Redsand Canyon death by a thousand cuts

*rubs hands together* kek

wanheda wakes up to the warm, red sands of the canyon without recollection.

of how she got there, of why she was in pain ...of anything other than the title ...or was it a name? and the rasping crow of a commander of the past in her head. but she cannot recall her own name or the name of anyone else.

wanheda, wanheda, wanheda.

to try to locate where all the aches were took more energy than she currently possessed and thus she licks her chops; tongue feeling heavy and coated in gritty sand. the shade offers some respite from the harsh sunshine despite that the morning was not yet warm. slowly, with legs that felt weaker than she'd have liked, wanheda pushes herself onto trembling paws and eases her way out into the sunshine in search of water.

A lot had changed in his life lately. Whrist had asked him to have a threesome with her and Kynareth (pretty weird) when he had asked her to come with him to the Archangels. Then the announcement had come that they'd all stay together for now, and then they were moving to a new place. Woah. It was a lot to handle for the coywolf. He vaguely recognised that he was getting closer to the other side of the pointy mountains now, living very close to them and therefore closer to where he'd grown up, but it wasn't like... close enough that he could accidentally stumble on Easthollow, anyway. He'd be fine so long as he just avoided that side of the mountains.

Charles had no clue that the Saints had a prisoner, either. He was pretty out of the loop with things. Maybe he missed the memo or maybe there hadn't been one to begin with. So when he saw someone who looked pretty weakly tremble through the territory, seemingly on her way to somewhere, he called out, Hey, you okay? Need help? as he trotted nearer.

though wanheda should've been paying more attention to both the strange scents all around her and to what was going on in her immediate vicinity — she does not. thus, when the voice calls out to her, she turns her head quickly and then visibly winces as the pain pulls at her wounds. she tries her best to summon the energy to be guarded ...but it is not to be found. all she pulls from within herself is exhaustion that presses heavily upon her shoulders.

are you ok?

the question echoes around in her head; hazy and unclear. it felt loaded and like she wasn't sure whether she was supposed to brush it off or not.

i... don't know. she finally admits in a heavy sigh that she feels like barely scrapes the surface. she doesn't feel ok necessarily but with no recollection of how she got here or the injuries ...or anything she is left grasping as desperate will-o-wisps that give her no answers. maybe.

She didn't seem very okay. Charles wondered what was going on, and he couldn't help but feel weirded out at running to someone who seemed to be having a bad trip. Ears folded back uncertainly as she said she didn't know.

Well, if you don't know if you okay yourself, how can I figure if you okay? he queried with a sheepish grin on his face. I'm not a medic, but I could call one? he then asked, though he waited with making the call until he received a confirmation.

Calling mom

Like Charles War was completely unaware if they had any prisoners at the saints. Actually she didn’t know if they even took prisoners. She didn’t like war prisoners too much. So much complaining, so much life wasted when they could have died a glorious death in battle.

So when War saw the brown male with a weakened female, struggling across the sand, she didn’t know what to make of the situation. She came closer, walked so close she could smell that this female was definitely not part of the saints. War had little empathy toward strangers, she had little feeling at all, regardless she wasn’t so rude as if to go ahead and bite someone lying down. Not unless commanded to. She looked at Charles and took a visible sniff of air to indicate to him to do the same.

She wasn’t part of the family. Not part of home.

”Do you know her?” The soon to be executioner walked closer to the female, not close enough that she was within reach. She looked sternly at her. ”You do not belong here.” It was a statement, not a warning or question. She was fully aware that this female was trespassing onto their land. Question just was, why?

”What do you want?” She was only an inch away from calling Nyra, to the scene and if the female didn’t give her a good respond soon, she would. War did not like this situation, it was too nuanced, not enough black or white for her. Kill or not? She was clearly weak from battle, wounds shining out like stars and no one had treated those wounds. Had she been part of this pack, so much would have been different. She had simply stumbled upon here.

That did the trick. War leaned her head back and howled. @Nyra

Doom metal ensues as Mom comes to the call lol

The Overseer, soon-to-be-Grandmaster, was on patrol at the time, picking up slack where the strength in numbers slowly dwindled. 
That is, until a familiar voice called for her. War's. 
Quickly then, the Shieldmaiden took off at a sprint, slowing as she drew closer and finally took a tall, purposeful stance beside War and Charles with intense gold eyes on Praimfaya. 

It appeared Kynareth had found one of their traitors...?
A malicious grin, then, as Nyra noted the state of their ward and the pained confusion on Praim's face. 

"Kynareth must have brought her here recently, I think that's his scent underneath all the blood, at least." Nyra stated, looking to War; "She is a captive. No need to be too alarmed." 

She wanted to kill Praimfaya here and now, but as the powers that be would have it, Nyra would not be the one to seal the commander's fate. 
So instead, the Overseer would simply observe and bear witness to whatever would unfold here.

Charles' last post here!

Someone else arrived and pretty much took over the situation from Charles. The coywolf considered interjecting that she smelled vaguely of Kynareth but a little voice in the back of his head was telling him that maybe that would be weird. Maybe then the other wolf would think 'why do you recognise Kynareth's scent so well' and he wouldn't know what to say. So he just said nothing and let her take over. All he said in reply to his much stronger and more able pack mate was No, I just found her.

Nyra arrived moments later and Charles vaguely recalled that his pack mate had called. Where was Lotus? Was she really gone or did Nyra simply not bring her here? Charles' stomach churned nervously as he didn't know what to do and he quite suddenly exclaimed, I gotta go! and took off. Later he would look back and be unsure what even happened there to make him act out this way, but in the moment, everything was just too much for the young coywolf and he did the only thing he was good at: Flee.