Sleepy Fox Hollow Run, run lost boy

tags are mostly for reference, although feel free to join if you'd like
aw, otherwise!
Set for early morning 7/16

She knew something was wrong the closer she got to the borders of the hollow. The scent of pack was all but gone; it was clear that no one called this place home anymore. Her heart sank as she made her way into the territory. What had happened here? Why had they all left? She instantly feared the worst—that her family was dead. It would certainly go along with the way things usually went for her. Had they died thinking they would see her in the afterlife? Tears threatened her eyes again, but she shook her head and pushed them away. There was no sense in getting upset over something she had no evidence to support. 

Plus, she picked up the faint scent of her mother the deeper she got into the territory, and she thought she scented @Mahler, too. She continued her search, hoping to find something that would tell her that her brothers, @Stag, @Ego, and @Tuvak were still alive. She had at least seen Mesa since leaving, but she had no idea where he was now. Maybe he had returned home? Maybe he had told them where she was? She quickly tore down that idea, though; she was sure her mother would have come to visit if she knew where she was...right? Or maybe she was too angry with her for leaving? She drew in a deep breath and tried to calm her racing mind. It would do her no good to get all worked up; she might miss a clue to where they had all gone. 

She explored for hours, finding nothing but the faint reminders that her family had once been here. But there was nothing that told her where they might be. What did she do now? She felt the loneliness creep up from the background of her mind to remind her of everything she had lost, and she didn't even try to push it away.

Curiosity got the better of her. 
The home they had settled into was suitable, and its hostility was somehow suitable to the personality of the forming pack. 
The other members of the pack were mostly males- She didn't care what Donovan did with them. But she would be damned if she wasn't the only Female that would share his den. 

She had slipped her way down to greener pastures, pushing through the pain in her side. The damned rib could take months to heal, and she was not about to become a useless lump of wolf-flesh in the meantime. 

She hadn't been exploring long when she came across a girl, small and sad looking. Remembering what Donovan had said to her as they started a new beginning here she tried her best to bring some warmth to her eyes, though the flatness of her voice stood almost in contrast to it. 
She approached quietly, no forest to slip in and out of like a shadow. Here, her dark pelt stood in contrast to the rich greens and bright colors of wildflowers. 
it was as she approached that a familiar scent hit her- pervading through the fox stink, and fresh air, and the scent of a long ago dispersed pack...was the scent of the bitch Donovan had come home reeking of. Oh this is just too good. She smirked to herself, finally within speaking distance of the little slut. 
"You look lonely. " She smiled, an almost too wide smile. She was a skilled liar, yes, but not as talented of an actress. But she was curious what it was about this weak, low-born, pathetic shewolf that caught Donovan's lust.

She wasn't her normal, witty, amiable self today, or any day recently. Normally, she would have jumped at the chance at meeting someone new, offering some clever retort to break the ice or something. But meeting strangers was low on her list right now. She wanted to search for her family without any distractions, which seemed kind of impossible even before now. 

The words seemed sympathetic, but the look on the stranger's face was quite the opposite, earning her a raised eyebrow. It was then that her scent filled the Beta's nose. She would recognize Donovan's scent anywhere and it most certainly mixed with that of the stranger. Was this a packmate? or maybe someone else he had fooled into getting close? She would keep the knowledge to herself for now just in case it was a packmate. They clearly didn't know who she was. 

She stiffened a little, straightening her tall muscular form in the presence of this stranger that smelled of someone she wasn't sure she trusted anymore. She quickly hid any lingering emotion behind a stony mask and shrugged. Do I? she asked. I'm not; I was just searching for someone, she continued. No need to give this stranger anymore insight to her condition.

The shewolf's stiffness and guarded looks drew her curiosity in, and Nemisis felt a primal urge take over her. 
She wanted to play with this girl, to tease her like a cat with some poor small creature. 
And then, she wanted to feed from her. The last time she had fed was from the trespassing bitch. She was thirsty...so, very, very thirsty. 
"Oh? Perhaps I've seen them? I don't get around much, but you never know." She answered, continuing the facade. Was she looking for Donovan? The Thought made her almost seething- the thought of some stupid unworthy slut lovesick for a wolf like Donovan. This bitch wasn't royalty. Wasn't anything. What did he see in her? 
"I'm sorry, look at me being rude. I'm Nemisis. And you are?" She wanted a name to the scent. She wanted a name to the blood she would spill.

