Sun Mote Copse Don't be shy, mortal man.

Open -!

Reyes awakens in the middle of a sunlit patch of grass. There was a ratty scrag-end of forest behind him, a few songbirds having an interminable discussion in the higher reaches. He thinks they're the cause of his early rising.

When he rolls over to his back he can tilt his nose towards the sky, listen to the green give way beneath him, and watch their beaks glinting in the light. Reyes glares up at them with half a mind to bark or shout expletives, but the slight movement of his body has spooked them enough. They take wing as his mouth opens; he huffs, and slouches back down on his other side.

A yawn draws up his throat, he listens to the distortion of sound as his ears pop, and licks his lips. They still taste like red meat and mud - and he sighs, remembering the previous night's antics. The boy looks around for signs of @Towhee as he rises to his feet, and when they are not immediately identifiable, he begins his hunt for water. Best get himself cleaned up, at any rate.

It was easy enough for Niamh to discern that the pack had a new member once she came across his tracks along the borders. His scent was unfamiliar and it made her bristle when she came upon his pawprints first, though she realized only a moment later that they trailed into the pack's claimed forest only a few feet from where Towhee's tracks led as well. Given the fact the tracks looked to be about the same age, she simply assumed that this was a new recruit. Good enough, she thought- another male to help add to their numbers, and hopefully one who knew how to guard and patrol, so that they'd have yet another pair of eyes along the border. 

Wanting to see for herself who it was that Towhee'd recruited, Niamh dithered through the copse in the area until she caught his scent on the breeze, and followed it until she saw the form of an auburn figure straying through the copse. The scent matched the one she'd caught earlier, but there was still no harm in acquainting herself with him, if for no other reason than to get to know her newest packmate better. She approached with a slow wave to her tail, calling out with an abrupt, but not unfriendly chuff to catch his attention so she could catch up without having to hustle.

Eventually Reyes finds a small pond. Its more like a puddle, barely large enough and deep enough to satisfy his needs. He does not take the plunge immediately and sort-of waffles about the edge, sinking his toes in to the cold water and retrieving them within moments. Shaking the water from his hind toes like a cat might. His lip begins to peel up in a scowl as he fights his dislike of the feeling and finally goes wrist-deep, sucks a breath, then flattens belly-first in it.

The sodden heap of leaves lining the bottom doesn't want to release him. He wriggles there a second or two as the mud loosens, breaking up and washing clean (ish). The water smells like steeped maple tea and it isn't horrible - better than the bog he'd trailed in to the copse, at any rate.

As he's rising to his feet and high-stepping out of the pond, water spins his fur in to pointy clumps and drizzles across the piles of dry litter around him. He looks absolutely distraught at the feeling of cold air on his wet underparts; but then he sees something that shocks away all of that. The glare on his face melts away when he spots the aureate woman.

She's chuffing to him. All he can think - and all he can say as he thinks it - is, What the hell @Nieve, when did you move here? Does mom know? The fuck -- It all comes tumbling out as he launches himself towards the figure and away from the pond's edge. Reyes realizes his error mid-stride, and the grin that had sprung to life upon his face was suddenly gone.

Wait -- who the hell are you? This wasn't his sister.

When the muddy male lifted his head above the small patch of water he'd chosen to bathe in, he looked at her with both surprise and some sign of recognition. Niamh was startled, and came to an abrupt halt, ruffled by the tone of his voice and the manner with which he regarded her and-

Wait. Did he just say her name? 

"What the f-" But it was all she managed to blurt before the male brought up her (their??) mother, of all wolves, and she scrunched her nose in confusion, and lurched forward into an aggressive stance as the russet male suddenly lunged toward her, dripping water and mud. She snarled and braced herself- but he seemed to catch himself and with a look conveying something like outraged confusion, he charged her with another question. 

She bristled and bared her teeth for a moment, before she leaned toward him just enough to try and see if his scent registered with her at all. Mostly, he smelled wet and muddy, and he looked like he'd be about the same age as Bronco. She squinted at him. "How is it that you know my name, but you don't know who I am?" She asked. She stalked a few paces toward him, her limbs somewhat stiff as she raised herself up to her full height. Confused as he might be to who she was, she'd leave no room for him to confuse just how big of a deal she was within the pack.

