Haunted Wood Free yourself from yourself

30°, currently it is snowing and set during the night. Located in Haunted Woods, borders | ooc notes: for any NW that hasn't had a thread with Ven in a while! Preferably no more than 2 other members

As night approached its twilight hours, the snow glistened while absorbing the moon's rays and mimicked the stars above as it twinkled all around the Warlord while he stalked the borders of the pack lands. Slowly he was healing, the cold of the season helped numb the pain in his knee, and keeping active aided it keeping it from feeling stiff. He could feel that soon he would be back to his usual self, preferably without any kind of permanent damage... but only time would tell. 

The Warlord's signature stink seemed to have faded with the snow, the cold stealing his musk just enough to mask him for the time being. Still, he smelled just enough of himself to not be mistaken of anyone else, but at least not from miles around as a flag. The dusting of snow upon the ground paved his way as massive prints lay in his wake, picking up layers under his pads as he padded along the borders. Ever watchful for trespassers and possibly signs of prey...

On this silent, cold snowy night, Tzila prowled the depths of her foreboding forest. It was common for her to be awake at such a late hour, given her preference towards the darkness. The gently falling snow in the eerie silence gave the forest a certain otherworldly feel. It was nights like these that she truly appreciated.

Her large, athletic figure coated in midnight was dusted with a fine sprinkling of white. Each flake that clung to her hairs glittered brilliantly, like a precious crystal. Equally pale eyes scanned ahead, in between the not so distant trees. She had gotten accustomed to the ever-present hollowness in her stomach, though it was no less irritating. She focused elsewhere, on her patrols. Avoiding the pit, for now, despite her curiosity roused by the ruckus in days prior.

News traveled fast, and especially to her ears. Vengeance had been injured in a fight with a black faced bitch, but thanks to Serem, was on the mend. And speaking of the black female... Tzila had also come to learn of her newfound title of consort. At one time she may have yearned for the spot herself, if only for status. To flaunt her power. But that had passed...she didn't want it that badly. She had seen little of the Warlord as of late, thanks to a busy schedule, largely consisting of her time during the expedition with Black Hat. She considered Vengeance a friend...an ally. No male had earned the right to call her his, and she was just fine with that. 

The unmistakable large prints embedded in the snow gave his presence away. And of course, that musk of his, toned down ever so slightly with the chill. Eyes glinting, she drew her head upright a little higher, chin slightly tucked. A knowing smirk played at her lips, while uttering a faint, short hum. She approached, materializing out of her shadows, slipping silently in step at his side. Mouthing an ear with brandished teeth, her greeting was a tightrope between gentle and deadly. "A fine night for a stroll. Too bad it isn't any more exciting." Her eyes drifted pointedly to his healed leg, then back to his face. "Though I have heard you have had more than your fill..."

Stopping for a moment by a twisted tree, the beast allowed his shoulder to rub up against its cold bark. Though most of the markings and patrolling was done by the others, he would add to it himself on nights like these. Where he had nothing better to do than to wander the borders and ensure that they were upheld properly - to his pleasure, they were. 

Among the shadows, another had approached. A face he had not seen in a while since her joining the ranks. Her voice rang familiar first, twisting his tall ears into her direction first before allowing his head to follow. As she spoke his mind wandered. She was at the top of the list for those who would earn the position of Consort first. Tzila had shown affection before time and time again, showing interest - only for her to disappear among the sea of bodies within the ranks. Slipping off with Black Hat and leaving Vengeance to find a new Consort. 

Though he was not disappointed in his choice, nor did he think Serem lacked in any traits for the position; he couldn't help but wonder what had caused the red-necked woman to turn. However his curiosity would remain unquenched, it was not interesting enough for him to question and pursue. This wound does not make me weak. He retorted sharply.

While in the past, Tzila had expressed some degree of affection towards Vengeance, at the time she hadn't known if it was out of genuine attractiveness or friendliness. And in those days, in those moments, she didn't care. Those who knew her well, knew that she was an open flirt. That she had never tied herself down to no one, and if she ever did, then she damn well wouldn't make it easy. The Shadow Queen was the sort you had to earn to call your own. She was proud in knowing she could make the men work for her favor.

