Ravensblood Forest everything that kills me makes me feel alive

'Don't go to Ravensblood forest' was of course something that the aspiring scout didn't take to heart. As a matter of fact, she'd never even considered going to this dumb ole' forest until just when she heard that news. It only made her all the more curious, and in the end she couldn't help herself. She had to go check it out for herself.

Spica told only @Syrma where she'd go (and invited her sibling along, should she be interested, of course -- an open invitation, with just a liiitle bit of wot, are you scared you chicken-ing if Syrma would decline) and set out early in the morning towards the forest. She hadn't visited it before, but she had seen it when she had climbed the nearby Plateau and knew it wasn't too far off from their lands. She also knew that it was dangerous and these Saints of the Dying Light were apparently pretty bad. But Spica liked to figure things out for herself and she thrived on danger (even if, y'know, she hadn't actually known real, proper danger in her life). She vividly remembered the angry wolf in the Glen who thought the world belonged to her, and there was something about the raising of your heartbeat and the thrill of not knowing whether you might get violently chased that spoke to Spica.

Besides, she was pretty arrogantly confident about her dashing skills, so Spica figured she could always just, y'know, run away.

As she approached the forest, Spica stayed at its outskirts. She might be adventurous and looking for a thrill, but she definitely wasn't an idiot. She sniffed the outskirts of the woods, trying to figure out if she could decipher pack scents -- from these Saints, maybe? -- or anything else out of the ordinary.

At the borders/outskirts.

Gerra, if you want to join in with Syrma, feel free to, but I left it open whether or not Syrma had come along :)

He never wandered very far from @Tuvaq. They had been holed up somewhere near the strange forest (his friend had told him about it) for a few days now, and occasionally each boy had gone off on their own to explore. 

This morning, Acheron had done so, mostly looking for breakfast. His search had quickly turned into tracking his sister, though. What was she doing all the way out here? Was she alone? Regardless of the tension that always seemed to be between him and his sisters, he wasnt going to let her wander around on her own.

He spotted her on the edge of the forest. At least she had enough caution not to trespass. Spica, he called once he was close enough. What are you doing out here? Acheron asked. He knew nothing of the tension between this pack and his family's pack, but he didn't think his sister should be dancing around the borders of some pack she didn't know. That's how you got hurt.

Syrma was coming too, but let Spica forge ahead this time while she milled about a bit. She wanted to see the forest for herself as well, both because it sounded good to get out, but because she had never been and wondered what it might be like--with or without the presence of a pack that could be made of dangerous folk. Would it be a different woodlot than the one that accompanied the river? What kind of greenery might inhabit the area within too? Either way, she was curious so she was on her way, plucking along at a neat little trot, taking in the sights and scents that came to her, both high and low.

Eventually she did catch up to her twin, but it was at about the same time as Acheron came into view nearby. That hurried her up, and she bounded to Spica's side and settled about there, panting softly. Since she hadn't caught his question that she could have easily aimed right back at him, she just let her own "greeting" come as it occurred to her: Jeez, you're out here?? she groaned at him, obviously terribly thrilled to find the fun police before they even made it all that far. Syrma gave some sniffs in his direction, wondering if he knew anything about the supposed group here, but he just smelled like all sorts of other weird stuff instead.

Room for a sulky recruit? :3c +

They were leaving. They were leaving Ravensblood Forest and had a whopping two days to prepare. Donovan’s words weighed heavily on Finley’s shoulders as she trekked through the woods that morning, taking extra time to admire the towering sequoias and listen for the birds above. She should have been unphased, after months of wandering on her own, but this time was different. It wasn’t voluntary, not quite. They didn’t stand a chance against the surrounding packs. And of course it’d be stupid for a whole three wolves to face off against several others, it all left a sour taste in Finley’s mouth that not even sap could cure.

Muffled voices snapped her out of her daze. Without thinking Finley had wandered back southward, the same edge of the woods where she’d arrived mere days ago—and she wasn’t alone. She paused, forcing territorial urges down; this wasn’t their land to claim anymore. There were multiple wolves at the forest’s edge; yearlings, give or take. They smelled in part of a pack, the one Finley had rounded with a wide berth on her travels prior. But surely wolves this young weren’t among the leaders who’d confronted Donovan. What the hell were they here for?

