Phoenix Maplewood entschlossen

mahler would not stop his search for @Astraeus as he had not for thade. in the afternoon he traveled westward, toward a forest that would be one day cloaked in red brilliance. for now he remembered it only as it had been during his fight with the boy, how the wolves had disappeared after that.
here he paused, tilted his head, called for his son in a peal that carried over stoneward mountain and taiga hill. 
if he was heard by another, mahler did not know it; head down and legs churning in a stoic canter through the empty woodland.

hi! i couldn't resist.

in praimfaya’s effort to avoid sagtannet — or what she thinks is sagtannet judging by the few recognized scents alone — she winds up following the territories down to phoenix maplewood; assuming she is in the clear only to quite literally stumble across mahler’s scent. strong; fresh. the commander pauses; hesitating. she could skirt around him but that would involve backtracking and re-routing herself. besides that, she was no bushhada; she was many things ( most of them not good, admittedly ) but a coward was never among them.

so, she pushes thru the last of the foliage; mercurial silver gaze falling upon the familiar form of mahler. mahler, she acknowledges him with a simple greeting; hanging back just in case. their last conversation had soured quickly, her disobedience and indirect challenge rising to the forefront of her mind. nevertheless, praimfaya would not apologize for it. it had been the right move even if she knew that letting donovan and his ilk fester upon these wilds would only cause their infection to grow.

still, she could not help but feel a little bad about how she’d left things with sagtannet.

!! hi!

of all the faces he had seen in his life, the gargoyle had not thought the girl's would return to it. and yet as he shifted to regard her more fully, noting the scars upon her pelage and how she was never able to veil her proud nature, mahler was suspicious.
"praimfaya." in the barren wood he had no claim. she no longer followed him and so too, he could not act inside the capacity of leadership. the shadowpriest only observed. she had been cast out of sagtannet for her disrespect; he would have believed by now that praimfaya would be a commander in her own right.
but she was alone. too close to rivenwood for his liking. he maintained his impassivity, waiting to see if the princely fighter would speak again.

priamfaya’s footholds in these wilds are clear but always appear to be beneath the rule of another. she can inspire and call to arms the allies she has made but staking her own claim was perhaps not something these wilds were ready for. not yet. roangeda had been premature and she, too young to properly lead it. when donovan and his saints were taken care of …she would need a new purpose but for now their extermination is at the forefront of her focuses. there is slight surprise that flickers across her visage as mahler acknowledges her for part of her had expected him to continue on as if he had not heard her.

she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had and perhaps it would make this all less …awkward.

you’ve moved, she remarks idly. i did not expect to find you so far to the east. not that, mind, she was looking. would she have known she’d have given them a wider berth.

apologizing is hard for her; giving voice to bridges she’s burned and mistakes she’s made ( and she’s made a fair few ) is not easy for her pride; but with growth comes the ability to acknowledge her own shortgivings; progress however small.

i do not regret being a spy among the saints for the knowledge i gleaned is priceless, she begins. however; i do regret how i left things with sagtannet and you. i shouldn’t have challenged you. i let my desire for revenge cloud all of my judgement. but it is still revenge she desires, in the end and thus begs to question has she really learned anything at all?

mahler gave no outward reception of her commentary. the girl's defection in the end had become a factor, a reason that wylla and himself had taken the wolves of sagtannet across the world.
and then again, and mahler now knew he could never commit to staying in one locale, not when change arrived on harsh wings.
her eloquence was followed by quietude. the gargoyle contemplated it, and then roused himself to approach on stone-firm legs, seeking the pallor of scents that clung to her aura. 
mahler did not believe she had learned, else she would have begun her apology properly. but he felt no harshness in himself, for a great portion of what had happened was due to the young warrior's age, the breadth of years between them.
"i accept," the gargoyle said at last. "you are full of youth and ability. let the old ones teach you control," he added at the last, a bare hint of self-deprecation cutting through the somberness of his scarred face.

for what feels like the longest of time, slow pulsing blood beneath a bruise; aching, praimfaya is met with silence. she doesn’t expect to be forgiven — a process that already feels familiar to her from her efforts to rebuild what she had burned with hydra and moonspear — and yet he gives it to her anyway. or, if not forgiveness; he at least accepts her apology and it is a tentative start. she might be a commander by birth; accepted by her people thru her sadgeda but mahler is right. she is young and has been without a proper teacher for too long. blodreina’s death, ingram’s …dacio’s — each sparked the fiery hurricane living beneath her breast and left it to go wild. it is hard, though, for her to accept teachings when she, as most young are wont to do, feels like she knows how to handle situations.

