The Sentinels she learned how to smile with blood in her mouth

The swarm had come and gone and, Wynonna, left in a stupor, is lost and confused. She’d spent the last several days hidden away at the base of the plateau until the majority of it had gone away. In their wake, nothing is left, and her heart lay heavy in her chest and where she plans to spend the rest of her days. A traveler, moving along the coast, would not last long—she has no idea how far and how much the swarm has impacted. Going inland never seems ideal, unless she has to. The ocean could feed her, if she found the right places, but fresh water it could not provide, and when there’s nothing but stretches of flattened shores, inland provides her sustenance.

When she begins her travel again, heading north as she had been, she encounters a barrier she hadn’t expected. It has been a while since she crossed the borders of another pack—there weren’t many that bordered the sea—and so she hesitates in her advance. Wynonna turns her head to the right, considering moving inland, if only to avoid slowing down her potential destination.  She knows it’s not ideal, her chances were slimming with each day, and her stomach threatening her with a rumble she is forced now to ignore. Swallowing the lump in her throat, satisfied in her safe distance from the nearest marker, she lifts her nose and howls.

Come find me.

He sought the trade of mercenary – after his time with Siku and her wolves, the swarthy male had taken to the more fine craft of battle and only wished to hone it further. His father was a peaceful man, and one who was taken to the realm of magics. His mother had been a healer, as was his sister. Perhaps he remained an outlier to his family – and yet to maintain a rounded pack, he sought to grow his skill set further – if they ever required a tactician or a warrior, at least he could rise to the task with confidence.
 
He was untried, yet. But he was also young and able.
 
His form was thinning – hunger gnawed at his stomach, but he attempted to ignore it. There was not even the taste of a berry to help ease the discomfort, but what little food the pack had managed to catch was primarily fed to the girls – and then to themselves, so they might just barely fuel their energy.
 
Fatigued from hunger, the man’s ears cupped forward at the nearby howl, and while his eyes glinted with the temptation to ignore it, Constantine knew he would never be at ease if he had. Traipsing forward, his eyes falling upon the tawny figure of a she-wolf, he tipped his muzzle slightly, gaze unwavering as he studied her gently. “Welcome,” was all he said initiated – the Donnelaith pack was a far cry from the culture of Tartok, where a stranger during such times very well could have been met with fangs – the intent to feed the stranger to their young to aide their survival.

lasher heard also the call and drew near. with lucani ailing and possibly upon the threshold of death, though he did not wish this for her, donnelaith was half-handed. he loathed the plague and the famine, that they made him think in such a manner! but he was relieved to see the familiar dark form of his son.

he frowned as he drew near, however, for constantine's form had grown wan and thin with the realization there was so little to be found. his eyes turned to the form of a she-wolf, the one who had called, and taltos found no words upon his tongue, suddenly dizzy with weariness.

he was silent then, waiting for her to speak first.

Wynonna knew herself to be a patient woman. She could hear the roar of the ocean in the distance, even if she couldn’t see it, and it is enough to keep her calm at the borders. She considers, on better circumstances, she might have a gift between her paws while she waits but the emptiness of her surroundings did not give her much to produce. The barren look of the forest before her is enough to know that now would be the time to have a kill to offer. Instead, she worries her chances are slim and she considers back pedaling and moving on, either until she found something else to get her by.

When a dark figure steps up, slim and weary, Wynonna drops even more than she’s already standing. He offers a single word of greeting, welcome, and she lets her tail sweep a few times behind her and turns her head in exposure to show she means no harm.

“Thank you,” she murmurs before she’s distracted by another figure, just as dark, but older, and her gaze rests in his direction for a moment longer before she looks at the younger. “My name is Wynonna and I was hoping to talk to someone about shacking up with the pack here. I’ve got a couple’a good skills, I think. I’m a p’good fisher, know a bit about some herbs—nothing too fancy, though,” she says with an eager, yet distant, smile.