The fluttering of a raven above announced her presence. Damn it. She was too comfortable, losing her caution. If these wolves went on the offense she’d be outnumbered. And so Finley stood, head high in renewed alert, ready to dart at the slightest altercation but too stubborn to leave without. Fleeing would wound what pride she had left. Which was unacceptable.

It was all pretty exciting to be out here when she was technically told not to. But she was an adult, and she could do what she wanted, and she definitely didn't need to listen to mom and definitely-definitely not to Emrik. Spica sniffed the borders, feeling tense knowing that the wolves in this pack were ~ dangerous ~ apparently, but also super curious and hoping to meet at least one of them.

When she heard a voice, Spica startled for a moment, her heart skipping a beat, but soon she realised that it was her.. brother?? What the actual fuck. Syrma showed up just in that moment, before Spica could scold Acheron for scaring her, which maybe saved some face as she now no longer felt like admitting he'd scared her at all. Do you live here?! Spica said, blinking in surprise. But no, it sounded like a silly idea the more she thought of it. Nah, what a dumb thought -- you're too stuffy for that. Acheron was way too "good boy" to live in a pack of ~ dangerous rebels ~.

Suddenly Spica was distracted by a raven's flutters and she looked up, then down to see another wolf. Shit! she called out in surprise. Uh.. Hi? Spica had thought a lot about what it would be like to meet a wolf from his dangerous pack, but she hadn't really thought a lot about what she would say. She had kinda pictured this whole thing to go a bit... smoother? Different?

She certainly hadn't pictured Acheron to be there.

yay, thanks y'all for joining :D

Syrma showed up just as he was asking Spica what she was doing out here, and he assumed she knew his words were directed at her too. Of course his question went unanswered; his sister was more interested in figuring out why he was there. She was right, though, his morals definitely didn't quite line up with the wolves that once claimed this area, although he knew nothing of them. I don't live anywhere really; I've just been exploring with my—friend, he said to both of them, stumbling strangely over the last word because, well, he didn't really know. Tuvaq was more than a friend, but he wasn't really sure how to explain it even to himself, so he definitely wasn't interested in explaining it to his sisters. 

The flapping of wings pulled his attention to the sky; he thought it might be his raven—the one he had befriended and now he just assumed she was his companion. She did like to show up randomly. But he realized right away that bird was not his. It was then that he saw the stranger, and he stiffened and stepped forward, angling his body some so that he could block his sisters from an attack if this wolf wasn't friendly. 

We're not looking for any trouble, he told her. We're just out exploring. Hopefully this stranger was friendly and just curious about them.

Syrma pinned Acheron with a skeptical look, and his answer made pretty good sense for him--though, she wondered how he could not live anywhere, and of course that bit about a friend really narrowed her eyes. So who's your friend? she asked right away, recognizing maybe some potential weakness there thanks to him almost nearly tripping over the word. That had made her zoom right in on it, definitely suspicious. Plus, there were a whole slew of other things they could drill him on..

Then, after the flapping of wings sounded from nearby, she was distracted from drilling their brother immediately--on a whole new kind of alert, reminded suddenly of where they were and what else could be lurking here besides their impromptu sibling reunion.

This twin gave a little pivot towards the stranger of a wolf who peered their way, head up and otherwise quiet. Spica offered greeting, Acheron explained they weren't here for trouble. Syrma would toss her two cents, deciding with what jumped to the forefront of her thoughts: Hey! Do you live here? Same as what they had thrown at their brother first and foremost.

Prior to the raven’s takeoff, conversation between the strangers revealed to Finley that, firstly, there were three; second, they seemed familiar enough to swap banter despite two not knowing what one, the male, was up to; and third… wait, why was the male’s location up for discussion? Were they not all of the same pack? Yet Finley was certain that some common denominator underlie their scents—

The blasted bird startled them all, drawing a surprised greeting from the two females and a defense from the male. His response Finley dubbed the smartest of three; they should be no more inclined to trust her than she was to them. But the fact remained that her presence had been noted, and for the time being they seemed innocuous enough. To stay in the shadows would stir further suspicion.