yet, clearly; she is still in need of guidance.

she has proven it to herself time and time again.

i know. what kind of force of nature could she be if her potential was honed into a weapon refined and less wild? she hurts and grieves and lets the wild in her take over because it is easier. easier, but not wiser. too easy to lash out and hurt wolves she does not mean to. i know. she says again, quieter still. it both burns like ash in her mouth and fills her with a swell of relief to admit what she's known about herself all along.

it was the last sentiment that softened glacial ice around the developed perception, sundering it somewhat. the outward demeanour of praimfaya had always been confidence. but any wolf could project such. 
for her bearings, for her scars, he had never seen the she-wolf as a child. for she was beyond that place within her life.
but now as she spoke, mahler wondered if she had been rushed into the way of teeth, fierce with little foundation.
clearing his throat, the gargoyle pressed his paws into the crackle of frost-wrapped leaves, lilac gaze resting on praimfaya. "do you recall astraeus?"

the topic changes then and praimfaya blinks mercurial gaze towards mahler as he inquires as to whether she remembers astraeus. praimfaya was never particularly close with any of the children of sagtannet but she remembers the boy well enough. she looked back upon their only real conversation with a fuzzy edge of fondness; for he’d been terribly young and interested in her killmarks. sha, she affirms in trigedasleng. i remember him. he was interested in my killmarks and i spoke to him about being a warrior. whether or not his interest had been fleeting was left unknown to her.

praimfaya suspects there is reason why mahler brings him up now with her and naturally, her instinct is to assume some sort of worst-case scenario.

why? she inquires in soft tone; trying not to let her ( understandably ) morbid imagination get the best of her.

so she had known him. this was a relief to mahler, but it was something he restrained harshly inside the tracing of his heart. he had not yet ascertained the girl's reason for being here. this was no return to sagtannet that he could see, merely a chance meeting.
or was it?
uneasy with the heavy new wariness that had come over him, mahler stepped aside, back along his path. muzzle in a gentle arc, inviting her closer. he did not yet answer, and when he did, it was a gruff, "vhy have you come here, praimfaya? vhat do you seek?"
cutting to the heart of the matter in a tone that was neither cruel nor friendly. she would find him more sparse with his emotions now, more assumptive of the other. 
a judgement he had passed himself beneath for the extent of his life.
treachery could be found even in the actions of those who had at last gleaned the graf's trust. takiyok. and it was her scorn, but also the offense of praimfaya which he wove now into a barrier. he had no reason to trust her, and more to disbelieve anything the ambitious girl said.
why had she come?

he was right to be suspicious, at least judging by her past actions. in truth, their meeting had been strictly coincidental. would she have known sagtannet had put down roots this far east she would’ve went a longer way to get back into the wilds. had she known she would find mahler in the maplewood she would have went the long way ‘round. it wasn’t confrontation praimfaya feared …at least not confronting those she made enemies of herself.

rather, it was fear of confronting her own faults and mistakes.

her own demons were harder to face than enemies ( or wolves she thought she had turned into enemies ).

she would rather face a thousand donovans than admit her own failings; but that was largely her pride lashing out. was he asking about this territory and area specifically? or on a scale more grand? she wanted donovan dead. she wanted the saints gone from these wilds. she wanted to stake her claim here again and not have it sink like a ship doomed for the bottom of the cold harsh sea.

i didn’t know i would find sagtannet here. that was the truth. i wasn’t seeking you out intentionally. and while both of them could’ve kept going… neither of them had. i want what i have always wanted, mahler. i want donovan to pay for his stacking crimes. i want the saints gone from these wilds. i want to lead. in this, praimfaya is true to herself and truthful with mahler. nothing has changed.

but, she draws in a breath. you are right. i need guidance. i need to be taught control.