She studied the other woman's face for a few moments before answering. She supposed it couldn't hurt to see what this stranger might know. My family used to belong to a pack here called Diaspora. It's been while since I left, and I wasn't expecting them to be gone, she explained. Have you heard of Diaspora? Do live close by? Maybe she would get lucky and find some kind of clue from this woman who smelled of Donovan. 

She dipped her head politely when the stranger offered her name. I'm Simmik, Beta of Neverwinter Forest, she offered out of habit. It was always how she introduced herself. Although she was usually trying to make connections for her pack, which she wasn't sure was the case here yet.

The shewolf named a pack, her family apparently. Long since vanished, obviously. Nemisis bit back a derisive snort- obviously it was a weak pack if they couldn't even maintain their ranks. Nemisis was glad they were gone- she didn't want any more garbage on her borders. 
"Nope. I'm afraid not. I haven't been here very long. Me and my pack just moved into the area- we unfortunately were ousted from where we were before. Difference in philosophy." But you would know that, wouldn't you, you miserable cunt? Your scent intermingled with the bitch from the beach. It was all she could do to hold herself back and keep herself from tearing out the stupid girl's throat. Instead she gave a tight lipped smile, moving just slightly closer, a coiled serpent adjusting to strike. 
"I do hope you find them though." The pleasantness oozed through her voice like the juice of a toxic berry, insidious and sweet. 
A quirk of an eyebrow at the title. Beta. Interesting. Now she was beginning to piece together what Donovan had been after and she was a little more forgiving to him- power she could respect, and always did. Sleeping your way to the top was a little unconventional to her, and she viewed it as below her, but it worked for him. 
"What a coincidence. I'm Overseer of my own pack. Essentially, the second Alpha. Perhaps you've heard of us...We call ourselves the saints?" Her tone turned icy now. The game was up. She was getting bored. "I know you know my partner.... pretty well I might add, by the way he smelled. Tell me sweetheart, do you always fuck your way to the top?" The sweet smile was replaced almost instantly by a curled lip of disgust. She raised herself to her full height, tail arched slightly, her usual immaculate physique shining in the early morning sun.

She knew by the end of her first statement that she was officially dealing with a member of Donovan's pack; there was just no way  it was a coincidence. She assumed they would all be pretty wary, if not hostile, meeting one of her pack or their allies. So she didn't quite believe the sympathetic words that followed. They just seemed too nice. 

And then she showed her true colors. Mentioning The Saints and that she was the other leader. And then she mentioned Donovan, implying that she knew the intimate details of their relationship, which struck a nerve with the warrior. Had it not been for her training, she might have lost her cool right then, the hurt of his betrayal still so fresh in her heart. And had he told her the details? Maybe this had been his plan all along and now he was sending his lackey after her instead of facing her himself? Anger burned in her chest, but she kept her expression cold and calculating. She wanted to offer a snarky response about how she didn't need ulterior motives to get guys, but then that would be letting this woman know how angry her words had made her. Instead, she offered her one, single out. Do you really want to cause more trouble for your pack so soon after moving? she asked. She now knew they had moved around here somewhere; it wouldn't be hard to figure out where. Leave peacefully, and I won't report this back to my Alpha or our allies, and I'll forget I saw you here. She wasn't unreasonable, and she probably still held some sympathy for Donovan, whether he deserved it or not. He at least seemed to want no more trouble between their packs, unless that was all a front. But she didn't think so, considering they had moved instead of fighting back. And she would rather leave here today without any wounds that needed medical attention while so far away from her pack. 

I use the rules in this thread for all fights that are not spars

Ah, so she did know. Well at least she wasn't stupid. 
The threat send Nemisis' hackles up. How DARE she? How dare this little nothing threaten her. 
Her lips pulled back, perfectly maintained (and slightly pointier and longer than that of the average wolf, a result of generations of Vampirism and ritual cannibalism) fangs. All facades discarded, it was obvious the beta was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. 
"The only thing keeping me from ripping your scrawny little throat out right now is my fucking rib is broken. I don't give a shit who it would piss off otherwise. " She snarled, bristling with barely controlled rage. "Listen and listen good, you little bitch. Donovan is mine. If I ever even sniff you around him again, I'll rip you apart like I did the last girl stupid enough to disrespect me." 
She wondered if when that stupid bitch from the beach had run her mouth to all her little lackeys, Hua had bothered to mention her. Or if word of what she had done to Praimafaya had gotten around. She took pride in the reputation she was building for herself. After all, they didn't hate her...they feared her. And that was exactly what she wanted.

