@Hela
This was far east as she was willing to let herself wander, at least until the Saints had better numbers. It irritated her how unsuccessful Donovan's recruitment strategies had gone so far, but to be fair, she had never been much of a tolerant shewolf in the first place.
This seemed to be a vast, open plain, and although there was still signs of some previous desolation- a charred skeleton here, a blackened tree there- the land seemed to have healed.
She was slightly nervous, hunting this close to the mountains- the last time she had found an ample prey source near neighboring packs, she had been nearly torn apart.
She moved through the grass, ignoring the great lumbering behemoth for now, and Settled on the trail of a jackrabbit.
This was far east as she was willing to let herself wander, at least until the Saints had better numbers. It irritated her how unsuccessful Donovan's recruitment strategies had gone so far, but to be fair, she had never been much of a tolerant shewolf in the first place.
This seemed to be a vast, open plain, and although there was still signs of some previous desolation- a charred skeleton here, a blackened tree there- the land seemed to have healed.
She was slightly nervous, hunting this close to the mountains- the last time she had found an ample prey source near neighboring packs, she had been nearly torn apart.
She moved through the grass, ignoring the great lumbering behemoth for now, and Settled on the trail of a jackrabbit.
June 27, 2020, 08:16 AM
she roamed, searching without knowing what, exactly, she might be searching for. more than once did her thoughts flicker toward the queen on the mountain. she cut an intimidating figure, fierce yet disciplined. from here, she could learn, grow. despite her power, and renown, being at the top of the Nightwalker's had stalled her constant attempts at betterment, perhaps, she reasoned, because there had been nowhere higher to go. the blame for that circumstance fell onto her alone; she had killed her mentor, after all.
she is lot alone in her roaming much longer; the dark outline of another, female, becomes apparent. ears sweep toward the woman, and the warlord pauses her gaze follows the stranger. she offers no greeting (the woman seems engaged in something; a hunt, perhaps) but instead waits to be noticed, or ignored.
she is lot alone in her roaming much longer; the dark outline of another, female, becomes apparent. ears sweep toward the woman, and the warlord pauses her gaze follows the stranger. she offers no greeting (the woman seems engaged in something; a hunt, perhaps) but instead waits to be noticed, or ignored.
June 27, 2020, 12:17 PM
It was a fruitless task. The trail dissapeared into it's Warren and she growled in frustration. Looking up she sensed she was not alone, and turned. A black pelted shewolf, a bit younger than herself, with the lean musculature, intense eyes, and scars of a fighter. And a way of carrying herself that showed, that much like Nemisis, she was- or had been at least- a warrior queen. A slow smile crossed her lips. Interesting. Very interesting.
"Well. You're a pretty little thing, aren't you." she practically purred, moving closer to the shewolf in question. She was young, but it meant nothing really. Nemisis had been running an army since she was six months old. "But you aren't just pretty. This rose has thorns...and a venom, doesn't it?" She was nearly gagging internally at the theatrics, but it was necessary. She was still sore from her recent battles and moved carefully- the tear to her shoulder especially stung and seeped, though not as bad anymore. Now she just needed her pelt to grow neatly back over it. "Name's Nemisis. And yours?"
"Well. You're a pretty little thing, aren't you." she practically purred, moving closer to the shewolf in question. She was young, but it meant nothing really. Nemisis had been running an army since she was six months old. "But you aren't just pretty. This rose has thorns...and a venom, doesn't it?" She was nearly gagging internally at the theatrics, but it was necessary. She was still sore from her recent battles and moved carefully- the tear to her shoulder especially stung and seeped, though not as bad anymore. Now she just needed her pelt to grow neatly back over it. "Name's Nemisis. And yours?"
June 27, 2020, 12:45 PM
very few (read:none) had ever deigned to call her pretty, least of all little. the stranger's theatrical language is irritating, to say the least, and her auds flick atop her crown in clear discontent. her gaze flicks up and down the woman as she nears, finding there to be nothing immediately markedly unusual about her; rather, she is unassuming save for the healing wounds that have her move gingerly.
