Big Salmon Lake the queens justice

attn: @Merrick or @Caiaphas (not sure if they would have fled the scene and elected not to go here) or maybe @Praimfaya and @Dacio if they would have gone straight to the lake post phas meeting? not sure about timelines and where this might fall BUT this is post this thread AND this (an hour in between? WHAT IS TIME) so some time would have passed. other tags are for reference but will (eventually) join~

 

Hydra traveled with @Andraste at a rapid clip; there was no more time to waste. Pleased that the woman would stay to identify the wolves that sought to harm her own—that had, perhaps inadvertently, already done so—the woman was mollified, her attitude toward the white once-mother shifting to a better light as they moved. The woman, she knew, was not capable of much; she did what she was capable of, and Hydra supposed she felt grateful for that much. Without her they would not have known of these plans. It was always better to know, to be on guard and ready. 

They had the element of surprise on their side; Hydra would use this to her advantage. Wisely, the Queen kept downwind should those they sought be there already; her eyes were dark, darker still thanks to the shadows she kept to, and she prowled as a hunter would before setting themselves upon prey. 

She pictured him in her mind. How long had it been since she had last seen him? What would he be like now? It mattered not—Hydra felt she would know him anywhere, if not by sight then by scent. Hydra had told Mahler of what she would do should she see him again—but then, she had told the bastard himself. If he had killed the mercenary, he did more than test her patience—but then, he need not do that. All he needed to do was show himself and he would be the first to find the end of it. The end of everything. 

All he needed to do to survive was stay away; could he not do that? He had always been a witless beast—Andraste's judgment of his own wit she could not believe. Who with any brain would return to the body they took the life from? 

One eye. One eye. One eye. What a wise move, to take that from him. What a foolish thing to do to not take everything. Hydra had cared too much, then, for those who had shown they cared nothing for her; she knew better now. Would do better, now. Russet... had he been that shade? It had been so long she had last seen him she was not sure! 

The Queen would know him when she smelled him. 

They arrived to the lake, she and @Andraste, enshrouded by silence. The foggy atmosphere was nothing she was not used to navigating, even in battle. His voice—would she remember that? It mattered not—Andraste need only identify it, and she would do what must be done. Rob him of his life as he had robbed her sister of hers— 

Finally. 

She hoped that Vengeance had taken care of the other; if he had not finished what he had started, Hydra would ensure that she and her family saw it finished—she knew @Dirge would come soon enough, and with him perhaps either @Lyra or @Arcturus too; in this, she hardly cared for a fair fight against the cur. Life was not fair; he had taught her that terribly long lesson. A life ended, friendships forged that could not withstand the truth—well, she supposed she ought to thank him for the latter. But for the former? 

Her gaze shifted toward Andraste, her next move contingent upon what the lightningkissed sylph might hear, not a shred of mercy to be found on her stony countenance. She had come for blood; she had waited to know what the final drop of his tasted like for as long as she could remember. Perhaps then she would know peace. 

This control the bastard had was unsettling; he, possessor of her peace? 

Inhale—yes—exhale—but not for much longer.

their group headed west, arcturus on the heels of the argent’s urgent news. he thought heavily of all that transpired as they went: vercingetorix dead, the killer at large, and now purportedly lingering by the lake.

arcturus wondered of the beast responsible for dragomir’s affliction and vercingetorix’s demise. was he hideous, unshapely? or did he look like them, a deviant posed as one of their kind?

he was silent, trailing to and from the procession. arcturus had his own reservations for leaving the spear —he had no high opinion of the scarred silver or her narrative, and vercingetorix had been a man of many enemies, as evidenced by both his own admission and that of his ex-mate. now, they brought their problems to moonspear and expected the wolves of the spear to fix them? arcturus resented being put in this position — playing maid and mister-fixer to a whole host of drama he would really have preferred not to be dragged into. Isilmë and dragomir would be safe in the spire — and here they were leaving their wards vulnerable, all to go off on a goose chase in the wilds.

arcturus knew he could say little to dissuade hydra from foolish warpath (why risk going out in the open, in unknown territory?), but he made his opinions known before they set out on the trail. once he spoke his piece he broke from the group and could be seen ranging ahead and behind, a dark shape orbiting around the group as they marched. dirge would know of his intentions here — arcturus acted as tracking outrider, coming to and from with his muzzle to the ground and his eyes serving as guarding foresight for any dangers present in the road ahead.

going to try and keep my posts a bit shorter for this hmm

Once upon a time, when Andraste was Aurëwen, she had been sweet and stupid when she had first known the crone. She had been sulking and silent when her priority had not been in the hunting of her son; the ender of his sire.