praimfaya was honest, even bitterly so. her ambitions had not abated, and she would never be subservient. words first fanning his suspicions, then allaying them. an ironic twist of his mouth as he looked out away through the maplewood, which held its beauty even in the breath of early winter.
in the end, however, mahler felt that her directness was refreshing. and the allusion to needing mentorship was not something he wished to ignore. yet for the moment he was voiceless and contemplative once more, moving slowly as he searched for the dark shape of astraeus, as if the boy would materialize and relief could be found again.
"i had considered you for leadership in sagtannet." and stag, the man added to himself, a bitter pang of pride slicing through him. in the end the son of stigmata had chosen the woman that his father would have preferred. mahler had grown apart from the heavy dominance of diaspora. for that he could not fault stag. it existed in the boy to be fiercely, eternally loyal.
he tipped his head toward praimfaya again. "i vill not fight those conflicts for you. but i could educate."
guide. lead. it was all mahler had known for many years, a collective birthright he hoped to pass down.
mind warned of trust-lack, of deposement, of a threat in the girl he was wrong to not place first. but instinct pledged him tightly, and it was to the latter the gargoyle listened this time.

while in some circumstances the past was the past there were others: specifically her hit list with donovan and his saints at the tippy top were not put to rest. it was warring, this conflict. what was done was done and there was no going back: only forward, only to face the consequences of actions taken. she was a consequence. losing something she’d been considered for was her consequence. she’d let mahler down and though she wasn’t apologetic for her choice: she was apologetic that she had betrayed his trust as she had. regardless, praimfaya does not wish to be caught in the same neverending circle where she repeated her mistakes over and over and over.

it was exhausting and she was growing motion sick from it.

i’m not asking you to, praimfaya responds, trying to be reassuring. there are plenty in these wilds who i call allies that also wish donovan dead …and if not dead at least not a threat to these wilds. in fact, she could likely take a step back and let them do all the work but that wasn’t the kind of warrior praimfaya was and she wanted jus drein, jus daun. she was owed it. it is not a fight sagtannet ever needs to get involved in. if she’d done nothing else, she’d made sure to make herself the bane of the saints’ existence.

but for all she knew, in her absence, the hit had already been taken. she’d been gone a handful of weeks, perhaps, but it was enough to leave her unsure of …well everything. she needed to find natshana, to check up on those she had sold her information to.

you would teach me? she inquires softly, tucking thoughts of blood must have blood and war aside as she looks to mahler again.

mahler thought her talk of allies, the fact that she did not need sagtannet, was arrogant. it was a notion that he held a moment, turning it over and over before relinquishment. praimfaya was proud and quick to speak of the accomplishments she had made. mahler was not inclined in such ways. difference did not constitute arrogance, not when she had admitted her faults.
"i vould. you show promise." these words had been spoken to praimfaya before, he was sure, but perhaps not from his point of view. there was far more to leadership than the claim and the fight. bristling warlike and harsh at all times was an exhausting drain upon one's personal resources. and justice was achieved through solid footing.
"astraeus is older now, a child no longer. i suspect he might have roamed avay across the taiga," mahler adjusted smoothly, muzzle dropping to search for the boy's scent. "he vears his own scars these days." 
a plan, taking form within his mind, sharpened by the new knowledge that astraeus had once looked to praimfaya. "it seems each time ve meet a young vone has gone off," he observed dryly. "but if you are staying in this place for a time, i vould ask you to keep your eyes open for him. he needs guidance of another sort."
would she grasp the point of his missive? mahler looked toward the far shadowing of mountains.

though praimfaya is blind to it, it is her lack of education that keeps circling ‘round to her arrogance. still, she repeats her mistakes. her arrogance would be the hardest demon for her to slay; quick to give into it as it clamors for her attention. she considers him for a moment; considers that her ( most of her ) mentors have all died; parent and kru alike. it makes her want to give in to her more flighty of natures; to fight against it. but there is wisdom to mahler; stone cold perhaps, but he is older, wiser and has as far as she’s been aware, leading for a long time. he was willing to teach her, though he had every right not to be …the question was: was she open to his teachings? would she be willing to tear down the her fortress to learn what he had to teach her?

nothing she’s done before worked.

and in truth, she had all but forgotten about the last two pillars of the commander:

wisdom, compassion.

strength could only propel her so far until it failed her.

it would be an effort; she would have to work at it but she would be fool to turn away this opportunity. then i will learn. she agrees; quiet, voice a low sworn oath to him.

their conversation circles back to astraeus, about how he bears scars, about how he needed guidance. surely, he did not mean from her? hadn’t they just established that she needed guidance of her own? but she considers his words, thinking of how it appears to her as is astraeus has strayed down a path similar to her own. wild. an inferno at danger of burning not just himself but everyone around him.

i don’t know if he’ll remember me, praimfaya admits. but i’ll keep my eyes open. she takes in a breath, pauses and hesitates; ears falling against her skull. he may have to learn the hard way. as i have. she suggests; taking a third-party look at herself, hard as it was.

