Sun Mote Copse It's going down, fade to Blackstreet

Shit shit shit shit shit, went Sullivan's brain as he skittered back the way he'd came.

Let's rewind.

Sullivan had been minding his own business, he swore it. He'd been strutting along, having a chat with the spirits (read: his imagination), marveling at the cedar trees that dotted the woods. Business as usual. There was nothing so great as walking through the woods. Spirits Rise was about the most barren landscape you could find, but there was a boreal forest not far from it, and that had been where the elders spent their time. Sully, too. He'd spent far too much time with the old farts, so his friends had sent him off with a bite mark in his bum. Now being among the trees made him think of home. His heart felt sick as he remembered old Nelly and her toothless gums. They'd felt so good on his ears when she groomed him. Mmmmrmrmrrr, he mentally purred.

It was at about this point in his tangential inner monologue that Sully took a deep breath in preparation for a nostalgic sigh and got a snoutful of wolf smell. Let's get one thing straight: Sully wasn't the brightest wolf, not by a long shot. Treading unaware right over a pack's borders while wrapped up in his own head was very characteristic of him. But Sully wasn't completely stupid, and so when he took a second whiff and his heart clenched with well-deserved fear, he spun around and skittered back the way he'd came, and didn't stop until he was about a hundred yards from where the scent was thickest.

There he drew up short, panting, and turned his head to look for any pursuers.

It was not a scent that first alerted Arunik'ra of a breach in their borders, but rather the thundering of feet that came after it. She had not been very far when the snap and scatter of paws underfoot punctuated the hallowed silence of the forest. Instantly she was on guard, though her posture remained tactfully reserved as she leisurely pursued the interloper. 

When the the red priestess threaded through two boughs of tall oak she saw the offender; a robust agouti wolf that seemed to borrow from the Mustangs a coltish and lissome appearance. He might as well have been one, so fleet was his departure. She eyed the male as he caught his breath. At length she cast her voice through the trees: "You stand near the Malkaria, stranger. Might I ask the nature of your intrusion?"

Sully was a dense sort of wolf, and when he didn't see anyone directly in his line of sight, he thought he was good. No one saw, he thought, and silently had a small moment of dancing with himself where he pranced his feet and waved his tail. 'Course, that only lasted as long as it took the sneaky Arunik'ra to speak. When words cut poignant through the silence of the wood, Sullivan jumped nearly two feet into the air with a shrill yelp and his tail sought his belly as he landed and twirled.

It took him nearly a turn and a half to spot her, red-haired and resplendent among the trees. Jaw dropping, almost, and Sullivan's jaw did drop, but he composed himself quickly enough. "Err, yes, hello," he squeaked, fidgeting in place. "Um well, you see, uh... there was a spirit! Yes! The tree spirits whispered to me that I must go there... um... to you!" Hastily he arranged himself into the posture of a supplicant, a perfect little beggar boy, and began a slow crawl toward Arunik'ra whilst wetting his lips obsessively. Like a freak. But that shit worked on lead wolves, right?

"They told me of a great and... uh... wondrous woman of the woods who, ah, commands them!" Yes, yes, so goooood, he commended himself. Surely she would believe him. Everyone believed him and his spirit talking, or that's what he told himself at night anyway. He was a bit of a lackwit, it was undeniable, but maybe she was a lackwit too. A dumbass could hope.

As was her habit, Ragna prowled the borders of the territory. Always she moved in silence, if she came upon prey in her patrol she wanted to be able to give chase. And so she remained alert, though her mind threatened to wander. She took to the task of protecting the Malkaria with diligence, for they had given her everything she needed and more. What else could she do in return?

A rogue scent crossed the border, dashing across it carelessly. The flagrant disrespect had Ragna's lip curling. She traced it just enough to realize that the trespasser had doubled back. His crime would not go unpunished, and soon she found Arunik'ra's scent along the trail. This was good, as Ragna did not know how the Malkaria dealt with their trespassers, and wouldn't want to use excessive force if that was not their way.

She arrived to find the man cowering, laying compliments at Arunik'ra's feet like flowers. Ragna came to stand at her side, though further back than she. The Shieldmaiden would not speak, for it was not her place. But if Arunik'ra were to pass judgement and need Ragna's strength, she wanted to be there.

arunik'ra's lip curled as the wolf turned to face her, realizing he was not alone. her expression remained somewhat veiled - there was a faint hint of both bemusement and scorn tracing her lips, though neither seemed to overpower the other. she had not expected him to grovel -- and when he claimed he was here on a vision she rocked back on her heels and regarded him coldly.

she could not tell if he was serious, or if he was mocking her -- or even if he was lying. the jumbled, rushed manner in which he presented his story made her inclined to believe it was the latter, but she was not an impulsive creature by nature.

instead, she planned to test him -- and her resolve was strengthened by ragna's approach. arunik'ra gave the shieldmaiden a warm smile, motioning with a faint dip of her head that she was grateful for the support. she turned her gaze back to sullivan, her ears pressed forward in interest. "spirits?" she inquired as if in awe of the mystique and not a practitioner of it -- "are you a seer then? or some attuned vessel?" sullivan may not have known it, but arunik'ra had the horrible habit of playing with her food -- even when it was alive.