Nevermore.

For the first time as well, the stricken hadn't given care to the misgivings of others. The faction of their forging — and her eyes remained hollow, arcane as she met the unending depths of Hydra's sapphires. Enshrouded within midday mists they were; but the sibyl said nor felt nothing. She only returned the locus of her gaze to the singular post where she knew Vercingetorix most certainly still lie. Without preamble— 

"I will take ze throat of whoever you do not."
She was here and had never been;
unearthed.

To the lake he went, albeit reluctantly. On careful paws, Dacio maintained a swift pace with ears and eyes alert for any sign of the fallen Vercingetorix. While he had not initially cared for the fate of a Natrona, a quiet discomfort settled in the pit of his belly as his gaze found the suspected body of water where his corpse allegedly was left.

His one purpose there was not of benefit to himself, for he was driven purely by a need to confirm or debunk the sea witch's claim. @Praimfaya thought her a liar; Dacio did not. Considering her fondness for Drageda's former Cheka, she deserved to know the truth. Regardless of his mistrust for Blackhead, it was his duty to do his best for Wanheda. He would always put himself in harm's way if it meant she didn't have to.

He lingered at the lake's edge, nostrils flared as he tested the air for the metallic tang of blood. It was difficult to see anything through the mist that hung around him, meaning that Dacio remained alert for any sign of what he suspected Blackhead might've lured him here for. An ambush was what he anticipated though, entirely alone, knew his only chance to escape such would be to flee.

On finding no immediate suggestion of Vercingetorix' grim end, Dacio carried on further along the bank - entirely unaware of those who'd come to the lake with very different intentions.

It had been at once that he and Arcturus had left the steepled slopes of Moonspear, steadfast in the wake left behind by the blistering pace that Hydra had set. Somewhere along the way they had caught up with the duo, and it was there that Dirge first laid a proper gaze on the spread of scarring along Andraste's back. It had been a focal point from thereon, unintentionally, but until they reached the low lying fog near the lake he had to admit he had never seen anything quite like it. And left there, by lightning? Fascinating, though a wonder she had even survived at all.

His wonders were dispatched easily when Arcturus had fanned out from there; he choose to do this also, though he remained firmly in earshot of his raven-haired wife. If she saw something in the mist, he wanted to be sure that he would see and hear it too... and there was a resolute part of him that found unease in the anger that consumed her at once. It was more than just maternal instinct or pride at play. It was seething, rich; it burned with a fire that radiated from her and dared to enrapture all of them if not for cooler heads prevailing—he had been one in thought with Arcturus, albeit with no protest on the premise of it doing little.

All he—and perhaps they—could hope for was that the assailants had not entirely left the area, and were not making a blazing trail up to the winding slopes. Lyra and Alya and Jarilo could hold their own and of that he was most certain, but when it boiled down to it the longer they could keep the evils of the present world at bay the better. In part to protect his own from the harsh reality of the oncoming winter and how it would drive unsavory fiends mad, and in part to protect the older charges of more trauma.

But the lake itself seemed a void. If not for the notably grim reason they were there, it would have been a tranquil locale. He heard the call of a disrupted heron, even geese skybound and off to warmer climes; but there were no signs of anything remotely of interest or worth sinking their teeth into yet. Not even a bellow from some ungulate happy for water—only silence between the ambient din of their motions and breath.

Andraste's voice picked up but he only half-heard it; his focus was drawn away towards the unseen in the haze shrouding the shore and behind it bloomed a fierce apprehension of what lurked there still. A body no doubt, but scavengers? Murderers? The uncertainties did not thrill him or incite him to hold fast to ire, and his gaze pierced through all he could manage as they closed in.

"Let's just make sure this isn't some elaborate trap first," he tacked on pointedly. If Hydra's little friends were there and had turned rogue, then there was no telling... or if those that remained had even survived at all. Perhaps now the lake would be home to more than one body.

