Blackfeather Woods I am a lost boy from Neverland

It was incredibly difficult for Wildfire to organize her thoughts into anything coherent, yet after being badly beaten—she couldn't remember who or what had done it; her body only remembered through the awful aches and pains—she found herself unable to eat, and the fog lifted somewhat. She was too disoriented to note the correlation, though she took advantage of this improved clarity by assessing her surroundings to the best of her ability.

She was in a cave, a foul odor permeating the stuffy air. It was muted thanks to olfactory fatigue, yet Wildfire could still detect the stink. There were a few bones scattered nearby and something black and oily on the walls. The she-wolf felt her hackles prickle as if intuiting that this was a very bad place. She blinked hard as she gazed toward the mouth, suddenly aware that she was far from her home in Drageda; that she had a mate and children; and that she didn't belong here.

She was on her feet, stumbling but moving toward the doorway. Wildfire opened her mouth to shout for help, only to clap it shut an instant later. Something told her not to call attention to herself right now; she needed to be stealthy. You need to get home... back to Thur... and the kids... Her first coherent thoughts in days flicked a little disjointedly through her mind as she crept toward the light pouring in from the doorway, only to find it suddenly blocked.

As the new, temporary Dark Master, it was of utmost importance that Nyx stayed upon everything that happened around and in their woods. The smell of a stranger, while not missed, had not been payed much mind until recently. If Potema had accepted another member, she would've been told. A new prisoner, however, was not her business. Was it someone from Teaghlaigh? Perhaps Rannoch that had wandered into the woods without a second thought? Or perhaps just someone she didn't know. Still, when the coast was clear, she went to check it out.

It was good she did, too, for she had only just blocked the woman's path upon arriving. Nyx squinted into the shaded cell in which their specimen was kept, only parts of her red coat reflecting the dim light that stroke the stony, cold walls of Wolfskull Cave. How strange, an otter in my water.

Her mismatched gaze did not linger much on their surroundings then, focusing only on the shadow-hugged creature that had somehow ended up in their traps. Do you remember who put you here? Nyx asked in a cold, unsympathetic voice. Her accent did not help making it sound pleasant either. As much as this was all not her business, she deserved to know who had brought the bird to their empty cage.

Here was another wolf of monochrome hues, like the others she vaguely recalled, her pelt largely black but brushed with hoary shades here and there. Her eyes stood out even in the feeble light, mismatched like Artaax's. Wildfire's heart twinged when she thought of her son and a flood of homesickness washed through her. How long had she been gone? She had no idea how long she'd been in this cave, nor even the current time of day. Her mouth went dry as she became more and more aware of her surroundings—and more and more horrified.

The two-toned (in more ways than one) she-wolf spoke, her tone cold. Wildfire gazed at her in bewilderment. "No," she whispered. "Who—why—why am I here?" she demanded, still struggling to piece together her thoughts into complete sentences, much less articulate them. "You—do you—mean me harm?" She thought she knew the answer and now she felt her heart quicken in her chest and her blood run cold as she waited breathlessly for an answer.

It was no secret that the young fighter liked hurting just as much as inflicting it upon others, but touch the plaything of someone else? Only Nemesis' prisoners deserved freedom - who knew what the foxy female had done to one of their members. Then again, they were a rather childish bunch if she thought about it. Perhaps it had been one of Potema pups' games? They had done a splendid job if that were the case.

Nyx sighed. She hated not having the answers. To be played with, I suppose. She answered, having no real theory on just exactly why since she didn't even know who had put her here. Sheo would've done some experimenting, the feisty pup liked tormenting and power - perhaps Potema even thought of sacrificing her. She stepped a little more forward, sniffling the other ever so slightly as she answered.

Me? A smile had settled, one too sweet to mean anything good. No. At least, not yet. If only she truly knew why she was here. I can't speak for my wolves, however. She said honestly, having no real secrets to hide about it.

If her blood had run cold before, now it turned to ice at the stranger's words. Although the she-wolf went on to explain that she wouldn't personally harm Wildfire, she made a rather ominous comment about her wolves. Horror grew in the Drakru's heart.

Without thinking about it, she darted toward the female's left shoulder, hoping to break past her and make an escape. Her entire body screamed in protest from her earlier beating, yet Wildfire clenched her teeth against it. She could be in mortal danger, so she had to try.

Power-play her to your heart's content (minus death, of course!).

She had tried to keep things simple; civil, even. She had been kind, responsive and had told only the truth. Why the escape attempt was being made now, she had no idea. Nyx, perhaps, was the only one that held the true power to free her. Turning the Dark Mistress against her was not something that was advised, but it was something the foxy female seemed keen on doing. She was rather small, weak from her time here, and so it was an easy task to, once again, stop her from leaving.

Raising her muzzle, she slammed it back down to grab the other's scruff, holding her back with her own weight. She'd let the seconds tick by, giving the other just the tiniest bits of hope, before ultimately trying to force her back and on the ground.

She thought of nothing now, save for one thing: survival. If she remained here, she wouldn't just get hurt, she would surely die. None of this crossed Wildfire's mind in any conscientious way. She operated by pure instinct and will to live.