If Reyes thought for even a second more that this was his sister, such a train of thought was utterly derailed when she called out in surprise at him; then there was the bristling, the way one of her teeth caught on her lip, the scars over one of her honeyed eyes - definitely, definitely not his sister. 

How is it you know my name, but you don't know who I am? The stranger asked as she moved in closer, raising her tail - her entire body radiating a level of dominance that made Reyes hold firm of his own position, staring her down. If Reyes had retained one thing from his time in Tortuga, it was to take no shit.

The way this bitch held herself, she seemed to think of herself as hot shit. This was probably Towhee's co-captain. Reyes' tail remained limp at his hocks and he made no move to challenge her, but he did not back down either.

I don't know you, lady. I thought you were my sister. He grimaced, the corners of his mouth flashing teeth, and then looked at the mud beneath her feet; the closest thing to deferential she was likely to get out of him. Her name is Nieve. My age, bit thinner, looks just like you - 'cept the face. Reyes didn't know if he was more offended by the confusion he felt, or the fact this bitch had his sister's name.

How fuckin' dare--!

He was steadfast, and held his ground which did not bode well with Niamh, who had expected him to lower his gaze and his posture. There was hostility in his voice when he snarled a response, and she bared her teeth, echoing his growl with one of her own as he explained- at least a bit- that he'd mistaken her for his sister. 

It was one thing for him to have made the wrong choice in choosing to stand up to his Regent, who was one of the likely the least likely Firebirds to tolerate any amount of resistance. But it was something else altogether to say what he said next, to a wolf who chose to interpret his words to mean that he found her both fat and ugly. Well, she could repay that inferance in kind. "Your sist-" 

His sister. She paused.

"What's your name?" She hissed. "And what's your Mom's name?"

The tone of her voice reminded him of his own mother's, although it had never been directed at him in such a manner, and he could not help but bristle along his nape. The last person to speak with such a demanding manner to him had been his old captain - and that hadn't ended well for him in the long run. Reyes had to hold himself back here and he knew it. He was well aware of his own stubborn nature and his anger issues, having gotten in to trouble before, and this place as his fresh start - he had to be better. 

So he sucked in a breath and held his tongue against all the things he wanted to sling her way. Crass little insults, comparisons which would have certainly made the entire situation worse; she'd run him out for sure. 

The woman snapped at him: What's your name? 

The look he was boring in to the dirt redirected to the woman's face, his posture changing slightly as his head raised and a stern sort of pride radiated from him. His answer was curt, tapering softly as he thought of his mother. 

Reyes Rivaini. My mother's name... is Rosalyn. After a pause, his posture slackened a little. He huffed, as if to despell his broiling emotions, only to snap next: You wanna know anythin' else? I could tell you 'bout my father too, if he hadn't ditched us. What's it to you, anyway?

There was a tilt to his chin, lifting it slightly and she replied with a gesture of her own, tilting her face forward so that he would see the crease of wrinkles across the bridge of her muzzle. He introduced himself, and her eyes flickered for a moment as she blinked. His name didn't trigger a memory, at least, not until he spoke the name of his mother. Rosalyn. Suddenly, her lips pursed and the snarl wrinkles along her muzzle disappeared as she eyed the young man, seeking with her prying gaze and finding everything she looked for. In the hint of crimson of his pelt, he bore the deep maroon of his mother but along his nape, the flecks of saffron which caused something to stir deep within her chest. 

He was rude- and he offended her when he spoke so harshly about his father, though Niamh was inclined to allow him a pass as she suspected perhaps he didn't know that Ambrose was dead. Of course, she knew very little about the way Reyes and his siblings had been raised, though she could easily see the resemblance to his mother, in terms of pride and ferocity. She was quiet for a moment, considering whether she should simply pummel him into the ground in order to make an impression, or let him have a moment of peace. Part of her was inclined to shove him back into the small pond he'd been floundering in earlier, to establish herself as his superior- but she felt choked, for some reason. She felt something heavy in her throat, something that made her relax her shoulders slightly, though her gaze remained stern, unphased by the words he spoke about Ambrose. 

