Blackbeak Bluff who would like to hear the gruesome details.

Penn had needed to get out. The boy had been stricken at a very young age by the restless bug that often seemed to plague those who shared his black striped spine, so it wasn't entirely new for him to find the Copse so stifling that he needed to escape. The new part was that he could barely stand to be beneath those trees for more than a few minutes anymore.

Since his parents had died, Penn had been dismayed to see life continuing to move along around him. He felt as though his entire world had collapsed, but he seemed to be alone in it. Everyone else had found something new to distract them, something else to live for. There were new puppies, new packmates, new dramas and friendships. But what did he have? Only his loss.

So, Penn Blackthorn had set out. He'd had no real destination in mind and after three days of wandering, he still had none. He simply hadn't been able to keep himself put. There was no reason to. No one in the Copse needed him. No one had time for him. He didn't care about the stupid new puppies and in fact resented them for making them all forget that his parents were gone. It was like it didn't matter to anyone but him anymore, and it was such absolute bullshit that he couldn't help the angry rumble in his chest every time he thought about it.

Penn swallowed his anger to silence himself as he stared out across the crashing waves far, far below him. He needed a change. He missed his parents. He missed the life he'd had. He missed being happy. He missed feeling as though he had a home.

He needed a change.

She would have to expand her search. Combing the beaches had turned up nothing, not even a whiff of either his scent or Kingsley's. She cursed her single-mindedness. Why would Alizarin remain in such a place, where pirates were known to roam? Of course, that was assuming that the boy was that intelligent to realize such a thing, or that he knew his escape had been followed to this area.

It was hard to search for something when you had no inkling of where to start. She knew nothing save that Alizarin came from a place known as Teekon, a place she had heard of but never visited. That was all. No information on how many packs lived there, how strong they were, how far the land called Teekon stretched. Nothing on where Alizarin's home would lie.

She spat, a bad habit she had taken up from the pirates of Tortuga. A clusterfuck this was. Her honor bound her to the task. She could not just abandon this quest. Eartha sighed, approaching the cliffs and looking over. Maybe he threw himself into the sea. What a fine end that would be. If only. 

Eartha was not alone on the cliffs. She didn't hear him — the crashing waves were too loud — but the slight breeze sweeping all the smells into the air made her aware. She turned her head towards him, saying nothing, doing nothing but fixing the young man with her stare, waiting for him to do something, to acknowledge her as she did he. Part of her itched for a fight. She ignored the itch, no matter how bad it got. She had no surgeon to patch her up after. She wouldn't die here and leave that traitor to roam without justice delivered upon him.

Penn hadn’t really wanted any company. He’d wanted to be alone so he could stew about how lonely he felt in solitude. He didn’t realize how ass backwards that was, not even when he spotted the stranger further down the cliffs and felt the stir of interest. He could use the distraction of company, he decided. He also decided he could use some sympathy, though he wasn’t entirely conscious of this latter decision.

”You need something?” Penn asked, his tone indifferent, though his attention was not.

The young man acknowledged her, a tone of indifference cast over his voice. To hide something. He was wearing something heavy over himself — wrapped in it, even. She doubted the wolves here knew of grog or partook as heavily as her companions did, but he looked the sort that would drown himself in it, rather than in the sea. Or do the first before the latter. No Tortuga pirate would admit that emotion of sadness or grief, but she had seen it expressed in every indirect way possible.

Eartha pushed the analysis aside. She could interest herself in the dealings of the locals after she found Alizarin. Not before. Information, she said, keeping her voice flat and level. I'm looking for someone. A boy. Dark red. Golden eyes. There weren't many wolves running around with that hue. He was hard to miss — that was his folly. You see anyone like that?

Penn would've been dismayed to learn that his feelings were written so plainly on his face. Most of his practice in hiding his emotions had been in an effort to hide them from himself. He was not so delusional to think he was ever successful in that endeavor. But at the very least, he consoled himself that he was practiced enough to hide it from others.

Only not.

Fortunately, he remained unaware of his failure. He cast his gaze over at the woman, his eyes narrowing slightly into a thoughtful frown. Dark red, golden eyes. The only wolf that came to mind was Elfie, but he hadn't been dark red, and Penn hadn't seen him in months. "No, haven't seen anyone like that," Penn answered. He considered leaving it at that, but that probably would've been the end of their interaction, and he'd be alone again.

"He owe you a steak or something?" he added after a beat.

She was disappointed, though not surprised. She couldn't imagine that the boy would just fall into her lap the moment that she entered the Wilds, that that boy was known by all. It was a big world after all, and it had been a while since the fugitive had escaped from Tortuga. Shame, she said simply, her interest in the man fading for a moment. A rare smile crossed her face and she chuckled gently. Oh, things would be simpler if he owed me a physical debt. The punishment for him would be much less severe, for one. He betrayed me. She stated matter-of-fact. The betrayal had not been personal, but it had been a betrayal of her morals, of something she considered hers: her crew.

Penn watched her carefully as she spoke, noting that she didn't actually seemed that disappointed to hear that he had no information for her, in spite of the word she chose to respond with. He quirked a brow as she continued, then couldn't stop himself from the brief snrk of laughter as she mentioned that she'd been betrayed. It was such a dramatic word that really didn't have a place in the laidback world he'd always known.

"Betrayed, eh?" Penn repeated, letting his somber mood sap away the humor in his expression, "What're you gonna do when you find him? Beheading? Public flogging? Make him walk the plank?" He snrked again.

She laughed. It was a rare thing for her — though this was something the young man wouldn't know. It sounded harsh rather than mirthful, more like she was barking. Save the beheading, spot on. The smile still remained on her face, though it began to fade. You've heard of pirates then?

The woman didn't seem unfamiliar with the ideas Penn shared, which he found interesting. He probably should've found it alarming, but he would be way less for fun me if he had. He frowned a little at her question, searching his memory. There had been a day when he was little that they'd played some game about pirates at Maia's prompting. They hadn't captured his imagination like Wraen's dragon games had, but still. He knew the term.

He just hadn't known them to be real. If this interaction was leading in that direction. "Yeah, why?" he asked, quirking a brow, "They're a pretend game. Kid stuff."

To be relegated into myths and legends, to the stories and games that children played, was it demeaning or flattering? To be so mythizied and blown out of proportion that a child grows up to put you in the same realm as the tooth fairy or Santa Claus (or the wolf versions of both)? Eartha wasn't sure how to feel. I'm the captain of a crew, myself, she said flatly.

The woman's response came across to Penn as a joke. Pirates weren't real. Just like dragons, ninjas, ghosts and gremlins. He wondered vaguely if maybe she wasn't kidding--maybe she really did fancy herself a captain. In other words, she was out of her gourd.

At another time, Penn might've enjoyed screwing with the crazy woman a little longer. But his heart was heavy, and he just didn't have it in him to attempt something like fun just yet. So, he merely nodded his head and muttered a "Sure," before picking up his paws to take his leave. "Good luck to you," he tossed back over his shoulder, referring both to her search and her whole identity crisis thing. He slipped away then, hoping to find something idiotic to do to distract himself from his loss.