Eeek, Sullivan nearly squeaked as Arunik'ra's eyes grew cold as flint, but the sound froze in his throat, and instead, he uttered a pathetic puff of air. He scrambled back just a little, but ended up laying rigid and petrified when he spotted the other wolf drawing near. They've come to eat me, said his panicked mental voice, and if wolves could perspire, then his armpits and brow would be drenched from the cold dread that clutched at his belly.

He expected them to fall upon him like carnivores to prey, but they didn't. He peeked up at Arunik'ra with one frightened grey eye. He had the ridiculous thought that trembling on the forest floor was pretty much the least cool thing he could possibly be doing in front of a lady, and it nearly made him giggle. He stifled the sound and leaned his head back until his scalp nearly touched the floor, exposing his throat and chest meekly. She addressed him and his tail thumped the ground pathetically, as if to say, hah! Because Sully could seize upon that, yes, and perhaps save himself still.

"Y-yes!" he stammered, nodding emphatically to stave off the panic that threatened to swallow him whole. "I am a seer! Just a seer! I commune with the... the spirits of leaf and bark! They told me to come here! I'm sorry, really truly sorry, please don't hurt me!" He was a bullshitter, a liar, and a craven fool, too, but they needn't know that. Not from his lips, anyway.

The man grew yet more pathetic, prostrating himself before them and quivering. Ragna returned Arunik'ra's warm greeting with a fleeting smile of her own, but she was more focused on the wolf before them. He cowered and quivered, and Ragna let her lips draw back to flash her teeth before Arunik'ra began to speak again. Though she did not consider herself a skilled judge of character, Ragna was certain that every word the supposed seer was a lie. Yet Arunik'ra humored him, her misdirection working just as well on Ragna as it did on Sullivan. My lady... Ragna said softly, concern writ on her face. She did not say more, for it was not her place, but she felt the need to point out that the wolf before them was nothing more than a coward and a fool.

arunik'ra watched the male as he threw himself down as if a supplicant - her brow arched slightly and her lips pursed in stern thought. she had her misgivings, and the male's charade grew more ridiculous by the second.

it seemed ragna too had misgivings, though hers of a different origin. arunik'ra cast her packmate a sly glance, and if ragna happened to look her way, she might catch the tail end of a subtle wink.

"very well, the spirits wish it." she said dismissively with a flick of her tail. "come, for it is the prophecy." arunik'ra whispered hoarsely, her eyes wide with false excitement as she hoped to lure the male into their coven.

Sullivan's eyes, rimmed by the whites, turned slowly to Ragna. If he was a more intimidating wolf, he might've narrowed his eyes at her as if to say OMG STFU, but he was about as intimidating as a teddy bear, and his stare was more panicked than anything. Easily written off by the potential promise of violence, he would reason, if anyone cared to ask.

Arunik'ra spoke then and he swung his head back toward her, dragging a leaf or two off the ground and onto his cheek as he did so. Very well, she said, and his ears pricked up in surprise. He'd expected something else entirely, and had to fight hard not to LOL.

"Oh, thank you!" he exclaimed as he scrambled to his feet, the picture of a teenager and not of a prophesied seer. "The spirits thank you! I'm Sully!" It wouldn't hurt to mention the spirits at every possible interval. Sullivan knew he was full of shit, but this dumb (yet hot) bimbo was lapping it up like a kitty lapped milk, and she'd be even more impressed with him if the spirits communed with him on the regular, or so he thought. Nailed it.

It was difficult not to feel superior in front of the male, and Ragna quickly fell to superior feelings. If it weren't for her occasional glance to Arunik'ra, she might not have noticed the sly turn to her smile, let alone the conspiratory wink.

Ragna couldn't claim to understand Arunik'ra's plan, but she would follow through with it. So when Arunik'ra spoke and beckoned him with affected reverence, Ragna merely nodded. Again she did not speak, merely watched with curiosity as Sully, the name by which the male introduced himself, thanked Arunik'ra profusely for her mercy. Ragna wondered privately if he would be thanking them for long, but as she had no idea what the priestess had in mind for him, she could only wonder.

She waited, and if they began to walk, Ragna would follow, taking up the rear of the procession.

Once it was confirmed Ragna was made aware of her guile, the red priestess turned inward motioning for the duo to follow. Sullivan's lack of haughty composure (or really, his lack of any composure) was telling -- all the same, Arunik'ra was content to play her little game. 

He would serve a purpose, when the time came. For now, Arunik'ra took great care to contort her features into an expression of passive worship, as if he were their sacred vessel to commune with Molech. 

"you must stay with us, while I alert the Ekar-Aji to your arrival." The priestess instructed, making her way to the small quarters that the Malkarians slept in. Should they follow, the Sunspear would show Sullivan his new encampment, instruct Ragna to keep eye upon him (mostly don't let him escape hehe) and would then trot swiftly to Eshamun to inform her of their newest 'acolyte'. 

runik out! Thanks for the thread and I will have a new one out shortly.