Finley revealed herself hesitantly, stepping forward with tail lowered (if stiff) to indicate no malicious intent. With a cordial dip of her head she scanned the trio, noting the females’ visual similarities and that all their cheeks sported a fawnlike stippling. Were they related?

But they’d spoken first, and Finley’s curiosities could come later. “Hello,” she offered first to all three, with the natural flow of a speaker who was used to casual greetings (which was to say, barely any). Turning to the last female to speak, Finley stalled with a small shrug. “You could say that.” Would it be wise to reveal to potential enemies the details of the move? Better to gauge what they knew before offering reveals of her own. Back to the group, with a particular eye for the first female who seemed to have started this venture, Finley added, “What brings you all here?” Curiosity, dashed with suspicion, shaded her tone more than any aggression.

Acheron was only here to be annoying, of course. Typical that he'd show up at the worst moments and tell them off on what they did even now. Yeah, who! she repeated after her sister's inquiry, too curious not to fall in line with her twin.

Acheron of course immediately apologised for them being here and said they wanted no trouble, while the other wolf wasn't even giving them any to begin with. Syrma asked if they lived here and Spica added: Sorry about our dumb brother. She didn't mean to make Acheron look bad, but it was out before she realised. Anyway, the dangerous pack wolf seemed pretty alright for someone from a dangerous pack.

I'm Spica, and this is my sister -- She left space here for Syrma to say her name, too. Then she added: We are here for... Diplomacy. Yeah. We were just curious to meet some of our sorta-neighbors. So, uh, hi! Who are you? Spica smiled in a friendly manner, her body language neutral but exuding the curiosity her words held too.

sorry for holding things up

Of course his sisters noticed the hint of weirdness in his voice and locked on to it. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. He's my friend and that's all you need to know, he told them, his tone suggesting that he wasn't willing to say anymore about the subject. 

So it was a good thing they had something to change their focus from him and what he had been doing with himself since he left. Neither twin seemed appropriately suspicious of this stranger, which he found irritating and alarming. They just started asking questions as if she were a friend or something. The woman's answer to Syrma's question was vague. Acheron was going to press her for more info, but then Spica was speaking. She apologized for him, which earned her a dirty look. At her mention of diplomacy, he wanted to laugh, but he kept his cool; the stranger didn't need to know that his sister knew nothing about being diplomatic. 

But, he was interested to see what the woman's answers would be now, so he watched her suspiciously as he waited, not offering his own name in the meantime.

This place wasn't so bad. Sure, the lady he'd run into was weird, and the sap was strange, but it wasn't anything scary or whatever. But he hadn't expected Acheron to have wandered into it. Usually it was just he that was the idiot in these situations. And it seemed his companion was not alone, either - there were others here, all female, and two that bore a resemblance to his friend. Same spots and all. That was pretty cool - a family staple, perhaps?

He'd heard the tail end of the conversation as he approached, coming to a stop near Acheron. Just close enough that the edges of his blond guard hairs brushed against the freckled boy's, but not close enough to be too embarrassing. Not in front of what could be his family. 

"I'm Tuvaq," he greeted, having heard the one that looked different ask their names. He was not as on guard as Acheron - names were free to give. "Are you talking about me?" he directed at his companion then, a small smirk on his maw.

Acheron didn't give them any more to know, and she gave him a narrowed-eye look that told him she did not buy it. Thankfully, it was the stranger that captured more of her focus, so he was lucky then, and it was easy enough to forget a bit about him for a beat as her Spica spoke. And I'm Syrma, she supplied when given the appropriate pause, and nodded along because yes! Diplomacy stuff, they were just checking in on the neighbors and all, not looking to stick their nose in any mischief or anything. Juuust curious! She was quick to back her sister up wholly. Yeah, and we were just exploring a bit, she tacked on for good measure, and some extra padding on their business.

The stranger wasn't raising any terrible alarms so far. She seemed reserved, but Syrma was not yet the greatest judge of it. Maybe she had something to hide! That crossed her mind, but mostly, it was too soon to tell. Without any obvious aggression to be seen, she was content to keep to their nosy-looking-neutrality.