After making sure the pups were tended to and hidden away far and deep within Moonspear's territory, Lyra took off at a determined canter behind Dirge and Arcturus. She scarcely trusted Andraste and her lilting words — this could be a trap for all they knew — and her thoughts echoed her brother's own. They should have turned the pallid away the moment she came to them for help. They had given their time and resources away once already, and now they were out here risking their necks for her peace of mind.

And yet, her description of the man which had been recounted to Lyra kept racing through the Ostrega's mind. One eye. Burnished ruff. Smells of rot. It was all too familiar. She sensed Hydra knew who Andraste had spoke of too. That boy had been nothing but trouble; they had made a mistake by taking only an eye, but they would be sure to fix that this day.

She first spotted Arcturus ranging far ahead of the group as they travelled towards the lake, and as she loped closer, the triplet moved to form a wide circle on the opposing side. Dirge's wise words carried through the unsettling silence, and her gaze swept over both him and Hydra, before narrowing as she gave Andraste a pointed glare. Her throat would be the first to be torn out if she was in on this potential ambush.

Silently, Lyra's attention then drifted over to the lake, searching the shores for a body, living or dead. A pale figure roamed there, partially obscured from the mist and at quite the distance from them still, but tensions were high and all would be regarded with suspicion, possible ally or no. Ears standing tall and eyes trained on the figure, Lyra began to move back towards the group, releasing a sound for Hydra to alert her of the stranger's presence.

Hydra knew of her brothers disapproval, and yet this was not for any other but for her family that she did this. If they could end this problem before it became larger than it already had become, she would. This day, she would not wait. Not if she could see an end to this all once and for all today. Arcturus thought it foolish, but he did not know how long this being had existed in the shadows for. How long he would continue to linger there if allowed, still harming the defenseless; was that all he was capable of, even still? 

It would not surprise her. 

Hydra heard Andraste, silent in her acceptance of the woman's intent for violence... good. There was a piece of Aurewen left in her, even if she refused to think so; Hydra was not so certain why the scarred woman so needed to change, to release, when she had committed no wrongdoing at all to the Queen's knowledge—but for when she became Andraste, and abandoned those that had depended on her. Who was this with her, then? Andraste the abandoner, or the final piece of Aurewen that still felt a mothers tether? 

An ear turned toward her mate as he spoke, and she regarded his words with a nod. Lyra was with her again, then, and she looked to her mirror image and understood. Nostrils flaring, she could sense nothing familiar in scent from here. Hydra looked toward the woman, and commanded in a low voice for her family and her to hear: stay here. Emerge only if you hear their voices; the rest will follow. You resemble your daughter; I would not have them think you are with me, she rumbled. It would ruin the element of surprise and reveal who the children could be with, if and when they determined they were not with the once-mother. 

If it were a trap, Hydra would take the brunt of it—her own tactical mind whirred. Again her eyes shifted toward Lyra, a mute invitation she knew would never be refused. Lyra hungered for that bastards blood as much as she. 

And so, Hydra drifted away from her packmates with Lyra alongside her, rounding the perimeter so they would not come from where the rest remained. The mists drifted off their person as they moved toward the Lake, and there Hydra too saw the solitary wolf Lyra had observed moments ago. There was no burnished rough upon him, though, and from here his scent was not one she recognized. The Queen moved nearer to him, but did not draw too close yet. Hydra chuffed to alert him of their presence, should he not yet have noted them there; she meant no harm for now, and her body language revealed that much. Still, she was guarded; it would be foolish to not be. 

I have heard word that I would find a murderer here, Hydra rumbled gravelly, and her gaze turned sharp and severe, have I found him? Her tail lashed behind her, waiting for recognition of these words—some semblance of surprise and fear, to see two so terribly familiar... or else some evidence of the contrary. From here, she could not yet discern whether he had one eye or two—but if this was the man she was thinking of, she felt she knew how he might react.

a trap. arcturus sampled the air, wondering.

if it was a trap, he would rip the life from the scarred argent — even if it cost him his own.

his ranging carried him around the procession, and he found little evidence of ambush, save a lone wolf which had arrived moments prior. arcturus watched him from the bank, remaining where he was as hydra and lyra approached. from his vantage he could do little to stop any assailants, but it was better, arcturus believed, to not all congest to one area. it was far more difficult to flank an enemy that had broken lines.

his ear turned to hydra’s gravelly voice, waiting the queen’s edict. the male was not what arcturus imagined a monster looked like, but perhaps that was the sign of a true monster — one that lead a deceitful life among good souls, preying on their peers.

