The Heartwood i guess we'll never know

after more than a year, she's finally back <3
all welcome!

After months of living in the shadows, far away from the world’s cruel gaze, the female is finally back to where her memories laid: Teekon. Agana made her way through the burnt trees, all the memories from her previous life flooding every bit of her being. Her bitter-sweet life, and the realization of what she had become: a disappointment.

First, her pack; she remembers vaguely following the white ghost that was her cousin, encouraging her every idea of sanctuary for both herself and her followers. Blinded by the blood they shared, Agana was constantly by her side, but now, in dire moments like this, she was all alone again. The ghost vanished, leaving her shadow behind to fend for herself. The grey female did not follow her this time, but perhaps she should have. The argent should have left right that instant, running up to her family in tears to accept her back, living her miserable existence far away from this land, where no one could touch her again. As she continued her path through the burnt forest, a branch caught her eye; nothing unusual, just a branch laying flat on the ground, with two small twigs close to it. And it hit her-

Second, motherhood; she was not ready for it. Perhaps if her parents taught her about the birds and the bees, she would not roam a dead land that reminded her of her failures. She remained untouched for the first year, but the second was another story. The argent remembers the morning her “illness” was cured for the year, that would leave a deep scar on her forever. Details of her lovely time with her lover filled her body, shivers running down her spine. She shook her head, brushing them off; it’s not the right time to think about her first time, but what came after. Consequences for curing her disease were bitter: a litter of only one baby, her little star Astraeus. The image of the black ball of fur was imprinted on her brain, how tiny and fragile he was; how perfect he was. He was the light of her eyes; the product of her incompetence. He did not have to pay for her mistakes, just because she was stupid and terrible that she brought a child into the world without thinking what she would do next.

The last thing she experienced was her head hitting the floor of the cave she gave birth in, and then blank. The lioness woke up suddenly and her black ball of fur was nowhere to be seen, and the traces of his whereabouts were also gone. In that moment of weakness, Agana did what she knew best: ran away from the world, from her role, from her son, from everyone. And now she was back, facing her mistakes, making them right a little bit too late.

A large burnt tree brought the argent back to her senses, her golden gaze shifted around the clearing, searching for any signs of movements. She wasn’t aware of any pack living around here, so she was not trespassing. Agana let out a sigh and sat down close to the roots of the tree, thinking about it all. Her goal was to reunite with her son and perhaps the father of her son, and inform him their time together gave birth to a star. Her son, her little star: Astraeus.

Hello hope you don't mid a Dreven and me. I should warn you he is a bit insane and the Forsaken is actually working on making a pack here, but nothing is official. But they're still territorial. I apologize in advance for him. I don't feel any of these things. If you want me to delete I will <3

As was always normal the dark beast was prowling through the heartwood. Dead branches snagging his brown coat. The ashes flowing up to cover his paws and legs. Tail over his back, scarred visage turned toward the dying light. A newcomer, he could smell it. And it wasn't one he let in.

A growl curled around his throat as he moved into the area where another wolf lay. A snarl lit up his face and he spoke, baritone deep with no kindness in his words.

You are trespassing, little cloud.

His growl rose in octave and he stared at her. He should set upon her and render her limb from limb, but their numbers were small. He could take her back as a prize for Malacath. Hell he could take her if he really wanted too, but that wasn't really his stle. He liked the pleasure to be good from both ends. Not just his. He could recruit her. Though looking at her. She didn't seem like much.

And he doubted she could even hurt something. She was not a beast like him, Like Malacath, like Khasni.

Get up and leave or join us before I kill you. He spoke matter of fact, straight. Eyes boring into her. Gigantic body rigid and ready to fly into activity if he should need too.

The brindled beast stalked forth, he slept none for there is no peace in sleep either. Meditating only helps ease his anger — or rather channel it. And if it does anything, it helps him plan.

He hasn’t done his daily meditation, his moody is rugged at best and murderous at worst. But that’s not uncommon for him. Yet, here he is, moving along thorn bushes and painful wraps of dead vine. Stepping carefully, but not immune to a mishap here or there. Though his massive weight and broad shoulders do make it harder to traverse the tangle of thorns he brushes past. Blood wells miscellaneously over a brindled pelt, hardly noticeable through the complicated stripes and shades of an ashen pelt and even less so on his midnight furred chest and belly.

