in the quick silence of their fight, and she dropped her grip, moving back. It was one thing for a strategy to form in her mind, another for it to take effect in such a devastating manner. 

Silence stretched between them as she stared at the boy, registering fully the damage she had caused. And beside the disgust at herself, there grew something else; power, and self-satisfaction. It was an ugly thing to feel, but she could do nothing to stop it, for no longer would she feel helpless if she knew that this she was capable of. And then came Vaati, and the power faded as quickly as it had come. Her gaze turned towards him, burning green. "He attacked me" She hissed in turn, gaze following the boy as he moves to the stranger. His disapproval hurts, more than she would expect it too, and she is silent. He mutters that they will all pay, and her chest feels as if pierced by fangs. It would be so easy to fall beside him wordlessly and do exactly as he commands, but she cannot bear to bring unto this boy what she thinks will happen to him, nor can she believe the actions the boy will take will lessen the harm of whatever she's done.

 "No." The word is low, empty, and her gaze is dull. Her mind struggles to work against the stress of the situation, and her words are clipped and hollow. "Drag him back, and he can be tracked." They would only pay if they were found out, and she struggled to cover her own err, holding just as much weight in this as Vaati. The boy lived, and as she stared at him and the damage she had caused, her mind slowed to a struggling snail pace, what she had done catching up with her. There was terror in him, and fear, and the same emotions echoed in her own gaze. She addressed him next, words sharp and tinged with desperation. "Who are you?" 

Fading out Tit! You can continue if you'd like.

With his face ground down against the dirt he could not see anything, couldn't hear anything. In a split second things seemed to move too fast for Titmouse - he was scrambling to get to his feet but failing, too shocked and pumped full of adrenaline to feel the full pain of his wounds. He smelled blood - he tasted it - and then, he screamed.

It was more of a gasp. A lurch and gulp for precious air, because the shock was beginning to wear off. The metal of his blood was on his tongue and turning to mud, he was flailing and rolling, tucking his limbs close. The presence of a third body did not register - nor did the conversation, not until he felt the pinch of teeth on his hind leg, the tug as he was dragged back. The boy loosed a scream and he kicked his limbs, pawing with his good forelimb, and fought hard to make the movement stop.

He screamed and he fought, and he did not hear the question from the dark girl - although he saw her green eyes trained on him and felt a burning rage take the place of his pain. He roared, LET ME GO! STOP! D-D-DON'T TOUCH ME! And whether or not his kicks made contact, the aptly named Screech would do his best to make himself heard. 

Not too long now, though. His head was fogging up, he was seeing the forest growing darker - as if the grove on the horizon was getting bigger every moment, ready to swallow him up - and his pleas did not last too long. The last thing Tit would remember upon waking would be a pair of vibrant green eyes, and the overwhelming panic of letting his family down, again.