The studies of her spine; the glares toward her reserved gall;
Andraste paid them no mind, save only the queen's devising and a vague wonderment if she knew which half of her lingered here and now — or if it was another fragment entirely. She did not know she did not know she did not know but 
"Dacio,"
spoken with the misted reticence of a whisper that would only be heard by the band still huddled with her; hollowed eyes climing with only an inkling of clarity; of rememberance of those Dragedan days and the Wocha and his sun-and-ashen brood.

Without thought she might have lurched from hiding; but the stricken remained where she lie, the weak part of her lips the only sigil of the taste of rebellion against order upon her tongue. 

Vercingetorix, fallen; son, daughter, flight'd;
"This is not his doing—"

There was no immediate sign of blood in the water or the stench of decay, yet on he carried. His nose worked tirelessly as he padded along the lake's edge, always testing, despite the uncomfortable prick between his peppered shoulders. Eyes were upon him, from somewhere among the mist.

But who?

He paused for a moment, shlifting enough to glance all around him as ears swivelled atop his crown, before he lifted a charcoal-dipped forelimb so that he may continue. Muscles tightened, however, at the announcement of another's presence, rooting him to the spot.

Guard hairs stood erect along his dorsal and he rumbed a quiet demand to the raven strangers who materialised through the haze: stay back. Pastel gaze flit between them, two identical faces that glared his way, but only one spoke out loud. "No," he answered simply, finding himself curious to know who might've delivered such information to this she-wolf, "but an enemy shared that there was a body here, one of a past comrade. I came to see for myself."

Somehow, he felt it in his best interest to be honest with his intentions there, at least until he could decipher who they were.

He ranged out from the bank the closer in they drew, long legs striding through the withering grasses. It was Lyra who spotted him first—the pale, ashen stranger—and Dirge fell in behind them as they strode out to meet him. While the women walked with haste and determination, he lagged behind and far more at ease than the reality of the situation commanded.

He listened in as she spoke then, gaze cast out to survey through the fog.

It was a crude balancing act on his part, keeping an eye on things and ensuring nothing came to harm them. While there was little doubt about him the tenacity and prowess that comprised Lyra and Hydra both, it was innate to place himself where he did. Should this wolf prove to be who they looked for and things erupt, Dirge would be there to enter the fray easily.

But it was soon that he realized this was possibly not the figure they had sought—how he wished he could recall those minute features described to him. He had no witticisms to append to their conversation, but he did not betray that he eavesdropped as much as he did watch the motions they all went through. Most of all, he wondered if the figures Andraste had spoken of lingered still... or if they had long departed the lake for better climes.

It seemed likely, though who didn't like a grand entrance?

She ignored his warning, if only because if she had wanted to do something to him she already would have... and truth be told, still would if he earned her ire. Still, with no reason to disrespect his wishes to keep a distance she did; he was within reach, but he would have his desired space. Hydra could not detect whether or not he was being dishonest, although she did find it curious he had taken the word of his enemy. 

Was he alone here, after listening to that enemy? He was either very stupid, or there was something else to it—perhaps he was not alone. Her eyes drifted beyond him, but they eventually found their way back to him. She would have known if he was not alone by now—her packmates would have detected someone else, she suspected. After a beat, Hydra drawled, who is your enemy—who was the body? I think we may share some things in common, she wondered at length, thinking to ask the wiser questions to get to the bottom of this all—she added, however: although, I do not trust my enemies. If an enemy had led him here, it was for a reason.

And, if this one was not who she sought, then perhaps he could lead her in the right direction. She had no way of knowing whether or not they were after the same wolf... but it seemed too much of a coincidence that Andraste had come to her speaking of the dead and wolves who would feed on them only to find this wolf here, looking for a corpse himself—presumably not to eat, as he was a comrade. If he were who they were looking for, Andraste would have known by now—and there would be no conversation to be had. Hydra only hoped that Andraste kept to the mists; it would not do to expose herself, to give any insight as to where her hunted children may be.

Not sure if y'all are waiting for the Hydra/Dacio conversationto progress since the others are kinda waiting in the background, so I went ahead and posted. Gimme a nudge if you'd rather I waited my turn.  :)

"The black-headed sea witch," he answered at once, "she said I would find Vercingetorix here."

