Lost Creek Hollow Hiya, Lou

tags just for reference, showing a weeeeee bit of improvement on Joss' end. But don't get your hoeps up too much. @Pyro

Among other things that Joss had been tasked with, patrolling the borders made the list; but not patrolling the borders in the daytime when it was a bit warmer, but at night time when the temperature slid down below freezing and the wind picked up, to make his job even more challenging. Jos had put a winter coat on- but it wasn't nearly as thick as it ought to be, due to malnutrition. The only way for him to stay warm was to move at a decent clip, stopping only to investigate a new scent or leave a new mark- and both were done hastily. 

With the cloud cover, there wasn't much to see and no moonlight to guide the way for him, so it was a dim and cold night as he was prompted to leave his den- but for once, it wasn't by a fellow packmate. This time, he'd simply come to accept the fact that @Treason or @Terance would be waking him up around this time to send him on a patrol so he got up before either of them could do it. This way, he hoped, he could do a patrol of the borders, chase down something to eat and then fall back into his den to sleep the morning away.

In barely a week's time Pyro had come from the shimmering sands at the westernmost edges of Teekon, to the Sunspire Mountains where his pack had once resided, and in a single day he had managed to descend the mountain, cross the valley and go around Easthollow to see his packlands in the distance. Not an easy feat if you ask. The seasoned wanderer had to cut down on resting time and strictly monitor his hunting habits to stay on schedule, so after days of exhausting travelling and a last long day of hiking Pyro felt the weight of his own body challenge his legs to continue to move forward, but he was so close to getting home that he couldn't allow himself to stop.

Well past dusk Pyro finally found the border scents of Lost Creek Hollow, and although everything had changed and they had moved far from where everything had started, it still felt like coming back home. He howled from afar to announce his return and crossed the borders without much care for protocol. He needed a good meal, a bath and a whole night of sleep again, and he would not be a useful being until he got all three, but a shadow on the corner of his eye made him stop halt to look around with suspicion. Any packmate he knew would have come to greet him, so in his tired, sleepy mind it only made sense that whatever his eye had caught creeping was surely an intruder. So he crept in its direction, making an effort to be silent, and as he saw it move again he leaped to find himself faced to a cadaverous looking canine. Intruder! he barked out loud and wasted no time to go on full-chase mode.

Dude...I just laughed my glasses off.

Joss didn't want much to do with this patrolling business, but it wasn't because he felt his own safety was at risk, nor did he really realize how detrimental it was to have someone like him patrolling. The only added benefit of having Joss mark borders were the markings he left behind here and there. His presence, however, was a blotch on the pack's reputation, a detriment to whatever appearance they'd have should an ambassador from another pack pass by, or should another wolf come to join them. They would certainly be deterred by seeing his famine-wrought frame. It was a pity, then, when his best asset along the borders was his urine; Joss himself was a disgrace. 

He'd no more than flicked an ear and snorted skeptically at the abrasive and shrill wail in the distance. Whoever that was, they needed a Halls and a swig of Buckely's, stat. Greeting strangers at the borders wasn't his job, fortunately, so he considered this to be a 'not my circus, not my monkeys' sort of situation and continued to amble along, dithering more than anything, but nevertheless adding markings here and there so that he was contributing in some way. So he shouldn't have been surprised when a stranger caught sight of him, barked a confusing accusation and then bolted. Joss was the type of wolf whose reflexes could best be likened to those of a dead camel, so moronically he cast a quizzical look over his shoulder- a choice that cost him several precious seconds- before he realized that the male hurtling toward him hadn't caught sight of an actual intruder. He'd caught sight of Joss.

He dropped to a crouch before he sprang in the opposite direction and began to scream "NOT!! NOT!! NOT!!!" as a high-pitched, yipping ki-yay as he scampered, clawed feet scrambling for purchase in the snow-covered, icy ground. He took one glance over his shoulder and instinctively gritted his teeth together, squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath- this was going to suck.

sorry this turned out shorter than I intended... I'm drained today

And soon enough, without much effort, and paying no mind to the creatures pleads for life, Pyro managed to catch up and grab the skinny ass attempting to run away from him. Using his claws to anchor himself to the ragged intruder Pyro leaped, sending both of them bowling to the ground with a loud 'oof', and there, already upon him, Pyro realized the dog carried the scent of The Hollow.

Dang it.

Who are you, was all he could think of. He looked too weird to be a wolf, but way too large to be a dog or a coyote. And even if he carried the scent of his pack, the creature was too ugly to be a Lost Creek Hollow wolf. They were all so fine looking here!

Joss squinted as Pyro collided with him, grabbing him with his much stronger limbs and dragging him to the ground. He tumbled and rolled a couple times, but the larger wolf had it easy when it came to bowling over and pinning Joss, who wasn't much more than a stick figure. He tucked his head down, using his narrow chin to try and protect his throat, and he curled his forelegs to his chest. His tail was tucked up along his belly so tightly that the tip of it nearly touched his nose and he was prepared to urinate should he be required to show yet another level of submission- fortunately, the male didn't snap or bite at him, and seemed to realize the error he'd made...But that didn't mean he backed off. 

"Joss." He answered quickly, before adding "Punishment rank," He said. He hated those words- but it was Treason's call when he was to be promoted or set free from his imprisonment. So, hoping to clarify the situation, he spoke again. "Treason's prisoner." Though that wasn't necessarily true, not even in the slightest. Treason hadn't exactly taken him as a prisoner- she'd kept him as a slave so that he could fulfill the debt he owed for having trespassed. He hoped, though, that the dude holding him down would get the point- that he was more or less owned by Treason, and that maybe she wouldn't be pleased if one of her packmates broke him. 

Then again, she still probably wouldn't give a damn.

The mutt explained that he was none other than Treason's own prisoner, and knowing better than to mess with the beta's possessions Pyro quickly lifted his weight from the other male and gathered himself just next to him, offering space for him to do the same. My apologies. I must have been away when you joined. I didn't recognize you, he said, but the anxious boy that had existed once had been replaced by a confident and well mannered man. I'm Pyro, he said courteously but he was curious to know how it came to be that the hollow now had prisoners and after a short silence he dared asking: what did you do to her? with a bit of disbelief filtering through his voice. He had always seen Treason as more of a kill on the spot kind of wolf, and he couldn't imagine her having trouble dealing with this one.

It seemed that simply mentioning Treason's name was enough to get the dude to haul off him and give him a bit of space. No wonder he'd found it so surprising when Treason said she might have kids; even her name being mentioned seemed to act as a sort of deterrent, and made others fearful of upsetting her even when she wasn't right there. Did that mean that he was untouchable, as he was pretty much her possession? Regardless, he was glad that the guy- Pyro as he called himself- believed him and let him get up, even though his ribs ached slightly from being tackled. 

"Joss." He wheezed simply, straightening himself up a little- but still retaining most of his trademark slouch. Pyro inquired as to what he'd done, and earned a slightly mean side-eye from Joss; who wouldn't have dared to give him a full-on glare. But the side-eye was his specialty, and he felt it often worked enough. He shrugged one angular shoulder; he still felt the whole situation was pretty unfair. "Was travelling through the swamp South of here. Couldn't smell an effin' thing. Started travelling North through the middle of some river to get the stink and mud off. Apparently crossed the borders. Didn't think you could mark a river but whatever." He said, still surprisingly spiteful about being judged for what he'd done. It'd been an honest mistake- and it wasn't as though Treason could have marked the river to claim it as hers...But the river flowed through the packlands, and though he hadn't been near the banks, and had had swamp stink still clogging up his nose, it had been enough to condemn him for what seemed like the rest of his life.