She was also perturbed, at least somewhat, that Rusalka had managed to worm its way back into her life somehow. In the wake of their uneasy truce, it seemed that the shore-dwelling pack had managed to make itself suspiciously familiar with her- both in saving her daughter, and revealing to her that she had more family than she'd expected. She heaved a dark sigh through clenched teeth. "Apparently," She said, when he asked what this all meant to her, "I'm your aunt. Niamh," She articulated, allowing him a moment to digest the fact that she was his sister's namesake. While she'd hoped to meet her brother's children, she'd pictured the situation much differently. She'd hoped that some part of her brother might leap from the grave, and tackle her to the ground, playfully. She'd pictured his blue eyes and kind face, but instead found herself staring at the male double of a woman who'd once tried to kill her. She wanted to feel softness, and she wanted to feel fondness- but all she could feel, at the moment, was denial and grief, spun into a pool of bitter disappointment.

Anticipation burrowed beneath his skin, coursing along his veins as the tension built. Reyes thought he was in for a smack-down. That's always the way, right? Say something a little bit wrong, a little too sharp, or to the wrong person, and find yourself eating teeth. There was a look on Niamh's face that Reyes could not recognize, volleying between white-hot anger and something far colder - more resigned, which did not make sense to him.

She seemed to deflate - not by much, but enough. He felt the anticipation die inside of him and go stale, an ache spreading between his shoulders. When she did speak it was through clenched teeth. 

Apparently I'm your aunt. Niamh. Which made all the sense in the world; his sister and this woman were so similar in appearance after all, and shared the same name. It had to have come from somewhere - but nobody had told Reyes his father had family, beyond the one he'd saw fit to abandon. It took a moment for the statement to sink in, and while it did, Niamh watched him. Studied him. He didn't like having her eyes lingering on his face the way they did - brought back some bad memories.

Rather than stare her down, he averted his eyes.

Family had once been very important to Reyes. All he'd wanted was to bring together his scattered siblings, maybe even track down his deadbeat dad, and take back their coastal home. Too much had happened to him at this point for the sentiment to remain.

The sea had never been in his blood. He was more like his father in that regard; a fact that he'd been trying to run from. As far as Reyes knew Firefly had lingered long enough to get his jollies with both his mothers, then fucked off forever. If that was the stock he came from then what kind of man did that make him? What kind of family could he piece together with the knowledge Niamh shared? She was probably just as much a bastard as his father.

So his thoughts went; a tumult of rage he'd done his best to contain.

When he finally looked back to Niamh his face was pinched, his jaw set with tension. What was he supposed to say? Hello, nice to meet you, are you as much of a whore as your brother? Does abandonment run in the family? The look on her face would have been earth-shattering if her opinion mattered at all to him - and it didn't. He saw disappointment, but it was mirrored on his own face. 

What, are we supposed to hug now or something? He drawled rhetorically. The agitation that had swarmed throughout his body had lessened some, but it was clear by the stiff manner of his stance he wasn't about to close the distance. I have a better idea. How about we don't, and I go find something useful to do instead.

The look on Reyes' face said it all: he was done here, but he wouldn't leave without dismissal like a good little crewmate. So much for that fresh start.

At last, the starfire gaze of his dropped to the earth, which made Niamh relax a bit. She didn't want to have to physically show him who was the boss out of the two of them, and had he stood up to her much longer she wouldn't have continued to offer him the courtesy of getting through with the get-out-of-jail-free card, earned simply because he was her brother's son. For a moment, she thought she saw him soften- and maybe he felt reassured, knowing that he had more family than he'd had before he'd come here- but then he seemed to put up his guard again, and asked a question which made her cackle. 

"Oh yeah, big family hug," She said, but she rolled her eyes. He was only half family, after all- as she still did not consider his pirate of a mother to be kin of hers. He offered a suggestion, but she wasn't quite done with him yet. He wasn't what she was looking for- but he'd do, nonetheless. "Actually, how about you and I go try an' find some breakfast. And no, this isn't some stupid sentimental 'getting to know you better' bullshit. I'm hungry, and you're new; I wanna either see you prove yourself, or gimme one of your legs to chew on until breakfast comes along." She said. She strode past him, and sniffed. "At least your scent's already camouflaged." She said with a slight snicker.

Reyes couldn't stop the aggravated sigh as it pulsed from his lungs. How dense was this woman? He wanted to leave. He had given her an out, and instead she chose to plague him with her company. The last thing he wanted was to bond with this newly discovered aunt.