Then, someone else appeared which made her perk anew. He sidled right up to Acheron, and she pinned her squinty eyes back on him again, though not before another glance to Stranger #1 before she caught Tuvaq's little smirk. Ohh, this got a little different. She edged a small side-step closer to her twin with a wiggly look at her, and though she really wanted to launch the full brunt of the interrogation his way, since she assumed this was the fancy friend he was all tight-lipped about, something told her not to give it all away in front of their neighborly sort first--who they still knew almost nothing about! So, she did her best to listen there, but was highly suspect of this whole situation in a few different ways.

“Sorry about our dumb brother”—so they were family, the three of them. Finley paid little mind to the apology, and if anything it heightened her impression of the male as the brains of the group; his wariness was hardly dumb. She barely had time to turn Spica’s words over in her mind before the sister, Syrma, spoke; their brother offered nothing but silent stares. Finley offered the same in turn, allowing the sisters to exhaust their introductions long before considering her own.

Adding to the fray, no sooner had the brother deflected inquiry about his “friend,” a new stranger made himself known. Intrigued glances from one of the sisters (Syrma? Spica? Finley had no eye for the minute differences, if any, between the hyper lookalikes) suggested Tuvaq’s entrance surprised them just as much. Finley eyed the males with her own suspicion. Something was not right. Why had the brother left, and why the caginess about Tuvaq?

Of peak concern, however, was the fact that this made not three but four outsiders at the border of Ravensblood. Finley hardly entertained the idea of “diplomacy;” Spica’s admitted curiosity had contradicted the feeble excuse on its heel. This was a pup’s outing, and sheer circumstance had thrown the remaining three into it. At least the sisters, if their word could be taken at face value (which Finley was only slightly inclined to do), meant no harm. Brother and Tuvaq were a different story.

If anyone spoke after the sister’s clarification of exploration, Finley was liable to miss it. Getting a read on one stranger could be difficult; two, doable if they worked in tandem; three, pushing it; four, forget it. It culminated in the faint skull-thumping protest of an early headache. “You are all very close to the border,” she grumbled, maybe interrupting maybe illegibly under her breath it didn’t really matter in the moment—a fleeting complaint more than anything.

A dumb vocalization, at that—she’d already lost by numbers alone. Provocation was… unwise. Finley waited for what might have been a gap in the conversation (or just someone finishing their sentence; it was mush in her head, still) and said, at a regular volume, “Finley,” clearing her throat, “Saints of the Dying Light.” Had she been asked a question? “Where are you from?” The question was for anyone, but Finley’s focus finally settled on the brother and Tuvaq once more. She suspected their answers would be of interest to everyone involved. Maybe it’d keep the focus off herself, and the border she was ill-equipped to defend.

Ooooh, mysterious, Spica said with a roll of her eyes as Acheron said he was his 'friend' and that was all they needed to know. Just a little too loud and just before the friend arrived Spica said, What, is he your boyfriend or something? She didn't mean this seriously, because the thought of two males dating was totally foreign to her, honestly. Any shyness she might've felt around saying this so loudly in front of said friend was transferred into an outgoing excited smirk to see her curiosity sated as the wolf in question arrived.

The Saints-wolf meanwhile grumbled they were close to the borders, but Spica had learned that being close to a border wasn't the same as being over it so she pretty much just ignored that. Details, details. Then a name was shared -- Finley -- and she confirmed that indeed, she was part of this new pack.

Honestly, this meet-up was a lot less aggressive than Spica had imagined considering they were sooo warned about this pack and whatnot. Finley seemed totally harmless, apart from a little grumpy. Spica blamed the latter mostly on Acheron and his (boy)friend who had shown up unannounced just like that.

She asked where they were from, and Spica answered, before anyone could say anything, We're from Moonspear. Because there was no way in hell she'd get in trouble for exploring beyond where they were allowed, so she decided to use the name of the only other pack she knew (and as a happy coincidence, their sort-of enemies anyway). She looked over her shoulder at Acheron with a sly smirk that she made sure Finley couldn't see to emphasise how clever she was being.

When Spica asked if Tuvaq was his boyfriend, his cheeks burned, and he was glad no one would be able to see his actual reaction to that question. Not that he cared if anyone knew, but he wasn't exactly sure on the details of whatever was going on between him and his friend, and to have her just blatantly ask, even if teasing, kind of pulled forward some feelings he didn't entirely understand. 