"ve must do our utmost to keep him from that path." tacitly extending a deeper acceptance to praimfaya, though mahler pragmatically doubted that anywhere she did not rule could be home. 
another arrangement then, one that solidified himself as teacher and satisfied her need to wander, to know, to search. mahler thought of legion now, how best to grasp the land he had so wanted. ambition too, burning in him as of late, a hot ember he oft repressed.
what would wylla think, to see him speaking with praimfaya again? he considered the barbs that she had used during their time together, his own said internally. perhaps it was a reflection of weakness that he had not at once chased the younger wolf away. but why make an enemy of her? let them start anew.
"there," mahler gestured, lavender gaze sliding back to praimfaya. "that is legion. i vant the land that is claimed. but i do not vish to raise conflict unless it is varranted." a breath. "how might you use patience to advance the negotiation?"

the path she’d taken was not a path she wanted anyone else to take; it was hard and at times lonely and always hindering on the precipice of self destruction. it was an unnecessary path to walk, praimfaya sees now, when there were wolves willing to guide you. she had spurned them away after dacio’s death and flirted with danger as if i could save her. she was lucky, perhaps, that it worked out so well for her but she is not fool enough to think that she is not hunted. if donovan had any kind of sense to him he would not take her threat(s) lightly for she would come for him.

one day.

astraeus might be like her and may not listen …but then, he had the advantage of not being her so perhaps he just might. time would tell; and largely whether she could help or not depended largely upon whether she stumbled across him.

i understand, praimfaya replies with a sage nod. if i stumble across him i will try. it is the best she could offer; the best anyone could do but ultimately it all came down to astraeus.

he speaks now of a place called legion ( perhaps praimfaya heard of it before, it sparks some sort of recognition within her if brief ); mercurial gaze following the path his lilac one carves thru the wilderness. he admits that he desires the land the pack holds but doesn’t want conflict. are they a small pack? or a large one? praimfaya inquires.

she is quiet for a bit as she considers her words. it depends. if you want them gone you could encroach on their hunting grounds, try to starve them out. our ways are harsh but it is how we survive. or, she drawls. you could offer a merger of sorts. like how my people operate with my coalition. each pack is led by a ‘leader’ but they are one pack. one kru. the local leader handles daily, trivial things but they all answer to the commander. the ultimate authority. you could make yourself that ultimate authority and sagtannet wolves would be welcome in legion and vice versa; sharing food and resources and numbers.

of course, that was only as good as if legion’s leaders would agree to such a thing; without knowing them or how they operated made it hard to know for sure whether something like that could actually work or not.

that the boy had disappeared after the heavy words mahler had given was not something that escaped the leader. as praimfaya spoke, the gargoyle listened, though once more he was seeking movement in the smears of grey beneath the naked branches, looking for astraeus and his long lope through their tanglework.
"small," was what he had offered. as the girl turned toward the tongue of her own land, mahler refocused upon her with a nod. "rivenvood now." the constant mention of sagtannet grated upon the shadowpriest; she had no way of knowing what had happened.
and though he thought it foolish to tell her, mahler spoke the name aloud for the first time. it dissolved like manna in his mouth, a vanishing ghost of sweet that edged a bit of pain from his heart. 
where was she? 
his soul begged but mahler would not heed. 
"the voman who leads, arbiter. she is alone vith children, i believe, though this must be confirmed. she is somevone who vants to be compensated properly for her land." 
gaze shifting to praimfaya. "it vould make a good outpost for a canny leader."

rivenwood, mahler corrects her.

she considers it for a moment, wondering what befell them that they changed not only location but name as well. rivenwood, she repeats; tone taking a slightly apologetic edge. i do not know rivenwood’s numbers but it might be wiser to approach her with the coalition in mind... largely, that depended on what kind of leader arbiter was; though. convincing an alpha of a pack to heed to the alpha of another and only giving them half of their power was more oft than not an insult. yet, one of the commanders past had done it and praimfaya began to sow the seeds of her own though it existed out of these wilds.

rather than compensate her for land with no wolves to hold it. but this was her two cents, at any rate. do you mean to usurp her? or claim her land for rivenwood itself?