Several things were unmistakable as Stag came upon a pair of wolves in his old home -- one being the pale figure was immediately familiar, and the other being the darker of the pair was postured aggressively, threateningly even.

Stag had come here on the half-hearted attempt of finding Thade -- he truly had little hope the boy would be found, but he had promised Phaedra, and he owed it to Wylla to try. Being that he was a homebody, he didn't wander much -- but he was glad when he came upon the unmistakable form of his sibling.

"Monarch!" Stag belted into the hollow, unaware his sister had taken on their dam's naming convention. He wished to rush to her and smother her with desperate hugs, but the situation was far too severe: instead, he raised his crown and set his eyes upon the bathsheba that threatened Simmik, his gaze none-too-kind. "What is going on here?"

For two days the Saints had been established in Redsand and for two days Finley had been starkly reminded she was not a mountain wolf, not by nature. Sandstone grazed at the flesh beneath her paws, and her brown hide among the warm canyons felt like a stain on the landscape. But she was a Saint, and this was the Saints’ new home, and Finley would not complain.

Still, nothing forbade leaving the territory; the scent of the second leader, Nemisis, snaking down and out southward, said as much. Apprehension tugged at Finley as she followed the trail, making no effort to hide herself; if she was an unwanted follower she would turn and leave at Nemisis’ first command. Part of Finley was still wary of the darker wolf, after all she’d heard—but the move had gone without incident, and it wasn’t in Nemisis’ best interests to attack a packmate anyway.

And yet. Aggressive voices over the hills gave Finley pause. One was Nemisis, doubtless, spitting threats and warnings: “…I’ll rip you apart like I did the last girl stupid enough to disrespect me.” Sheer, unbridled rage radiated off her bristling pelt. Something was off about her stance, but Finley, standing a short ways up the hillside, was too far away to pinpoint why. Facing Nemisis’ threat was a pale stranger, an icy female who smelled vaguely of a pack—and, oddly, not a local one. The entry of yet another, tearing into the hollow from the south, gave voice to Finley’s thoughts: “What is going on here?” But had he called the white wolf a “monarch”? The glare he offered Nemisis confirmed his alliance.

The hairs on Finley’s neck bristled. If this situation went south, Nemisis was outnumbered, faced off against a fellow leader no less. Suddenly Finley’s personal hesitations were irrelevant. She ducked her head, tensing, willing to attack if the need arose. Maybe Nemisis would rein in her fury and avoid bloodshed, and Finley would leave with her without another word. But she was not hidden, and made no effort to be; Finley wanted Nemisis—and the others—to know the Saint was not alone.

Wow, this one had a lot to learn about leading a pack, didn't she? How could they expect to settle anywhere if they continued to harass anyone they came across? Or maybe that was just this woman's way. Either way, Simmik thought it funny how prideful she was—she would be sure to use that to her advantage should this become physical. And to be spewing so much shit while injured? Not smart. 

Even with the threat and the warning away from Donovan, which she would ignore if she ever decided to forgive him, she stared at the woman with cold boredom, not willing to let her rile her up. She at least cared about her pack's reputation, and as she thought before, she wasn't interested in obtaining injuries so far from home. Of course, she would protect herself if needed. 

But then Monarch! How long had it been she had been called that? And the voice was mostly unfamiliar. The man was at her side, and she would recognize him anywhere even now that he had shed the softness of childhood. She wanted to hug him too and ask him a million questions, but that would have to wait. This nuisance needed to be dealt with first. Nemisis was just leaving, she told him, not letting any of her previous emotion show. Her fiery gaze moved from her brother to the impulsive woman. 

It was then that she saw the other wolf in the background, and her stony gaze moved to the woman. It was clear whose side she was on, which could potentially make things more difficult. But Simmik wasn't going to make the first move, she wasn't stupid, and she wanted this to end without bloodshed, especially now that her brother was involved.

He was promised a desert, and Donovan, if anything, kept his promises. 

With every step, the sand shifted beneath his feet. It was alive-- living and breathing, as he left his footprints behind him in sporadic spirals. In less than a day, they would be gone. Again, he remembers the temptation of Christ. He is cross-legged and alone in the wilderness. He is wasting away in the dark, but angels come and tend to him, each one a pinpoint glow which gets larger and larger as they approach.

