Heron Lake Plateau always time for second guesses

They did not have to travel far before they reached the plateau's westernmost ridge, but even after passing across the territory border she could not make herself stop; @Phox was still in the lead and she fell in to pace behind him, as she had been trained, only slowing when he did and only stopping when he told her to, however she couldn't sit still. Adrenaline had reignited her worries and the many foreign scents of the packland had her pacing. Camilla's wide-eyed stare had eased up though, and that was a plus. She no longer looked the part of a spooked deer. She paced and pivoted, eventually seeking out one of the few trees in the vicinity - wanting nothing more than to coil up again and sleep, to hide, and wait for morning.

But she couldn't do that. In her mind, Phox was her rescuer as well as a potential suitor - so to speak - and she felt justified when she called out with a low croon to him, her eyes deviating to the dirt at her feet as she drifted towards him, her strides even despite the shaking of her limbs. As she came up alongside him she began to preen at his neck fur, soft and afraid, and uttered, Th-thank, thank Phox, with a small bunt of her forehead at his cheek and chin. She was cowering beside him for a moment, as if to muster up her nerves, and stepped forwards -- so that she was facing away from him and her tail was near his chest. She bat it around a little and then moved it, whispering, Phox saved me, so.. So I make Phox happy.

What, exactly, was she offering? What all the men in her life have wanted, and taken, from her -- everything.

Safe and sound, at least for the moment. As the hours had passed and they had made their way back to Redhawk territory, Phox had become less worried about whatever stalker she had gotten herself. He still wasn’t quite clear on the details, but he did not need to be. She was scared, so he helped her to safety. Or at least what he assumed was safety. Hopefully this wouldn’t blow up in his face with Towhee running down and ripping them both to pieces.

Camilla thanked him, which he did appreciate. She had been stone silent during their trip, and he had not pressed her for more information. Whatever was going on, she was clearly traumatized and he really wasn’t sure how to deal with that sort of thing. He hoped that somebody in the Redhawk ranks would know what to do. Camilla’s next actions were confusing, if not a bit awkward.

Phox had—at some point—been taught about the birds and the bees. He had even come quite close to sealing the deal while he’d been away from home. But something had held him back, so he had not gone through with it. He was not sure that she was offering what he thought she was offering, so he pushed that thought aside and responded assuming more innocent intentions. I am happy to be home, he replied. I’ll be happier if Niamh and Quixote decide to let you stay.

The yearling had no deep attachment to her, but he knew he couldn’t just leave her out there. He’d had to try, so that was exactly what he was doing. He stepped beside her so that they were shoulder-to-shoulder, took a deep breath, then called for @Niamh and/or @Quixote.

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Occasionally, Niamh was nearby when other wolves called out for her, and as she spent a lot of time patrolling the borders, she was more often caught already patrolling when she was needed at some other part of the borderlands. This time, however, was not the best time, and as she and Colt had long since made up for their argument, their time shared together was even more meaningful and enjoyable. To such an extent and frequency that she was often tempted to steal more time out of her day to hunt him out and drag him back to their den. She’d done something along those lines, but before they could enjoy their time together, Phox called out for her. She groaned slightly and inevitably had some comment of his to roll her eyes at before she gave him an apologetic kiss, whispered something sassy in his ear and walked away, making sure to flaunt her assets as she did so until she was out of his sight.

She called out, letting them know she was on her way, and was grateful that she had a bit of time to calm her hormones down before she’d have to do anything leaderly. Winter had only just begun, but she already had her game-face on for when she and Colt would assumably be permitted to have a litter. She hadn’t asked yet- but surely to God Finley and Elwood were too old to crank out any more children (an ironic thought, considering the fact that Finley and Colt were littermates, unbeknown to Niamh) and Raven and Quixote would be the only other breeding pair. Still, she was able to shake the needy heebie-jeebies out of her system by the time she reached Phox, who was at the borders with a sheepish, small, and wild looking female.

He stood calmly and confidently at her side, but there was something about her nervous gaze that led Niamh to believe that she’d come from some kind of trouble. Concerned, she looked to Phox for an answer, chuffing lightly to prompt him to explain himself.