Teeth clipped the sagging skin of her ruff, yanking her back. Unwilling to accept defeat, Wildfire snarled and spat like an angry cat, tearing her own flesh in her bid to escape. She didn't even feel pain, as adrenaline coursed through her veins, giving her strength she didn't rightfully possess.

She tore free, slamming into the wall, where she left a small smear of fresh blood. The bi-colored she-wolf still blocked the way, so now Wildfire crouched and attempted to dart between her legs.

Her hackles bristled and raised, something rarely seen from Nyx. Given her rather calm nature, it'd take a great deal to upset the Dark Mistress this much. So far, only her mother, Atshen and Vaati had gotten this reaction, as far as she could remember. She supposed she could add the tiny fox to her list now. Silently, she snickered as her form slammed into the wall. It was a form of physical comedy for her. How much she wanted this creature to be her mother could not be described.

As the tiny fae tried to dart between her speckled legs, Astrid sat down in the hopes of trapping her underneath her or at least block the tiny entrance. This, too, humored her quite a bit.

She anticipated an attempt to block; she did not expect the she-wolf to sit on her. Wildfire screamed because the weight not only stopped her, it sent a wave of acute agony through her already brutalized body. She more or less crumpled to the den floor, nearly paralytic with pain and barely able to move.

Fear for her life gave her just enough strength to put up a perfunctory struggle, but between the pain and her inability to breath properly, Wildfire soon stopped moving again altogether.

She knew not what had been done to the sprite of a woman, all she could feel was her form simply being crushed by her weight. Served her right, too, in Nyx's mind; those who fled were stopped or followed. This same mentality had put her former ward, Kahlil, on her hitlist. She felt the fae struggle like a wee babe in her belly, but soon she fell limp and Nyx felt comfortable lifting her form a bit to check if she were dead. She crouched as she would have done if she were to pee and waddled strangely backwards as to allow no opening under her.

Have you come to your senses, or should I piss on you as well? Her expression was kept blank, only her silhouette blocking the rays of muted light coming in through the entrance. She sure looked powerful in this position, but she wasn't nearly what the foxy female was to be afraid of in these woods.

When the pressure released, Wildfire's instincts screamed for her to dart to her feet and try again. Yet now she was exhausted, in too much pain to make the effort. She wheezed after filling her lungs, then coughed. She didn't move otherwise, other than to blink against the tears now filling her eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she wailed weakly, her voice echoing thinly off the formidable cave walls. She took a ragged breath, then changed tack. "My mate is the commander of Drageda. When she finds out about this, she'll wage war. Drageda has never lost a war." The words came out quiet and wobbly, and Wildfire shrank even as she spoke them. But even if she took another beating, at least she knew this was so much more than some pusillanimous bluff.

Why? Mad laughter spilled from the star-kissed sibling then, growing more and more like the snake of which she had the tongue severed and stored in her den. She thought the reasons were obvious, but apparently where she came from one did not fancy being careful with other wolves' stuff. Why? Well, you see, you are not mine. Whoever put you here wants to keep you, and would it not be a shame ff you slipped right from under his or her nose due to my carelessness? She might have the last say when it came to pack stuff, but she supposed playthings did not fall under than category. Honestly, if you had not tried to run I would not have touched a hair upon your skull. A simple statement, an already passed promise. Alright, maybe she would've tried something menacing, but who's to say now?

If your Drageda was as legendary as you believe it to be, we would have heard about them right about now. She responded to the delusional fae. Blackfeather Woods had been a long-standing and proud pack, so only the best allies would suffice, if any at all. As far as Nyx knew, they had never lost a war either, seeing they were still alive and kicking. There was just one thing that stuck out to her; the female had a female as a mate. It was a foreign concept to the one raised in shadows and her interest was peaked for just a sliver of a second. The she realized she had tried to make a move on her brother and all did not seem so strange anymore - not in a world as bizarre as theirs.

Sweety, do you have any clue as to where you are? No one would even dare and cross our borders. Well, save from a coyote that had wandered into her fangs. But she was long gone now, Nyx presumed.

She's crazy, Wildfire realized as the she-wolf went into a soliloquy worthy of a campy horror movie villain. The Drakru felt a seething indignation swamp her at this notion that she belonged to her captors, though she didn't have the strength to manifest her anger.

In fact, she couldn't muster much of a retort at all. Not only her strength was waning, her consciousness was slipping too. "Folly," she breathed. The last thing she did manage was a ballsy sneer, even though she was quailing on the inside. "You've made a terrible mistake, you just don't know it yet." These words came out lower and raspier than a whisper before blood loss and pain saw Wildfire swooning on the floor.

Strangely, Nyx had taken a fancy to these kind of creatures. Tied up in her web, even if they didn't truly belong to her. More and more did she start to like her position of power, though nothing beat her undying love for the crazed man in these same tunnels. She smiled. No, she wasn't quite there, but she was one of the brightest lights in the Christmas tree. Which yearling had ever claimed the throne of the Brotherhood so easily? Everything had worked out in her favor, though she had to tread carefully.

I do not make mistakes, only learning experiences... She whispered as the other's energy was finally fully drained. If this Drageda was that big of a hotshot, they would know soon enough. And they would beat them. Her graceful form slipped around the head-side of the other's body, brushing some stray hairs in place with her paw. Like this, the foxy fae was nearly peaceful. We ought to patch you up if you are going to stay the winter... She mumbled.