He felt his father’s presence before the man had drifted to view and scent. Lasher had a silent approach that remained formidable to the youth, and at the sight of his father then, Constantine tipped his muzzle down in a quiet greeting.
 
The she-wolf before them remained respectful enough, and the Mayfair’s amber eyes flashed with quiet gratitude – the last thing he had desired was for an altercation. She trained her gaze upon him, rather than the regal of the tall redwoods, and he allowed his muzzle to give a gentle nod to her words, feeling his heart sink – another mouth to feed?
 
And yet she could fish – perhaps one of the only options of prey they had left, given the larger game of their home had drifted elsewhere.. where the vegetation was fruitful. “I’m Constantine – this is Lasher, the Alpha of this forest.” Wit the introduction, the Mayfair tipped his muzzle in the direction of his father, allowing the druid to speak.

she was wearied but her tones revealed good humour. constantine was reverent as ever in his father's presence, something deeply treasured by lasher though he did not know what he had done to warrant it. the woman was granted his full attention then; he gave her a searching look. "fish is what we live upon these days; we will take your help. however, i must know: do you seek a home forever, or only until the famine has passed?"

for, despite the misery of each passing day, he still held fast to the hope that the greenery and the herds would return.

The kid introduces himself, then the wolf off to the side, but doesn’t make a comment on what she can offer. Her gaze remains on him a moment longer, expectant, but eventually she pulls away when the Alpha speaks up, taking her off, but not before questioning her long-term plans. Wynonna takes in a long breath, staring down at a spot between Lasher’s feet as she searches for her own answer. An answer too quick would be a lie, uncertain of her own destination in the long run.

“I don’t know where I’m meant to be,” she says, a smile planting on half her face. She’d followed the ocean thus far. Bumps along the way have occurred, and the famine is no different. It wouldn’t lead her astray. “The ocean wouldn’t’ve put you in my way if I weren’t meant t’be here, at least for now,” Wynonna adds, words sounding a lot cheesier than she’d intended. The smile turns a little awkward then, before she completely erases it from her features.

He remained rooted – a silent guardian as his father continued to discuss the matters of pack with the she-wolf. His eyes drifted between either, though always lingered longer upon the rogue. It seemed strange to him that a loner would seek to remain in a place with no ties and that held no food – and could only conclude that the locusts had swarmed much of the world outside Teekon Wilds as well. It was a thought that only dampened his soul further, though he spoke nothing of it – there would be a time for him to ask the tawny wolf what she had seen if she chose to stay within their ranks.

he had already accepted her; he was charmed by the woman's simple way of speaking and her straightforwardness. lasher had nothing to offer wynonna; surely she knew this, and sought a home nevertheless. and the druid still held the bare seed of hope within himself that the famine would pass.

"i grant you a home here at donnelaith. the flesh of whatever you manage to kill must go first to the children, and osprey, your beta female, heavy with children. do you accept?"

Even with the male offering her a home, there is conditions, and she doesn't expect any less. She can't promise a lifetime in these forests, but she can offer a temporary assistance where needed if it gave her a steady place of rest. And the sea is within reach, it's song still strong in her ears, so the tired woman nods her head. 

"I accept."

Lasher accepted her readily – his steadfast father who Constantine was studying with more intent these days then the past. Her willingness to commit to the pack was spoken at her ready acceptance, and with a lingering glance to his father before giving a swift nod to the newest member of Donnelaith, Constantine tipped his muzzle lightly. “Welcome,” he offered with a gentle rumble, before turning then to take his leave – should she desire to follow him for a quick tour, he would oblige. Otherwise, eh was not required here.

last for me!

he offered the woman a small smile. "welcome. please go with my son to see the land." with that, and a gentle nudge to constantine, lasher set off for a patrol, but it was an aimless air that led his heart astray -- he was lost, lost.

Even with her reasons for being her, and her acceptance, the alpha didn’t have much else to add. She gives him a parting smile and glances toward Constantine. Tired and hungry she may be, she shifts her weight so she could follow along behind him and allow him to lead the way of their tour.