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She had expected more from his attention. More interest, at the very least. The men she was accustomed to were always staring at her or talking with her husbands, in no uncertain terms, about what they would do to her if given the chance - what they would give to have one hour, one night, to corrupt and lay waste to every little piece of her. The kindness that Phox had shown her in their short time together might've been right, in the sense that it was more wholesome than anything she could remember, but it wasn't natural in the world that she came from. There was always a price. There was always something that men would want in return. To be refused in that sly manner, that innocent way of a boy without a clue — it stung because it was so unfamiliar to her; Camilla's entire self-worth was denoted by men, discussed by men, traded around by men, and yet this boy was telling her otherwise. He didn't want her.

Camilla felt the stinging of water in her eyes - the kind of tears that could easily be explained away by the blustering of the cold air across the plateau, the kind that caress your face and chill your skin to the point where the eyes water, just water. She blinks away the moment; her vision clears and she's staring at the ground, jarred from her thoughts in the next moment by Phox's voice — the howl making her jump out of her skin at first. She swallows a lump in her throat and presses her shoulder against him, sharing his warmth since she can't share anything else. And she wonders as she waits - she thinks about those names he'd spoken and the people he's brought her to. If The Company has infiltrated this pack, exposed as it is, then whose to say she's truly safe here?

There was a returning call - not too far from them, so they would only spend a few moments together in awkward silence - and  before she knew it, a wolf was striding towards them. Their coat was a blazing shade of burnished gold, and the closer she got the more Camilla wanted to look at them —  at her; she stole glances, catching sight of the copper tone of the woman's face first, the fierce shade of her eyes. What made Camilla stare wasn't the woman's natural beauty but, rather, the way she composed herself. The confidence and power exuded in her movement. The way she waited for an explanation, perhaps waiting to be given leave to speak —  but no, that wasn't it. Even her silence was different. It was charged, it drew attention, demanded answers. Camilla found herself watching the stranger more directly than she meant to, and when Niamh looked at her she ducked her head and looked away. 

The strangeness of a powerful woman could not thwart the months of conditioning done to her. She should have been impressed by Niamh, and maybe to some degree she was, but there would always be a man to answer to. As far as Camilla was concerned, this woman was awaiting orders from Phox, or was the property of some other man — and yes, there was a male scent carried upon the golden woman, and the presence of it relaxed Camilla a little bit more than it should. She still locked her eyes upon the soil at her feet, pressed against Phox, her savior and protector, and waited for the man to speak.

Niamh arrived promptly, and Phox greeted her with a wag of his tail and a dip of his crown. He still had yet to really interact with Quixote, but he imagined he would have to at some point. He was glad it was Niamh who had answered his call. He had a feeling Quixote would not be as receptive to the situation as he suspected Niamh would be. There was no guarantee she would be down with his plan either, but he had to try. It was the least he could do. Even if the Redhawks refused to take her in, perhaps he could escort her... where? Maybe Drageda, where Wildfire lived? He wasn’t even sure how to get there, but maybe he could ask around and find a guide.

He felt Camilla press against him, and he cleared his throat. This is Camilla. I found her in Golden Glade hiding from some unsavory pursuers. He glanced to the wolf at his side, wondering if she had anything to add. I brought her back here. I told her I could bring her to safety. I don’t know if we can take her in, but I had to try. Phox couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more at play here, that something wasn’t quite right with Camilla, but whatever it was, he also did not think it was harmful. She seemed scared, confused, and somehow broken, but he had to believe that she could come out of it with time.

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Phox greeted her kindly, as he always seemed to, and it was no less than she’d expected from the fellow who seemed to be trying quite hard to make himself a good place within the pack’s ranks. What he’d brought with him was a stranger who eyed Niamh sheepishly, causing her to smile faintly, but the smile didn’t reach all the way up into her eyes this time, not quite. There was a feeling that she was teetering on the edge of panic as she remained plastered to Phox’s side, and she felt her heart sink a bit...How disappointed would they both be if she pulled another Niamh and didn’t allow her to join the pack? She was probably one of the hardest leaders to impress when it came to bringing a joiner to the borders, and she was leery of one that looked as though she’d lived as difficult a life as this one did. The female turned her head away as Niamh eyed her, and she felt herself frowning slightly. How long would it take for her to adjust to life in the pack? And would she be so fearful that she would depend on Phox and distract him from his duty to the pack if she was that needy?

