Ankyra Sound it will fill your lungs, if you'll have it

her lips curl back over her fangs and her tongue scrapes against her fangs as she tries to rid her maw of the unfortunately inedible crab. she's taken a liking to their flesh, so much like a prize in the midst of their shell, and so it is somewhat upsetting to find that they lack a synchronized taste. spitting a wad of crab into the sand, she turns the creature over with a ginger paw, and finds it to be unusually stiff. perhaps more dated than she'd originally thought it, and a press of her limbs has a leg, two, snap off easily. with a huff, she continues down the shore, muzzle hung to search for more inviting morsels.

He spots the dark shape by the seaside and moves to investigate; but he is still sore about the defeat of Rosalyn, the threat of the battle upon the unborn she carries, and thinks to himself — perhaps he will have his way with this friend of Vaati as compensation. The thought slips from his mind as he nears where she was eating, finding a crushed crab with scattered parts and little meat to spare. She has already shifted across the sand and put distance between them, quick and agile, and besides, he likes the way her body moves. It suits him to feign interest in the rocks along the shoreline, the tangled webs of green that net fragmented shells and stones and detritus together; he roams, drawing closer and closer, but keeps his head down as if he does not see her. He spares fleeting glances when he thinks she is not wise to his interests.

it is difficult not to notice the only other wolf moving along the strand, despite her fixation on her next meal. when she finally pauses in her search and swings back her muzzle to regard him, she recognizes him then as the man from the borders. his head is low, searching, perhaps, for the same as she."I never got your name."  she ought to have asked Vaati, but she was too focused on settling her nausea to remember the fact that he'd never offered it.

She noticed him; he likes to think that they've been trailing one another, as if some romantic notion plagues them in to meeting here upon the beach. He knows that's not the case. She is Vaati's, but that doesn't bother him in the slightest, rather, it makes him more invested — attracted more to the idea of taking something from the glacial man as if women were pawns in a game.

When she speaks, he pretends to be interested in something among the scattered stones for a moment, and then raises his head, directs his eyes to her face. The man's golden mane blusters a bit against a breath of sea wind. Firefly, he answers. Then he dips his nose to the soil again and begins kicking over some of the larger rocks; they make wet suction noises as the sand releases them, but he sees nothing that he wants. How long have you known Vaati? The man queries next, seemingly putting aside his poor hunt in favor of her company.

something shifts among the rocks; a crab, no bigger than her pawpad, scuttled beneath the safety of a rock. not worth the effort required to unearth it, and her attention returns to the man. Firefly. she accepts this name in silence, though something about it doesn't seem fitting for a man who bears as many scars as he does. 

he moves to push over a few of the larger rocks. insects and tiny crustaceans scutter for cover in the cold sands, their miniature world destroyed and revealed. evidently, they hold no interest for the man. "since I was a child."  no need to get into the technicalities. "why did you fight him?" in all likelihood, it was merely a spar, but she was curious should some other meaning lurk. she wondered who had won.

Since I was a child, she answers sharply, simply. It didn't bring any further questions to his mind, maybe because Firefly didn't really care about the history between the two of them. An alternative line of thinking could've involved his own lack of memory, and as a by-product of having very little recollection of his own life pre-Rusalka, he did not feel so invested in the histories of his companions.

Her own question makes him smirk. He watches the earth when he sees a crab scrambling for cover and wonders, if he puts enough pressure down on the right rocks, will it be crushed beneath him? Rather than test this theory, he maneuvers closer to her and lets his mind wander back to the fight in question — Rank. If you want something in Rusalka, you have to fight for it. He was above me. It was simply the way of things.

But it makes him think of Rosalyn and the way the pair had fought mere days ago. He is tenacious. It wouldn't surprise me if he held his title indefinitely. Which was why he had been so agitated to see Rosalyn struck down.

she admires that. it seems simple, the correct way to gain and lose rank. she does not intend to spend much of her time at the bottom of the hierarchy, and this knowledge makes that easier. she accepts his explanation easily then, and though she wonders, she does not ask who won. Vaati is alpha, and Firefly is not. that speaks enough, cassiopeia muses. "he is." she does need to mention that his throne was stolen, then, and he is not immovable. she had promised not to ruin him. "how long has Rusalka stood?"  she has a sense that challenge strip away the kind of security offered by packs such as the sunspire, and surely, wolves could hold deep grudged should their standing be stripped away by some other.

How long has Rusalka stood? She asked; although she seemed impressed by the primal nature of the pack, she likely had her doubts and Firefly could appreciate that. He wondered how they'd survived as long as they had, all things considered. When the dragons did not snuff them out, they could've easily killed themselves while brawling amongst the ranks. By some miracle they came out stronger for all the chaos.

It took a moment for Firefly to think back to his days before Rusalka, trying to pinpoint when they'd formed. He thought of his previous home in the secret fields and inevitably, his mind threw images of Willowstrife and Deadnettle to the forefront of his mind; he banished these by looking out to sea, watching the white-caps roll. I'd say sometime in winter. I came across Caiaphas and her son, Illidan, and we banded together. It has grown steadily ever since. They were stronger now than ever before, and Firefly found himself riding a wave of pride and self-gratification despite all the turmoil he'd caused.