Already proved m'self to Towhee last night. He states, ignorant to the innuendo there. Just boys being boys. And I'm late in meetin' up with them. As if he needed more of a reason to convince Niamh to back off; he knew he couldn't use force here, having lost a bit of spine with their shared revelation. Before she could respond he was already trying to step away, remaining oblivious to the fact that when stressed his father would also try to bolt away from conflict, so clearly avoidance was in his genes.

He was really just going to shove her off like that? For the sake of going to hang out with Towhee? Well- Niamh was sure she'd be able to explain to Towhee later why she'd decided to keep Reyes a bit longer- especially considering the fact that she now knew that this young man was her nephew. She snorted, and made a grimace, having assumed that maybe he'd meant to imply that he'd proved himself to Towhee in a much different way- considering the conversations she'd been having with Towhee recently about choosing a male to sire next year's litter, and she found herself somewhat repulsed by the idea of her young nephew siring the next batch of children she would co-parent. The last thing she needed was for the Kingslend wolves to catch wind of that. 

"Suit yourself," She said with a shrug. She'd given him a choice, after all, and if he wasn't going hunting with her, he'd have to satisfy her need to bite some other way- so without another warning, she lunged toward him with the intention of smashing into him, and snapping at one of the forelegs she'd previously mentioned she'd eat if he didn't give in and go hunting with her.

I rolled a 9/10 on Discord, so... lets see how this goes.

She quipped something at him but his back was turned, and then a golden streak flooded his vision as she lunged around him - following through with the threat he had failed to take seriously. It surprised him that she would have the gumption to back up her threat, as at the time it sounded flippant at best, but she moved with finesse and purpose. Her teeth were bared and came snapping at one of his forelegs

Reyes knew how to handle this. He could be rational about this. He need only to side-step or parry. None of those options panned out in the heat of the moment. He saw shining teeth and felt the air ripple with the shift in her proximity (Too close, too close, too close!!!) and Reyes snapped.

Quite literally. Teeth scythed at any part of her that was near, cutting through air just as frequently as fur, pinching flesh if there was purchase, and roughly too; as if his life depended on it. A throaty warning bellowed from him immediately and after, if there was an after, Reyes had sunken backwards in hasty retreat while his face contorted in a grimace of teeth.

Everything about him from his scrunched expression to the bristle of his coat and onward read clearly: Get away from me.

6 for Niamh

He was quick to react- and with a sort of lightning-fast defensiveness that she might later interpret to mean that he'd been lashed at before, and that perhaps this wasn't the right method to take with the newcomer. Niamh hadn't been angry when she'd made her pass at him- but she definitely had intended to get the point across that when she wanted something, she generally expected to get it. Him brushing her off to go and see Towhee, she felt, was simply an excuse- and he'd yet to really show much respect toward her as a leader. As a new initiate, she expected better of him than this. 

She expected nothing from him, as her nephew- and she'd already come to the conclusion that he wasn't really much like Ambrose at all, which frustrated her. She should've known than the spawn of Rosalyn and Erzulie might hold some sort of innate grudge against her, or other wolves- given how defensive and fierce they were by nature- but she was surprised to see Reyes react with such savagery to a simple move meant to spur him into action, or at least into submission. 

He snapped back at her which she hadn't expected. With her head lowered toward one of his front legs, his teeth scythed through the fur and flesh of her shoulder, not wounding deep but with several snaps, his fangs left behind a series of puncture wounds that caused blood to trickle down her shoulder and foreleg. "You little shit!" She snarled, but not without a coarse laugh. He was better at sparring than she'd expected- and everything about his body language screamed for her to back off, but she wasn't done figuring out his buttons just yet. And she didn't want to be told what to do- she wanted him to submit. 

So she recoiled for a moment recalculating her movements, before she struck again- like a viper at her quarry who had bunched himself in a low position. If she could get a grip on his shoulder or nape, she might be able to give him a good shake and worry him into submission.

The shape of her clarified as he sank in to himself, feeling a spike of adrenaline alongside thinly veiled panic. He did not like to be touched - that much was obvious - and with the activation of his fight, flight or freeze response, Reyes' vision sharpened. A common side-effect when someone was in a conflict situation.

He saw the ripple of her wheaten coat as she recoiled from his defensive snap, the surprise shining in her eyes and something like approval (?). A bead of red trailing from the spot his teeth had caught, flowing as if in slow-motion. The muscles tensing, the shift and coil and spring as Niamh came at him again. Reyes anticipated a hard retaliation (as he was used to the dirty fighting style of Tortugans) and when Niamh lunged he countered efficiently.