He moves on, until he smells a scent leading into the land of The Forsaken.

His head lowers and lowers to the soot sprinkled ground. 

A stranger.

He lifts it ominously, gazing into the wood line. His paws move on their own accord and eventually he finds the strong form of his Harbinger. And no, not only that, but a small female painted in silvers. He here’s the tail end of Dreven’s words,

Get up and leave or join us before I kill you.

Alduin doesn’t correct him, but he hears the growl in the other man’s voice — the threat. He’s not bluffing. Alduin knows that, but does she? He hopes she can differentiate context clues.

Still, Alduin stalks in from behind, slipping past Dreven — so close — shoulder brushing shoulder but no other contact besides a curled tail that just so happens to get caught on the others nape. He continues onward, eyeing this woman down like prey — only there’s a touch of dark amusement in his eyes. 

“You find yourself in the Heart of the Forsaken, stranger.” His voice is calm, collected, no growl in sight besides the deep timber of a rasping voice. “Do you wish to stay?” The Damned asks then, tone heightening in question, tone tantalizing and mockingly inviting.

No worries <3  I missed rp-ing with my girl!
I had no idea a pack was forming here, so I apologize for that :’)

Her mind drifted away once more to the place she last saw them: the Sunspire Mountains, specifically Sawtooth Spire. After the fall of the Court, what was left of it were led by Mahler to Sawtooth and renamed it Sagtannet. Not long after, Agana got into labor, gave birth to a star and then blank. Now she knew her next destination: Sawtooth Spire.

That was, if she got out of here alive. Her rest was interrupted by a large male, giant in fact, wood pelt covered in scars, bloody eyes scanning her up and down. Agana gulped, now how can she get herself out of this mess, without the use of violence? Her limbs were weak, she could not outrun this bloody, giant trunk, fighting was also out of the question. The argent soon learned the consequences of her actions, a sigh of relief leaving her throat. “My apologies, I was not aware this forest was already claimed.” Diplomacy was her only asset here, and if she played her cards right, she might get out alive and unharmed. Her grey pelt was still clean, and she intended to keep it that way.

“Thank you for the kind offer, giant trunk, but who is this ‘us’?” hopefully the nickname she used for him would not anger him; hopefully. The answer soon came from another giant, a raven pelt who shared the trunk’s ruby eyes. These two could end her in an instant if they wanted to, two giants against a fragile, petite twig. Agana was no match for them and letting fear take over her was out of the question, who knows what may happen if she suddenly ran away? They will probably follow her, or do bad things to her…

“The Forsaken…” a moment of silence, thinking, “Never heard of them.” Again, silence. “Thank you again, but I am looking for something right now, and I’m not planning to settle until I find it.” Too much information was revealed, now they might use this to trap her here and hurt her, or worse. The raven-pelt seemed nice and actually behaved, while the drooling giant trunk right there already threatened her with death; how rude.

No worries. I literally just came back to rping here after 8 years I think. And I stumbled upon like six forming packs before i got my sea legs under me again so to speak <3

Dreven's growl quieted slowly, still a barely there rumble. He couldn't really blame the girl after all. They were new and forming. However, he was a territorial beast, a monster some would say. And despite that he seemed like a slathering beast, he was capable of rational thought, usually.

He raised a brow at her nickname of him. Giant trunk Was he that large? He supposed so to the girl he was. Sometimes he forgot his sheer size. A smirk danced along his face.

Dreven was taken from his thoughts by the brush of pelt, the smell of Malacath as he came near him. The curl of tail around his neck, and he quieted. He looked to one and then the other. Now the time for his low baritone was done. He simply waited for her answers. She didn't want to join them, pity. She was pretty and sweet, but it was probably for the best, they would ruin her. Some good things, just needed away from the bad. Like them.

Dreven's interest was taken when she said she was searching for something. Was she searching for the same thing Malacath was? Should they be concerned. IF Malacath wanted, he would see this little cloud to the border, but not unless told too.