"hela," she deadpanned, expression not shifting in the least. "what is it you want?" her smile, her dramatics, even the simple act of choosing to notice the once-warlord rather than more on, must have some reason. she would rather cut to it than hesitate here long; hunger was companion she was ever-eager to sate.
"hela," she deadpanned, expression not shifting in the least. "what is it you want?" her smile, her dramatics, even the simple act of choosing to notice the once-warlord rather than more on, must have some reason. she would rather cut to it than hesitate here long; hunger was companion she was ever-eager to sate.
June 27, 2020, 01:38 PM
She's halted in her tracks by the shewolf's deadpanned greeting and gratefully drops the facade.
"Oh thank the gods." She huffs. "Or I would if I believed in any. If I had to spit out one more sentence of that rediculus language I think I would chew my own tongue off." She rolls her eyes, her posture becoming a bit more normal. She still carried herself like a queen, but lost the sneakiness. "Straight to the point and cutthroat. Good. I like that." She supposed she should just get to the point, then. "I'm forming a pack up towards the coast, in the bleeding forest. Unfortunately, you need members to call yourself a pack- and two wolves just don't exactly cut it. You happen to be just the type I'm looking for. I can't offer much right now, but when we are settled...if you prove yourself I can offer you a leadership role."
"Oh thank the gods." She huffs. "Or I would if I believed in any. If I had to spit out one more sentence of that rediculus language I think I would chew my own tongue off." She rolls her eyes, her posture becoming a bit more normal. She still carried herself like a queen, but lost the sneakiness. "Straight to the point and cutthroat. Good. I like that." She supposed she should just get to the point, then. "I'm forming a pack up towards the coast, in the bleeding forest. Unfortunately, you need members to call yourself a pack- and two wolves just don't exactly cut it. You happen to be just the type I'm looking for. I can't offer much right now, but when we are settled...if you prove yourself I can offer you a leadership role."
July 08, 2020, 08:31 AM
the woman asserts her absence of religion and apparent displeasure with her own words in a single sentence that has the warlord's brow curve a fraction. she moves on to mention a bleeding forest, and her intent, apparently, to lead a pack there. "you make offers of power on appearance alone?" she'd learned just how empty positions of authority could be, and even the promise of leadership alone does not tempt her ambition.
"what do you call yourselves?" her interest has yet to be piqued, but she's found it better to know more about others than they know of her, and if the woman is successful in her endeavor, she wants to know more of it.
"what do you call yourselves?" her interest has yet to be piqued, but she's found it better to know more about others than they know of her, and if the woman is successful in her endeavor, she wants to know more of it.
July 08, 2020, 09:19 AM
Her skepticism is noted, and certainly understandable.
"Oh no dear, not just appearance. You are covered in scars. Some in areas that would have been life threatening. You're lean, built like a girl who's spent her life fighting. You carry yourself like someone who has power- or used to. There's a sharpness in your eye that shows you take no shit, and demand respect. You're young, but that's not important- I was leading a small battalion and ordering servants around at half your age." Her analysis is quick, sharp, direct. Yes, Donovan would be pleased to have this Hela join their ranks.
",Saints of The Dying Light. I know, horribly fluffy, it was my partner's idea."
"Oh no dear, not just appearance. You are covered in scars. Some in areas that would have been life threatening. You're lean, built like a girl who's spent her life fighting. You carry yourself like someone who has power- or used to. There's a sharpness in your eye that shows you take no shit, and demand respect. You're young, but that's not important- I was leading a small battalion and ordering servants around at half your age." Her analysis is quick, sharp, direct. Yes, Donovan would be pleased to have this Hela join their ranks.
",Saints of The Dying Light. I know, horribly fluffy, it was my partner's idea."
the woman offers a clipped analysis which isn't terribly far from the truth, and the warlord runs her tongue over her fangs, contemplating. she has seemingly impressed, and yet the woman before her has yet to do so. for a moment, she is silent. "a spar," she drawls, "impress me, and I'll consider your offer." molten gaze shifts up and down the woman, a flick of her tail-tip as she waits to see how her offer will be received. but the woman only withdraws, and the two part ways, the warlord heading steadily north.
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