She would not be just a simple breeding machine, to pump out litter after litter of hell spawn. She had goals...ambitions. None of that had changed. She was as hell bent as ever to make her mark in this pack, and the whole of Teekon. As reckless as she could appear, Tzila also understood that to bear fruition, these motives took time. She was quite content to sit back and wait, while her fine concoctions brewed to perfection. In the meantime, she utilized her time by keeping busy, by slowly forming strong connections in the pack. One member at a time.

What she was greeted with was far from the familiar welcome she knew in days past. The tips of her ears pivoted back. The edge of her nose wrinkled. Had she offended him in some way or another? Her strides shortened, just barely. But her steps grew heavier, a hint at her unappreciation to his tone. Being talked down to was not something she ever took lightly. Tzila had put up with more than enough of that from her asshat of a brother. "I never said it did." She replied cooly, twisting the words. "On the contrary, wounds make us stronger." On an individual basis, of course.

The Warlord's hot breath seeped from his lips as he looked onward at the woman, a plume of silken white tainting the air around him as his ears twisted in their signature horn-like position. Behind him, his tail slithered and coiled as he waited for her response. Her pace slowed, her expression changed. 

 You would think that I had more than my fill - that this wound would have me wishing for silence. On the contrary, wounded, angered, the Warlord was as bloodthirsty as ever. Despite the knee, despite the pain and healing, he wouldn't think twice in jumping into the fray once more - and he did. @Revui (will keep this vague until the thread is done) was one example of that. 

 I do not need pandering. He would die in the fray of battle, in the bloodshed and pain that gave him the utmost pleasure in life. To spend any days in a cushioned cave for the sake of healing disgusted him. Though Serem seemed to try to do so, a wife above all else, in her adoration for the Warlord he was certain she had forgotten what kind of man he was. 

That many of the members forgot what kind of man he was. He was not their friend or acquaintance, he was their commander and ruthless leader, and nothing less. Have you come just for that? Though they were indeed friends, or as close as one would be, Vengeance exercised his hairtrigger temper no matter who infuriated him. Tzila would be no exception.

Slowly, she smoothed out the slight crinkle at the tip of her muzzle. It would do her no good to lose her temper here, in front of him. Over time Tzila had learned great self-control and made her decisions wisely. Still, the bristly reception from Vengeance was catching her off guard. He seemed...different. Not like in the earlier days. Was there even a change at all? Perhaps she had not peeled back as many layers as she thought.

Despite the blood slowly beginning to simmer in her veins, her facade was indifferent. Unshaken. Quickly, she responded with a roll of her tongue. "No wound would ever stop your bloodlust. That I already know." She left unsaid the obvious; that in recent times his accumulation of wounds had been plenty. Not that he needed, nor ever wished for a stop to such violence. 

Lifting her chin up in the arrogant little fashion she was infamous for, Tzila's cold eyes narrowed, fixated on him out of the corner of their sockets. Deciding to put an end to the discussion of his injuries, since he seemed stingy on the topic, she answered him, her words honest. "No. I happened to be on patrol and caught your trail. I thought a little one on one was overdue."

I decided to make this after Black Hat telling him about their visit with Mal, gives him something more to talk about! It does chronologically go that way anyway in his thread log lol

I see. In order to give his leg a little bit of a rest, he sat down and put most of his weight on the untouched leg, leaving out the other half to lazily lounge while resting the wound. Thinking back to Black Hat's report, a subject came to mind to talk about on this little "one on one". Black Hat told me of both of your encounter with Neverwinter Forest. Are you aware of overstepping boundaries in offering even a trial of an alliance with a different pack without discussing it with me first? With this, he frowned. He was just as unimpressed with her involvement in that as he was with Black Hat. 

Already Black Hat had been taking too much liberty when it comes to Vengeance and Alison's business, one that a Grunt or Solider had no business in deciding; and Tzila was spending much time with him, the two almost tied to the hip.