"to hold the land, eventually. if her volves follow that is acceptable, but in truth i vant the territory." he had not meant now, but praimfaya worked swiftly in her mind. it was a characteristic he found to be important. though with a co-leader one must become attuned, attentive.
"the problem is that i do not believe she vould submit to my leadership. and i do not vant to hold land vith somevone who demanded the position." a stone and the edge of a cliff, he supposed, moving onward upon his path. 
the day had begun to wane, and mahler knew he must eventually return to the bracken forest. lilac gaze skimmed praimfaya. in her youth's might her training might rival his experience even if her size did not. the young woman had the advantage of a figure more spry, but at the end of it, she would have no footing in rivenwood should she later choose to challenge. 
"vhere vill you go now, praimfaya?"

in a way, praimfaya could see how nixing the idea of a coalition — especially when he doubted this arbiter would follow his lead — was more beneficial to him. it was the land he was interested in, he told her. the place where his rivenwood settled, then she is left to assume, is temporary if things went as he planned. fair enough. this, at least, praimfaya could understand. to be commander was a birthright largely but also a rite of passage. the last fos goufa standing wore the crown.

i’m not sure, praimfaya admits. briefly, she considered returning to hua’s clan but the idea of living off the mainland unsettled her too much. she is mountain born and prefers level or highrisen land over the endless engulf of sea. natshana was still there, or at least had opted to stay behind when praimfaya and renard had left to try to gather more allies …so she would have to return if only to convene with her bloodkru.

a plan was beginning to form within his mind. turning, looking toward the peak he had once claimed. a slow measure of it taken. "i think you are confident and skilled enough to live alone," the graf observed quietly. he thought of the former years' billowing snow, how they choked passes and kept traveling closer to home.
time now, to go to moonspear, and how formidable that trek seemed as he gazed toward the mountain sagtannet had departed, knowing the land where his daughters now lived was far further.
had he chased praimfaya away, she would have taken his trail up to rivenwood. again, the suspicion, and mahler knew by now he must trust in it always, no matter toward whom it was directed. better to bring the half-grown aspirant back, test her strange new vulnerability in an armorset of ambition. 
for what if it was a trap, and she meant to betray him for how he had cast her out of sagtannet?
her teeth would be useful to rivenwood. mahler did not care so much for usurpment as the idea his wolves would go hungry. leadership, should she seek to seize it for herself, came at the cost of proving one's worth to the pack which had followed him alone for long. 
"but it is not ideal." something like warmth touching his stare. "meet me back here in eight days. following the herds helps control," the gargoyle said softly, alluding to the first lesson he would give. she need but accept.

on the topic of being alone praimfaya was plenty capable; good at it even. the deaths of those close to her since a tender age left her in a ironbuilt fortress that tended to keep everyone a safe length away. beyond that, she could hunt for herself just fine and though winter months would prove hard upon her living on her own wasn’t impossible. she supposed she could return to hua’s clan ( she would at least need to visit to inform natshana of new developments ) but the thought of being engulfed by the sea once more leaves praimfaya feeling claustrophobic ( of all things ).

but it is not ideal

mahler speaks and she studies him, studies the look that would almost appear as if to be warmth but she thinks that simply she reads it wrong. he gives her a task: meet him back in eight days, follow the herds to help her learn control. or at least learn the seedlings of it. immediately, it sounds boring. spend eight days of her life shadowing herds? she wasn’t a hunter, she was a warrior… but despite her internal complaining she says then i’ll meet you back here in eight days. she agrees with a sage nod of her head.

feel free to fade/archive! it is good to write with you again <3

praimfaya agreed. mahler trusted the girl at her word despite his inner suspicions. her responsibility would allay those, he hoped. and if the aspiring ruler did not meet the standards, mahler would refuse further instruction.
but instinct saw her capabilities and so with a nod mahler took his leave, sweeping off at a clip that carried all scents to him. if astraeus was close he would be found; the gargoyle knew he must believe this fervently, and it was a relief that praimfaya too might look for the wayward boy.