Dacio eyed the dark duo, eager to know if they'd gained different information from another source, his pastel green gaze drifting from one dark face to the other. He didn't trust them, didn't know them, and was certain that this mistrust would be mutual.

Still, there was some small glimmer of hope here. Perhaps, the sterling yearling mused, they could help each other.

The comment regarding believing his enemies brought forth a charcoal lobe atop his crown. He blinked at Hydra, wondering if she knew what the seasoned coywolf was capable of. "I don't either," Dacio countered, and carried on in his own defence: "but she made attempt on his life once before. I'd believe her capable of doing so again." Did she have assistance? Probably. He fancied that Caiaphas could be manipulative that way, using others to her advantage. How else could she have managed to gain so many followers to rise against Drageda? "She placed blame on the wolves of Easthollow."

He did not know this pack, but Praimfaya was curious to learn more of them since the siren's bold accusation. The whole thing made him feel uncomfortable. It was against everything he'd been taught to avenge natrona, but Dacio knew he'd have to swallow his pride. He and @Opalia had made a deal with their aspiring Wanheda that they would be of service to her if she would return the favour and bring war to Rusalka. Therefore, if she wished to seek revenge for Vercingetorix' death, then Dacio would see it through on her behalf.

Also posting to keep the conversation moving here! Same as Dacio, ping me if you want a post in and for me to remove mine <3

 

Black-headed sea witch. So, she had seen Dacio; had been through this area, at some point or another. The window was narrowing for the wretch; Hydra would hunt her down as she hunted her children. If luck was on her side, she would eliminate her before she had the chance to find where they were at all. Fortune favored the bold, and she was bold—and hungry for her blood. 

We look for the same woman, she informed, kill her the next time you see her, assuming I do not find her first, a single canine was flashed as she wrinkled her muzzle to glance toward her mirror image. Her gaze shifted back to Dacio, and Hydra shook her head; Andraste had told her otherwise. No, evidently, it was some boy who slay him—with one eye, and a burnished ruff, she shared her intelligence with him, finding no harm in that. Let them narrow it down in this Wilderness, so they could end whatever malignant beings lingered sooner rather than later. Hydra shifted her weight, saying, all this was overheard in a conversation between our sea witch and the cyclops. An ally from the Nightwalkers attacked them but an hour or so ago, though before that, the two were headed here, Hydra had used her powers of deduction to understand that the giant man Andraste had seen was Vengeance. For whatever reason he had attacked; three wolves, now, with one common enemy.

Her ears pressed forward. I intend to seek him out. He may have their scent upon him still, she could only hope. Evidently they would not be coming here; they had been deterred. If she could catch their trail, she had hope yet of ending at least one of them this evening.

This stranger knew of the wench he spoke of, and encouraged that he kill her should he locate her again. Dacio twitched a whisker, thoughtful; he did not share his reasons behind withholding an attack on Blackhead. It would've been so easy to slay her, he felt, considering her fragile state - but he had a far more precious life to consider now. He didn't know nearly enough fresh information on the coywolf's position to believe Roangeda would be safe from retaliation.

It was interesting to learn that the wolves of Easthollow were allegedly innocent, though he maintained some level of suspicion. Why had Caiaphas saw fit to lie about their involvement? She probably sought to manipulate them into hastily sending warriors into battle to seek revenge for Vercingetorix' death, thus he wondered what they did to wrong her.

A boy with one eye and a burnished ruff. A vague description, but one he would deliver to Praimfaya upon his return. One he would look for, everywhere he would go in future.

He was curious to know why these she-wolves sought those who'd slain Vercingetorix, who he may have been to them to warrant such a gesture. Dacio, unsure if the former Cheka deserved to have others make a martyr of him after his abandonment of Drageda, held his tongue on the matter. 

"We crossed paths with the coywolf just South of here," he shared, despite the uncomfortable niggle at the back of his mind that Caiaphas' life was his to take when the timing was right. "What of Aure, and her children? Blackhead appeared to be hunting for Verx' pale-furred daughter. My young charge was raised alongside those cubs, and we are concerned they are in danger."

A shudder then, one that trailed the length of his spine. What valuable information might Praimfaya have shared with the sea witch had he not been nearby? Would she have made attempt on her life, to symbolise her bitter hatred for all things Drageda? A muscle in his jaw tensed at the thought; Dacio would not let his ward out of his sight until Rusalka's leader was appropriately dealt with.