Niamh's effort to make him bow down was a sentiment he missed entirely. He fought as if he was a man on death row fighting the executioner before the noose could so much as touch his neck. If he wasn't grappling fang-to-fang with her he was trying to ward her away with snaps, or position himself further from her reach.

This how you treat family? He snipes. A meet and greet, side of ass kickin'? 

His anger tapered as the adrenaline surge lessened, but it was at that point Niamh's grip sought his nape and suddenly he was brought to heel, plunged in to the grass. Reyes remembered the last time he had been positioned in such a way and that's when he really lost it. 

LET ME UP YOU BITCH - GET OFF ME -- !! Kicking, clawing the dirt in to thick clumps of uprooted sod, he was a riot of red while Niamh's body pinned him low. He bucked his hips and tried to backpedal against her (though contact made his skin crawl and his steps less fluid) as he went utterly feral.

The frantic, whiplike motions and the way he reacted with such explosive energy made him seem like he was an animal used to being cornered or overpowered. There was something like fear in the whites of his eyes which she only stopped to notice once she'd potentially gone too far. She'd chuckled softly at his comment- but when he rioted against her and flailed, he was no longer taking part in the spar but an animal with its neck in a snare. This wasn't a normal response to sparring- this was something much worse. 

"Hey, hey," She said, with a half-warning in her voice should he try to lash out at her as she released him and stepped back. She maintained her tall posture, but gave him space, watching him with wary eyes. That reaction had been completely unexpected. "Relax, Reyes, relax, it's over," She said, though she felt completely taken aback by the way he'd bypassed spar mode and gone directly into a mode where he'd fight or die. She eyed him warily; what kind of baggage was he bringing with him? "Look, I'm sorry- I thought we could spar. Shoulda maybe asked first. You good? I'm not gonna come atcha again," She reassured him, trying to speak as calmly as possible while she also wondered- what had happened to him to trigger him so badly?

When she finally relented and gave him space, Reyes' breathing was ragged and a line of spittle connected his chin to the grass. He was shaking from shoulders to hocks as he got to his feet, grass and frazzled bits of forest debris messing his coat. He staggered up and away from Niamh with his tail practically curled to his belly; she had wanted submission, and that's all he exuded now.

Between frantic breaths he listlessly sought an escape route with his eyes, and murmured tersely back at her: What part of I have to meet someone gave that impression. Goddamn -- fuckin' -- crazy ass... huff, puff, glare, except he couldn't look at her at all. Embarrassment flooded through him as he reached a plateau of calm, fragile as it felt, and he wheeled his hips away so he could face her - head low.

Don't - just.. Stay away from me. He flashed his teeth in a meek grimace of warning to emphasize his point, sides heaving still, and backed up between the trees so he could flee among their dark corners.

Well, she'd certainly overwhelmed him- and now, in seeing him coil like a serpent without a drop of venom left in its fangs, she felt bad that she'd potentially ruined whatever impression she should have made on her nephew. What if he went back to Rusalka and told his mother what she'd done? She'd possibly just reuined whatever little potential there'd been for them to get along to begin with, and had traumatized Ambrose's poor son. What would her brother have thought, if she could've seen them now?

"Aight. Well, next time you meet someone, especially a leader, don't be such a stuck up prick to them, an' show them respect. You're the one who lunged and yelled at me, remember? You're lucky I didn't boot your ass all the way to Timbuktu for bein' that snappy," She said. Her tone was stern, but calm. Her lips quirked in a soft, wry smile. "An' I warned you I was hungry." She said, before she gestured with her muzzle, releasing him from his pose where he cowered. "Now g'wan, if you wanna go catch up with Towhee." She said.

The muscles in his jaw and neck pulsed. He wasn't going to explain himself or his faults to her, while at the same time still feeling acutely self-conscious and defensive. She cautioned him before a curt dismissal followed, giving Reyes what he wanted. He left, stomping off between the briars without another word.

He was moody, that was for sure. She watched him go, and eventually turned on her heel with a flick of her tail. She knew he would likely go about trying to avoid her, and that she'd best give him some time to relax and settle in to his new home. She considered the possibility that he could have been a spy for Rusalka, and she'd have to keep that in mind- and perhaps treat him a bit more nicely, the next time she saw him...But only if he deserved it.