She mentions her wandering into the Heartwood being a simple mistake. Perhaps it was, yet still, here she is. Before the Revenant and ready for judgement. Is he feeling nice today — no, not really, but will he portray that to this stranger in this moment? Most likely. 

To make it better, she says that she’s never heard of them. That’s good. Alduin doesn’t want infamy. He wants to remain in the shadows. Maybe a deal can be made, but he knows wolves like her and he doubts she’ll keep a shut mouth of their location. Not that it’s a secret of course.

But she has a secret.

The brindled beast tilts his head and moves closer, stopping a heart dropping foot away — towering over her with a head that hangs from massive shoulders. 

“What’re you looking for?” He hums in question getting straight to the point, expression remaining emotionless save for that same dark interest shimmering in bloody eyes.

The raven-pelt approached her, clearly ready to jump and tear her to shreds. The lioness gulped again, rose from the ashes and backed away a few steps. “First of all, you are way too close for my comfort.” They may be evil-looking and probably evil at heart too, but they only defended their home, nothing wrong with that.
 
“Second, I am looking for someone dear to me.” Agana did not plan to reveal any more information, and after distancing herself enough from the two males, she reluctantly looked around, searching for the closest, safest way out of the vines. There was no guarantee they would let her go that easily, without extracting whatever information they may want.
 
“Are you looking for something?” the ‘you’ in his question was accentuated, stating he was also searching for something; or someone. Either way, the argent was now interested in knowing more about them, even if it might cost her freedom or worse, her life. She needed to choose her next words carefully.

Dreven was a beast of simple means. He preferred simplicity to difficulty. However, he was also a loyal beast and as his leader moved to cage the girl in. Dreven watched her with lower lidded eyes. Red on gray. When he saw her move away from Malacath, he tracked her. She was gonna make a run for it. Which was her right. Though she wouldn't get far. He was larger than she, would take up more ground when he ran.

Dreven shifted and pushed his feet into motion. He blocked one of her escape routes, though he gave her the distance she clearly craved. But he made it known with the position of his body, and his face. That he would stop her if she tried to run. Malacath was not done questioning her. A small ember of something lit to life in his guts. He always enjoyed a good chase. He had liked hunting when the queen would allow, and that is what it felt like now. In a sense.
 
Dreven wanted to shake his head or tilt his ears, but he didn't. That was the wrong thing to ask. Now Malacath would be suspicious. And though Dreven didn't know him well, he did know that his leader, could be paranoid sometimes if that was the right word. It put him on edge, and now he waited.

Sorry for the late reply :’) my muse died. I hope you guys are down to continue the thread. <3
And I’m sorry Al is a meanie but he will not injure her at all for timeline sake <3

Oh yes, choose your words carefully. The hellhound is a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any second. Alduin’s unreliable temper is something otherworldly and he feels it flicker in his chest at her first words drift through his ears.

Aww, so she doesn’t want to be close to him? How seriously disappointing. 

That was sarcasm.

But she continues…

I am looking for someone dear to me. Are you looking for something? She asks. A dark, rumbling laugh falls from Alduin’s lips. It’s absolutely humorless. 

“Then we search for the same thing, stranger. I hope you find what you’re looking for; as do I.” He hums in a way that could sound teasing.

And at first glance one might think he’s trying to relate. But no, sadly not. He’s not quite in the mood for that today. His mood is sour and the thought of more strangers wandering into his territory makes it more so. Though, he will not kill this one, he decides.

“Allow me to help you find it a bit faster then.” He jests drably. 

Except the second after he’s done talking he goes still, eyes narrowing in on her like she will be his next meal. It’s terrifying — heartless, emotionless — his gaze sociopathic.

“Run.” He says firmly. “You get a three second head start.”

And with that, a rasping, ashen laugh splinters from deep in his chest and he snaps dangerous jaws in her direction. Intentionally missing her and most definitely wanting her to know that it’s an incentive to listen to his booming command.

He will not kill her, but damn straight he’ll chase her until the edges of ashen trees signal the end of their territory.