So, the pale furred fellow had come to find Vercingtorix's body then. It was an interesting turn to their tale, though admittedly Dirge did not know what to make of the conversation that unfolded thereafter. One thing was decidedly clear—vengeance was to be had. While he doubted that Easthollow had anything to do with it, it was taken into consideration all the same.

His gaze lingered on a distance point beyond them, but the mists offered nothing more.

When the topic of children was broached, Dirge's tongue did not remain still.

"They're somewhere safe," was his answer, his gaze coming round to Dacio briefly. "But the blackheaded witch would be right in saying that their father's body is here. His children found it." Where exactly it was, Dirge hadn't fully located... nor did he want to now. The weather hadn't been exactly fair and well, there was no telling what had become of it if the lake hadn't swollen and swallowed it whole by then.

much of this was news to arcturus, who listened to each speaker with ears cupped. he found he had nowhere near enough information to derive any conclusions -- and he still was deeply bothered by the loss of vercingetorix. why had he been slain -- and more troubling to arcturus yet, what trouble did this family bring to darken his family's doorstep?

his gaze -- as did his blame -- slid involuntarily to the silver argent. he found it impossible to measure the intentions of an enemy he had no understanding or knowledge of, and this in turn made him speak against a crowd he otherwise would have much preferred being silent in. "who is she?" the mountaineer found himself repeating his sister's query -- but he wanted more than just a descriptor. he wanted motives, the whys -- why had she decided to tell an alleged enemy of hers that his comrade was nearby?

little of it added up. "why is she your enemy? why would she tell you anything?"

(( I haven't figured out how to whisper or anything OOC here, so this is the best I got right now. Figured I'd try to take up the offer to join Moonspear from when I joined last week or so? If that's able to be done in this thread at all. I apologize in advance if my coming in was inappropriate ;w; ))



Nyra had traveled a distance by now, and found herself in the territory of Moonspear. She caught the scent of many wolves around, but followed the more recent trail that lead to where Hydra, Dirge and a few others were at this time.
The large, snowy lady watched from a spot in the shadows, tilting her head. Conversation of a murder, maybe more than one? 
And then she sneezed - loudly. 
Nyra froze, eyes and body unmoving as the sound of her sneeze came out so sharply. 
"Shit." Nyra hissed under her breath, sighing, as she assumed they would have heard her, and she made her face clear to see, ears flat to her head, every other visual part of her body submissive and hopefully not aggressive-looking in detail.

It's fine with me! Fortunately she's not trespassing on MSP territory, but it would make sense for her to smell MSP to some degree! It likely won't be the most conventional joining thread but we can see where it goes <3!!!!

 

Dacio could have Caiaphas; Hydra was after the wolf she presumed to be Titmouse. Whether he was or was not, evidently this one-eyed bastard was threatening one of their one. It might very well be the last thing he ever did, should he find himself in her clutches. The stranger went on to speak of the children, and Hydra would have acted none-the-wiser if not for her mate emerging from the mists to speak. 

And with a sigh, Hydra drawled: it is best to look no further into them than you already have. You might unwittingly lead her to them on your own search, her tone brooking no room for argument here; Moonspear would speak no more on those children. Of course he could do what he wished, but Hydra felt there was a reason the woman was not here. She could very well be several steps ahead of him...

She could not help but appreciate the cleverness of the woman, if this was the case. And remember herself enough to recognize that if she was an enemy, the woman was not dim. She only hoped Andraste would remain in the shadows; as for her, Hydra said nothing. If eventually Aurewen wished to find him, she was welcome to it... but Hydra only hoped she left her childrens whereabouts out of the conversation. Hydra willed her to leave, but could not ask without betraying her presence here... perhaps she might simply know to, realizing what was at stake.

Hydra was aware, then, mere seconds later, that she—blackface—might even be here now. Dirge's emergence had revealed more of their cards, but she would see here and now she was outnumbered. She looked to her mate to encourage one last look-around when a sneeze sounded; licking her chops, Hydra spun on her heel and was quick to move in long-legged strides toward the sound of the offender, violence personified as she closed the space left between them with several galloping bounds. 

What was found, though, was not blackface but a woman all in white—Hydra bristled, no less on guard and ready to attack than she was seconds ago even still. Who are you, Hydra snarled, why do you hide in the shadows? Hydra did not ask, but hoped Dacio had the sense to come nearer and investigate her; Hydra had no idea what blackface smelled like, but he did. Was this an ally of hers?