Phox explained that her name was Camilla and that she had been in a situation where she hadn’t only just been mistreated, but that she was still trying to flee others who were trying to find her. This made Niamh want to turn her away almost immediately. Any wolf that had a hit on their name would inevitably draw drama to their borders and they didn’t need that in their midst, not when they were already short a member, and one of their leaders had just stepped down, and and and. There were many reasons not to take in someone who possibly had others out looking for them...And by the way this female seemed to be traumatized, they weren’t good wolves at all. If they were terrifying enough to leave her cowering before someone who looked as mild as Niamh, then she couldn’t imagine what it was they’d done to her….Or what they might do to her packmates if they were interrogated as to her whereabouts.

But at the same time- was she going to deny the poor creature a safe harbour? They’d done it before, for Caiaphas and her two children...And look how they’d been repaid. They’d taken in Rosalyn when she’d been injured, and look how they’d been repaid. As far as Niamh could tell, kindness wasn’t always repaid properly, and often, others chose to take advantage of them. There was no way to force someone to pay them back for their kindness, though from what she could tell at least this one seemed pretty indebted to Phox, and didn’t look like the type who would be ungrateful. How would Niamh have liked it had she been abused, and then turned away from every pack she went to simply because her abuser was still out there looking for her? She tried to place herself in the female’s position, but found it incredibly difficult to do so, given the fact that she hadn’t been there.

At least Phox seemed to understand that perhaps they couldn’t offer her shelter. He’d made her a promise, and Niamh wasn’t sure how to feel about that- because that meant that if they didn’t take her in here, she’d be sent elsewhere, and he’d take her there, which meant that yet again they’d temporarily be down another member. She found herself drawing closer and closer to the simplicity of denying her any possibility of living amongst them- until she realized exactly what she was doing. She wasn’t trying to make a judgement as she would naturally make one- she was trying to do what she figured Quixote would do. Surely to god he wouldn’t risk the pack by bringing in someone who was apparently being chased. And it was just by that fact alone that she chose to interrogate further- just in case there was some way they could bring her in safely, without worrying too much about others coming to look for her.

”Who’s looking for her?” She asked, assuming that Phox would be the one to answer for the female; she didn’t exactly expect Camilla to speak up, though she wouldn’t have cut her off if she did. ”How many, and why?” She asked. ”Obviously we can’t harbour a murderer, or someone who owes another wolf something...And if it comes down to the pack’s safety or hers, you know we might be forced to surrender her.” She considered the proximity of the Golden Glade, and shook her head. ”If you found her so close to our home, they may already be on their way.” She said, her tone darkening. Now, would she get in trouble for bringing Phox into the pack, if he in turn brought danger to their doorstep? She needed to know the very cut and dry answers to her questions before she made any decisions, but already things were weighed against Camilla’s favour, as much as part of Niamh wanted to just give in and take her in, for her safety.

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Phox started speaking and the sound of his voice, even at its youthful stage, visibly calmed the woman; she stopped pressing herself so close to him as he explained things, and she pivoted her ears so that she could hear him clearly (even though they were side-by-side, she wanted to show how attentive she was to him, how interested,) and gradually Camilla came to understand something. The manner in which he spoke was less like a master, and more like — well, she had no words for the opposite of that. He spoke of her needing help and a place to hide with an inflection that lacked the confidence and power she expected, almost like he was asking permission -- but that didn't mesh with what she knew of people. Her skewed sense of reality was making itself more prominent within her own mind, and it only got worse when the conversation switched back to the golden woman before them — she asked questions without issue, without asking for permission from Phox, and the more she spoke the more confused Camilla felt. Her ears pivoted forwards as soon as she started in on her inquisition of Camilla's situation and as she listened her ears flipped back, slicking against her head.

She glanced from Phox to Niamh and back again, a few times actually, as if she was witnessing someone sprouting a second head. Her eyes were a little wider, her mouth slipping open in shock, everything was exposed — and then she let out a little whine. But her head ducked again, as if knowing her whine wasn't appropriate or something of that nature. Maybe she expected her nervous response to earn a negative reaction (like a snap, or some sharp words, but some kind of reprimand).

Camilla decided to take the initiative, even if it felt wrong. It felt so, so wrong to insert herself in to this conversation; up until now she was present, she was the subject for heck's sake — but it wasn't her place, and as she began to answer the questions she was stuttering and watching Phox, not the woman who asked, like he was an interpreter and she was speaking some alien language only he would know. That was, more or less, pretty accurate. He was the one with all the power according to her, and so he was the one Camilla answered to.