Colin would follow Finley's scent just as she had followed Nemisis. Finley intrigued him-- Nemisis too. He knew even less about the volatile second-in-command, whose capacity for violence strained to escape from her skin like jumping electricity. Wherever she went, she carried a gallon container of gasoline and a match.

So he wasn't surprised when he heard a few snippets of conversation. Conversation would be a stretch. He can feel the tension from here; the air is thick with it. The pair of white wolves (almost twins, they struck him as competent and efficient) seemed to be from the same pack. They clearly weren't the trigger-happy sort, which he was thankful for.

He hangs back just within earshot, though he is tensed for potential combat. How much of himself would he be willing to give up for the Saints?

She's coiled to attack, the metaphorical venom pooling. 
just as she prepared to lunge a male appears, one the bitch is equally surprised and excited to see, apparently. Her expression sours- one wolf she could maybe handle, even to just get a few warning bites in. But two? And a broken rib? She growls in frustration. Two more appear, both from her own pack. Shes relieved, and this is a fight that would be easily won. 
It was a defining moment...she could order the attack and face the fallout, or... Her eyes narrow. 
"I'll leave. For now. Come near Donovan again and you won't be so lucky." 
She backs away, hating every moment of it, and not letting the shewolf or her boyfriend out of her sight. Her pack's wellbeing was more important. Until they were properly established, there was no point pissing off yet another pack.

This wasn't much of a reunion, what with all the wolves coming out of the woodwork and leaving Stag's fur on end. He pulled from Simmik reluctantly, spotting first Finley, and then Colin -- the former closer than the latter. Stag's soft green gaze studied each of them mutely; they appeared consorts to the lithe rakehell that postured before his sister.

He was relieved the woman's advancement abated; relieved too, to hear her announce she was leaving. If Stag had his way, this would all end without bloodshed. He was hardly half the fighter his father had been, but if they so much as harmed a hair on Monarch's head...

He kept his gaze on Nemisis in distrust, willing for her to hurry up and get gone.

The monarch presumptuously declared Nemisis about to leave, and Finley became keenly aware that she’d been noticed. Good. With her focus laser-pointed on the encounter between leaders, Finley was only barely aware of Colin’s scent drifting down the hillside. Excellent. More backup.

But despite (or perhaps because of) the additional presence, Nemisis’ growl sounded more like frustration than the precursor of attack. And then, to Finley’s shock, the volatile overseer backed down—albeit not without warning. Of even more surprise to Finley were the words Nemisis left; had the foreign monarch assaulted the Saints’ leader? But surely it would have been before the journey to the Canyons, and if either of the leads appeared out of sorts it was Nemisis.

Still, the retreat was not in full; Nemisis still had the full attention of the unfamiliar male. Finley’s own attention turned to the golden-eyed wolf. Just what was she doing here, and had she come for Donovan? The reasoning could be determined later. Finley would not let her guard down until Nemisis left in full—and even so, she wouldn’t dare turn her own back on the white wolves. The premature declaration of Nemisis’ leave suggested they might not have wanted a fight, either. Smart, if they didn’t; they were outnumbered.

Simmik easily came to the conclusion that this woman was crazy. Not even her words and her body language could agree with each other. She claimed to not be willing to attack but had been coiled to do so anyway. And unknowingly sharing the same sentiment as her brother, she also wished this to end without bloodshed—there was already enough tension between her pack and Donovan's, but mostly she didn't want her brother to get hurt over tensions he had nothing to do with. 

She was surprised to see the crazy woman finally back away and state that she was leaving; surprised but relieved. They were outnumbered now, and if things led to a fight, there was not way she could keep Stag from getting hurt. The warning away from Donovan went ignored; no one told her who she could and could not be around. Although, she had no intention of dong anything with the Saint's leader because she didn't trust him anymore. She didn't give the woman any words in return, just offered her the same cold look as she waited for her to go. 

She stayed where she was as Nemisis took her leave, gaze moving from her to her two unknown packmates. She wanted to make sure they were gone before she let her guard down to properly address her brother.

wrapping up <3

Stag held much of the same opinion. Nemisis set his skin crawling and teeth on edge.

A huge sigh of relief escaped him as she was finally gone; he glanced to his sister with a guilty grin, tail wagging as the last of them slipped off into the foothills.

There was so much to catch up on -- he couldn't believe it was really her.