(( Thank you!!! <3 )[ooc] 

) 

---

Nyra nearly reeled backward, pressing her ears completely to her head as she stammered "M-my name is Nyra, I-I've traveled a great distance to get here. The last pack I visited was Easthollow, and I passed Greyback's test there, but he could not acc-e-p-pt me. I h-have come seeking refuge, if any can be given. I'm an able hunter, but aside from prey, I have not killed another wolf before, and I don't plan to now. I mean no threat to you miss, nor do I intend any threat to your fellow pack members!!" Nyra word-vomited, nervous, for she hadn't been approached with quite this much guard and hostility before. Fiery as Nyra was, she wasn't always hard to intimidate. 
Taking a few deep breaths, the large white lady hesitantly met the raven-furred mistress' eyes, in an earnest attempt to show her honesty.[/ooc]

The harpy, the hellion; they would not arrive.
The two heads of hydra speak to her former kru, she understands, now;
but nevertheless, it would do her no good in lingering here;
nevermind that eyes of the enemy were not now upon them.

No—
for the sake of her brood, however further they might perhaps come to loathe her, Andraste must leave must leave must leave and
so she does; incensed by the queen's reasoning and her own; without airs of a personal gain or hoarding of this time spent on a goosechase.

No—
she melts through the mists with only a murmur to those who yet remain hunkered away with her,
and sleuths back to her Weald, as if she had ne'er accompanied the band at all. Her wolves would never see her again, were she to stay;
be they of her blood and bone, or now bound.

pass me by here on out <3

Another materialised from among the mist, a brute who took it upon himself to answer Dacio's question regarding what remained of Vercingetorix' family. A charcoal ear cupped forward toward him, thirsty for knowledge that might ease his Worlida's worries. He prepared to part jaws, to further ask of their location so Praimfaya might see them with her own eyes, but the raven wolfess was swift to speak up before he could. Pastel eyes found her dark features and he acknowledged her suggestion with a respectful dip of his speckled snout.

He would heed that warning, of course, but his loyalties lay with his young ward. If the aspiring commander still wished to go to Kaistleoki, who was he to challenge her? Dacio figured he would want to know too, should he find himself in such a position.

Another came, his concerns remaining on the young warrior's knowledge of Blackhead. "She leads a pack on the coast, they call themselves Rusalka," he began, "I grew up on the cliffs there, born to Drageda who inhabited them. I was shy of a year old when our Heda fell, when Verx and the others abandoned us, when the crone and her dogs forced us to leave our home." Dacio failed to share the finer details: how Thuringwethil had ended her own life, how Drageda had tried and failed to force Rusalka into submission by taking one of their own captive. He supposed they didn't matter. "I do not know why she told me anything, but she shared that Vercingetorix apparently joined Rusalka for a time after Drageda dispersed. Said that they both came here to seek revenge on Easthollow for something they'd done. I don't know if there's truth in that, but I believe she hoped for us to turn on them to avenge Verx."

But his kind did not avenge natrona - they killed them on sight. If Dacio and his sister were to slay Caiaphas and her kin, it would sure as hell not be on Vercingetorix' behalf.

A noise then, one that lifted the ashen Klikalida's dark hackles as his new acquaintainces veered toward the sound. He was quick on Hydra's heels as she turned away to intercept, happending across a pale female that he did not recognise. Dacio eyed her, suspicious as she stammered a response, and he moved to circle around her in a loose ring. Nyra, she said her name was, and nostrils flared to inhale the scent of her. He detected nothing of Rusalka on her hide.

She mentioned Easthollow, how tthey'd refused to allow her a place among them. Why? If she'd passed their "test", what was it they noticed that prevented her from claiming a rank? Dacio paused a comfortable distance from her, lingering like a coiled snake at her flank should his fangs need to find purchase on her flesh. He had not entirely ruled out the possibility of Blackhead having laid a trap there, and this wolfess could easily be a pawn in her game.

Instead of a segue into something more along their lines of Drageda and how it reminded him of Roangeda, Dirge found that their little gathering party was interrupted. A pale specter did appear, but it was not Andraste as he had previously thought who joined them. A foreigner in their midsts, one who was subjected to the whirl and turn of Hydra and the swift close in by Dacio. It was Dirge who stayed still once again, only spinning to face the happening without the fanfare or teeth, his hackles prickling the only thing to betray his nonchalance.