As if summoned by their conversation, Tuvaq appeared at his side. Some of the tension in Acheron's muscles visibly eased—a conditioned reaction to the other boy's presence. But he soon remembered they were in the presence of a stranger he didn't necessarily trust and he tensed once more, but not before offering Tuvaq a small smile in greeting and answering his question with: Um, yeah, they were asking who my friend was. He was happy to see his friend but not happy that he was here in a potentially dangerous situation—one caused by his sisters' infuriating need to stick their noses where they don't belong and just do whatever they wanted no matter the possible consequences. 

Syrma stated they were just exploring, which was fine, but why so close to a claimed territory? They knew better than that. 

As if on the same page, the stranger pointed out their proximity to the border, and Acheron stiffened further, anticipating that this might not go so well. He shifted closer to Tuvaq protectively, his gaze fixed on the stranger while also keeping tabs on his sisters out of the corner of his eye. It was stressful being pulled in so many directions, but he refused to let anyone get hurt. He was probably being dramatic, but he couldn't see that in the moment. Finley offered the name of her pack, one he was not familiar with, and he continued his silent watching until she asked where they were all from. Acheron was going to answer for all of them—something vague that wouldn't give any information away, but Spica beat him to it again. And her answer almost had surprise and irritation breaking through his stoic mask. What the hell was she up to? Her smirk his way showed just how clever she thought she was, and there was not a single thing he could do about any of it right now; he wasn't going to call his sister out on her lie in front of the stranger. His jaw tightened as his gaze locked with hers before settling back on Finley.

Since Finley is inactive I'll post again to conclude Spica's part in this thread - feel free to tack on your finishing posts, too :) I enjoyed this a lot :D

After sharing her lie about their pack of origin, which wasn't received with much surprise, Spica said, Well, we should head back there right now. See you later! And with a playful smirk she turned around, nudging Syrma's shoulder in the process as she assumed her sister would come with. Nice to meet you, Acheron's boyfriend, Spica said with a big grin. As she passed Acheron she said, Smell you later, nerd! though as she passed him there was a fond smile on her face. Seeing him again made her realise she did miss having him around, even though he was such a goodie two shoes who always played holier-than-thou on her and Syrma. But, hey, he was also their brother, and though she'd never admit it, she totally missed him.

After being out of reach from the borders and from Acheron and Tuvaq Spica would totally talk to Syrma about all of this -- about Acheron and his response to Spica calling Tuvaq his boyfriend, about using Moonspear as a cover-up pack name (clever, right?) and about these Saints of the Dying Light not being nearly as scary as the leaders of the pack said (as per usual; they were usually pretty protective and exaggerated threats).

Yep, it didn't take that much longer but soon, they had ultimately seen enough of here. They could probably get away with a little more poking at it a bit, but she was fine to leave it as is and keep up the fake from-Moonspear impression to the pack wolf. She smirked at the boys as her twin addressed them and wrapped this up pretty well by herself. It was probably best to end this there so Syrma just went along with it, no issue. Yeah, later~ she snickered at her brother, gave the boyfriend another pointed look, and went following her sister on out of here.

They could regroup on their fresh findings together later on.

Boyfriend? That was a concept Tuvaq hadn't considered before. Like, obviously they were boys and friends, but the romantic aspect wasn't something he'd tackled just yet. It wasn't bad - at least to Tuvaq - but Acheron seemed... uncomfortable. And protective. Which was also pretty weird, if he thought about it. Tuvaq wasn't much of a fighter, but he'd never been... protected before. 

"Yeah, later!" he called to the spotty sisters, tail waving behind him as the two left. They could tackle the... weirdness, later.

Chartreuse eyes flicked toward Acheron, a small smile on his maw. "You wanna get out of here, too?" he asked, tipping his head to the side.

At least his sisters had the sense to not hang around this place any longer, even if they hadn't had enough sense to just avoid it all together. He gave them both a disapproving look. Go home, not anywhere else where you can get into trouble, he ordered, knowing they would do as they wished regardless of what he said. Still, he couldn't help telling them what he thought they should be doing. 

Despite the tension in his features, he managed a small, gentle smile to Tuvaq. Yeah, sounds good, he answered. Then with a nudge of his head to his friend's shoulder, he turned to trot away from the weird forest, glancing back to make sure the other boy was following.