Proving that she was comfortable in his presence, now that he was a touch less prickly, Tzila reclined on her haunches. But as always, there was just a little tension in her muscles. Should the need arise, in the flip of a switch, she could spring into action, whether offensive or defensive. The subject he proceeded to bring up prompted a slight raise of a dark brow, though he expression remained unreadable.

Her Warlord seemed less than pleased about the outcome with Neverwinter Forest, as if his toes had been stepped on. And they had. To her ears, he was wording it as if the passing of the alliance was both their faults. Her chin tipped down a fraction, the outer corners of her eyes crinkling. "I am." She stated evenly. She took a breath to indicate that she was not yet finished. "If I may." Squaring her shoulders like a solider who perfectly understood their marching orders, she spoke in a level voice. "It was Black Hat alone who spread out the details. It was he who proposed the alliance. I merely listened as a representative of Nightwalkers." She wove in the facts, the un-arguable common sense. "Ranked below him, it was not my place to state my differing opinion." Setting her jaw, her tone was firm. "Were it me alone, I would have chosen my words much more wisely." Tzila was no fool and she was attempting to make it clear that she was not influenced by another. 

He waited for excuses. Preparing to make an example of either both or one of the pair. He observed as Tzila reclined in turn, but her posture was less than relaxed, something he noted. Though it didn't mean much, he wouldn't let the detail pass either. In recent events, the pair were being more troublesome than he would have liked, perhaps her tension was well deserved unknowing even how he would react to her response. 

Even with clear annoyance spread across his face, he listened attentively as she continued her explanation. What came, had allowed his face to relax even a little. Still, he was infuriated with the two, but apparently it was yet again Black Hat who took control and orchestrated the whole thing. You spend plenty of time with him. Do you enjoy being pushed around by a mere soldier? I would have expected more from you.

Though she was right, technically her rank was below that of Black Hat's by only one rank among the lowest tier - he didn't think she would let such a thing happen on her watch. For a woman who seemed to desire so much power when they first met. Act your rank - but he thought perhaps Tzila would push herself further, to act higher than a lowly Grunt. To put a Solider in his place and earn a rank in the second tier almost as quickly. Alison and Vengeance were simply protecting their own ranks against the two, or one, who was overstepping his boundaries. It was only right for them to fight back. What happened to the other ranks was none of his business after all, provided that Nightwalkers would only gain from the shifts.

Her expression remained stony and she responded to her Warlord's first little statement without missing a beat. "While that is true, I spent time (she was careful to use past tense) with him only because I know a good opportunity when I see it. I thought his persuasive mannerisms would be useful." She drew in a slow, well timed breath. "Clearly, he was a little too sure of himself."

She wasn't finished yet. His second sentence, phrased as a question, had not flown over her head. Tzila now allowed that ever defiant glint to return to her moon lit eyes, the smooth black skin of her muzzle crinkling, though her teeth remained sheathed. "Of course not." Slowly she rose now, as if with deadly purpose, to slip into his personal bubble. The air around them crackled with intensity, though she showed no signs of attacking. Tzila was simply asserting herself. "Do not underestimate me, Vengeance. My rise to higher power is like cooking a delicate potion, like poison." She gave a dark smile. "It cannot be rushed. My time will come."

Thing were beginning to clear up. Of course, Tzila was above the likes of the gangly man, testing the waters and seeing what kind of relationships she could build within the pack - he could only hope she was indeed more careful than that and didn't follow such a cocky prick like him blindly with hollow promises. He wasn't certain what her words meant, nor did he focus on trying to clear it up by following up with more questions - instead, he would continue to watch them from afar. Whatever her motives are with him, whatever would come from it, so long as it didn't affect the pack as a whole, it didn't matter to the chocolate-coated man. 

His body tensed as she approached, the full height and size of the Warlord was shown as he squared himself against her, felling the electricity between them as she approached. The lightning caused his fur to bristle, not defensively as the wry smile across his mug would indicate otherwise, but instead, with excitement. I have never underestimated you, you were always my first choice for General, and Consort. But her appearance was too late. The positions were filled. Too busy with her own plans with the fallen Elysium and their bear problems perhaps - but that conversation was long gone. 

I simply question your process, your choices of companionship. He continued, lowering his head just enough for them to meet eye to eye.