A short series of stammering words spilled out of the she-wolf's mouth then—she had been brazen enough to approach all of them, but now? Nervous was definitely one way to describe it, but he thought her weak-kneed and fearful. Was she a spy? Easthollow was fresh off her lips and his gaze drifted quick to Dacio, but his senses told him otherwise. The commentary of a test pulled at him too—perhaps he'd pick @Nikai's brain about that another time.

Rendered silent by the ongoing, he simply observed, but not without looking to Arcturus dumbfounded.

What a strange, strange series of events their life had become.

tag's for visibility; also hi, nyra!

arcturus found the more he learned the less he was certain of. there were too many inconsistencies to rack; why was a wolf by the coast concerned with a pack inland, why was she here, why did she disclose the seeming truth to an enemy? arcturus could think of many reasons but without knowing the woman, did not know which was accurate. so she was a leader and they were to kill her? he could not imagine that would make them buddy-buddy with her friends back home — if she was a leader of a pack, did they want to risk another enemy at their doorstep?

god, how much drama had vercingetorix really been in? none of it made any sense.

speaking of a lack of sense, arcturus found his spine rifling with raised hairs as a new wolf approached — and odds of odds, hailed from easthollow. would wonders never cease? and she wanted to join moonspear? like right now in this ridiculous moment?

somewhere in the back of arcturus’ head those piercing kill-bill sirens rang their klaxon alarm: trap, trap, it’s a TRAP! arcturus was positively boggled— absolutely boggled. his ears couldn’t make up their mind on where to go — pinned out of annoyance, perked out of aggression, to the side out of stress? the top of his head looked like a sonar panel on crack as he tried unsuccessfully to process this new development. arcturus.exe has stopped working. all the while he shared an incredulous glance with dirge — was this all really real, bruh?

Just a note @Nyra, Hydra takes looking her in the eye as a challenge due to her attitude toward dominance, and sees it as a physical challenge so if Nyra does not look away/submit Hydra will likely attack! Other play wolves are more casual about eye-contact so I get the confusion there, but Hydra herself is very strict about body language/eye contact! <3 <3 <3 

 

The truth of it was, hearing the story of Caiaphas and her origins she could understand driving away competitors. The telling of her previous subordinate did the man no favors, either—who was he, really? Had he not been found dead Hydra would have believed him, then, to have abandoned his children as he had abandoned his first pack... as Dacio had said in any case. It was all relatively difficult to follow, but she could not find much fault with Caiaphas in that the mercenary had been an old enemy of hers; did Hydra not hunt her own enemies the very same? Besides, it appeared she had not killed them. 

The problem rest in her hunting children innocent of their fathers crimes, as it stood. Though Hydra also saw the sense in it as she had considered, unbeknownst to all, doing the very same for her fathers children that very well may be out there if natural disaster had not come against them to help them find their early grave. Innocent, but they carried the blood of a wolf that had lied to her and one of the best men she knew; what sort of wolf would that grow to be? Detestable and foul, she had already concluded. 

But while they were children they were safe. Hydra was not the sort to cull those that could not defend themselves. She would not save them either, but she would not kill them if she were to see them. As loathsome as she could be, Hydra could not ever do so low a thing—though she felt she had enough reason to. 

Easthollow this woman had said, test. Greyback was not a name she yet knew, not that she could recall... but in this moment, all she could think of was that this pale woman before her could be a spy. She had heard the word 'Easthollow' and employed it now, Hydra fashioned within her mind—too convenient, her story. Why pass a test and be shown the door? This did not make sense to Hydra either—

Perhaps the other meant well in their next action. But Hydra pressed forward, crowding the other and letting a sound far more fearsome than thunder roll from the stormcloud of her parted lips; were Andraste still here, she would see at last her strikes were far more terrible and relentless than lightning—for she would not cease until death came, in this instance for more reason than one. The challenge she saw, and the very real potential that this was an enemy in sheeps clothing. 

Submit now, her posture demanded, the aura of the strength she possessed and would unleash radiating from her person, or die. To look away, to melt into the earth, to reveal her belly—all this Hydra would accept as apology should she smell the truth of Nyra's apology upon her. Dacio did not appear to smell Caiaphas on her, which for now worked in the others favor enough that Hydra did not move against her then and there.