M-m-my, uhm... A m-man, her voice was so quiet and so filled with stress that it was difficult for her to answer anything, and on top of that she was freezing, hungry — her teeth began to chatter when she paused, trying to make sense of her thoughts and the questions. I hide, he — he was chasing b-but I got away, and I hide, and -- and Phox find, save me. It didn't clear anything up but she was trying. Her tongue flicked across her lips, spreading a comforting warmth across her chapped lips; I can w-work. I can hunt, I can m-mend, I know p-plants, herbs, m-medicine, um... Stars too, I know stars, I can learn and I can -- I can do anything. Anything Phox want.

The more she spoke the quieter she got, until the last bit - that was almost inaudible, except to the boy beside her.

The questions Niamh asked were not ones Phox was able to answer, so he was thankful when Camilla spoke up. He supposed he should have asked her before they even got here, but he had wanted to get her to safety before grilling her on what had happened. He winced when Niamh said they might have to surrender her, and he hoped it would not be a choice they would need to make. How could he promise to keep her safe, then turn her over to the very wolf who was after her? That was precisely the opposite of keeping her safe.

It seemed as though she only had one wolf after her, which was something he felt entirely capable of dealing with... even though he most certainly wasn’t a fighter like Towhee. The thought of protecting somebody else did make it a lot more probable that he would step in if needed, though. He had a duty to help Camilla, and Phox did not wish to back out of that.

I’ll look after her, he said to Niamh, his eyes pleading more than anything else. And if trouble comes, I’ll make sure it doesn’t disrupt the pack. Even if that meant taking her elsewhere. He cast Camilla a sideways glance and smiled, hoping it was some sort of comfort. He wondered if anybody had ever cared for her at all.

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Camilla was the one who came forward to speak up, and Niamh couldn’t help but pity the female who had obviously been so terrified by whoever it was- her man, apparently- that her speech was broken and stilted. This made Niamh feel better...If it was a pack of wolves coming after her because she’d done something wrong, then Niamh wouldn’t allow them to join as they would potentially endanger the whole pack. In this situation, they would be cruel to turn away a female who was trying to run away from what Niamh could only assume was an abusive husband. Perhaps she should have asked more- but she was willing to assume the rest of Camilla’s story, and with Phox becoming willing to stand up to anyone who came for her, she nodded.

”Our pack will protect you.” She said with a nod, glancing to Phox. He wouldn’t have to be alone in taking care of her- if someone chose to disturb the peace of the pack, they’d all be involved. She wouldn’t let Phox be the only one to deal with an abusive ex-husband. It was clear that she wanted to help as well, and in particular, she seemed attached to Phox who had somehow become her guardian of sorts.  ”You must contribute to the pack as you stay here, but it might be best to avoid the borders for some time.” She said. Just in case her pursuer came to the plateau looking and caught her scent. If it was enough to make him trespass, then they would all be in danger. ”If more than one comes searching for her, though,” Niamh said, ”Then we’ll have to reassess the situation.” She said. She gestured, then, for Camilla to go further into the claimed packlands, and away from the borders as she had indicated before.

”Come in, now. Let’s have Phox show you around,” She said, gently rubbing the side of her muzzle against Camilla’s, imparting a bit of courage as well as her own scent so that she could feel as though she belonged. 

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She wasn't sure what was going to happen at first, but when Niamh finally took in all the information that Camilla provided (which albeit wasn't much), she seemed less on-edge and more welcoming. It was Phox's comment that drew Camilla's attention first; he said he'd look after her and that was more than any man had ever done for her. She was worried that this might've been a ploy for a moment longer—that they were in cahoots with her husband or at least affiliated somehow with The Company, but one look at Phox told her otherwise. Then, Niamh approached her and it took a concerning amount of mental energy for her not to duck her head or bolt from the spot. The woman welcomed her with a touch that was so soft—her eyes shut and she licked her lips nervously, but the sensation came and went, and there wasn't any pain to it. 

As the golden woman pulled away, Camilla watched her. She wasn't fully invested yet, wasn't going to trust any of this so easily, but for a few beats of her heart she felt calm and thankful. Lets have Phox show you around, the woman had said. Camilla nodded—and whenever Phox made their move, she'd follow.