Redsand Canyon mastered from the souls of pain and heartbreak
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#1
Joining 
keeping this vague b/c this thread is still on-going; but i wanted to get this started. @Hela can hop in if she'd like but looking for @Derg or @Donovan Azura. i'd like to keep this relatively fast paced so please no more than two participants. :-)

praimfaya is accustomed to taking risks; the conclave where she pit her life against the four other commander prospectees. she entered sadgeda not knowing if she would make it out alive from one day to the four grueling days that the battles took place. she isn't sure if this is the right move either. what she's told hela was true enough: she did think that mahler was not as concerned about the pack as he was his son and wylla had annoyed her but they were minor ( at least the stryx x wylla incident was minor ).

praimfaya trusts the spirits of the commanders past and this is where they direct her. she feels it in her gut despite the dangers poised to her.

it wasn't like they wouldn't benefit from her: she is, after all, a master warrior. whether such an action would be sanctioned by sagtannet's eisens or not, praimfaya was on this path ( of being a rogue ) and knew to look back was to miss the potential. the commanders encouraged this and praimfaya had no reason to think they would betray her. they were facets of herself, after all. previous lives, even, if one was so inclined to believe in reincarnation. she approaches redsand canyon, mindful and respectful of their borders, tips her head back and lets out a howl announcing her presence.
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Derg was fairly close to the border, doing his daily sweep of the area.
He had considered going beyond, exploring a bit more, but the last time he did so ended...badly to say the least.
So he didn't.

The scarred man had already turned and was trotting back to the rendezvous for more of Dove's treatment, but then the howl echoed in his ears. Calling for a presence of leadership. Ah, him.
He turned towards the general direction and loped, hoping this wasn't some sort of trap. But not being Donovan Azura had some sort of advantage, right?

Soon enough, he pulled up to a pale warrior, marked by her own scars and haughty demeanour.
His tail waved softly in greeting, glad to see she was alone. 
"You have business here?" He questioned. Of course, she thought so, and perhaps it was well warranted, but he still had to ask.
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at least leadership was punctual, though she did not recognize the leader that approached. it was not donovan, whom would recognize her. that was ok, praimfaya reasons. the wanheda lowers her head in respect to his rank. i am praimfaya, she starts with her introduction. i have come seeking a place among your ranks. she informs simply. i know several of your wolves, your leader, donovan included. i knew nemisis too, though her and i didn't ah, get along. she left me these scars to remember her by. a terse smile is given as she gestures to the un-uniform scars upon her face, throat and shoulder as best she could. i heard she was gone. she offers in addition, thinking her explanation of her fight with nemisis demanded a valid reason that she would be here.

i spoke with hela recently, and after some time weighing my options i decided i'd try to join with you. i'm not happy with my current pack and i'm a warrior. a master warrior. i need ...i want my skills to be put to good use. i'm more than willing to fight for and with you if you'll accept me.
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Oh, so perhaps his worries about others thinking his name was too foreign or weird were wrong.
But it sure was bland.

But he was glad that she knew of them, even if the relationships were..tentative.
She spoke of Nemisis and Donovan, which he softly nodded to with a light hum.
Gosh, he really was picking up habits from Donovan.
Hearing she was gone though...Hela had be talking it seemed.
"Beheaded," he replied to that. Just in case Hela left that detail out.
Praimfaya needed to know what she was joining.

"I believe we can use your skills here," he continued, "we value our warriors greatly and you may find yourself in power, should you prove and contribute yourself." 
He smiled softly. He would welcome her with pretty open arms, especially if Donovan vouched for her.
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Donovan is muzzle deep in the innards of a rather large hare when he hears a howl sound throughout his canyon. His ears perk and swivel, cupping in every direction to decipher where the howl came from. It’s a stranger howl, not one he recognizes one bit. He wonders if it’s the fucking wolf Avengers here to try and run them out of their own home again. Still he will answer to it, he’s the alpha anyhow.

So he urges himself into a brisk trot while his black tongue licks the blood off his chops. He reveals himself to the two by coming around one of many oddly shaped stones that at littered about the canyon. His walk holds a light limp and the scabs across his muzzle and shoulder are getting better, but he’s still not in the peak condition to fight. Though he hopes he won’t have to fight as he sees two familiar faces — his Overseer and the silvery woman he spared with near the coast, Praimfaya.

He only hears the tail end of the word beheaded and his maw is widening into a friendly smile, though he’s still ever so cautious. He didn’t forget what Nemisis did to her. Still he greets her with a short laugh and an exclamation of her name. “Praimfaya.” He greets you her, baritone voice silky smooth. “It’s good to see you. I hope the incident with Nemisis hasn’t got us off on the wrong foot. Are you wishing to join us?” He inquires with noticeable surprise. Though one can tell it’s more of a pleasant surprise for his smile never falters and his glimmering coingold eyes shimmer with interest.
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i snorted at wolf avengers.

the man before her did not seem to be one of many words. he offers no name in return for her own. no comment on her mention of discontent in sagtannet ( though she is careful not to name them ). no comment in regards to her fight with nemisis; which was moot to leave out anyway. donovan would surely remember her. beheaded; is all he speaks. she does not doubt that he means nemisis. the fact that they beheaded her hardly bothers praimfaya who killed other cubs for her status as heda in crogeda. it wasn't like she hasn't done worse. i'm only sorry i wasn't the one to do it. she tells derg honestly, unflinching in the face of the woman's fate as donovan appears on the scene.

despite how the news leaves praimfaya with a mixture of satisfaction that nemisis paid for her crime(s) in blood and dissatisfaction that she was denied jus drein, jus daun ( at least by her own teeth that was ) it was what it was. she offers donovan a dip of her head. my people have a saying: jus drein, jus daun. blood must have blood. she has paid with her blood and her life. praimfaya says, indicating by her tone that it is good enough for her. she is surprised by the warmth in donovan's smile and eyes and shifts, keeping her body in a lowered neutrality, so the two men both fall within her frostbound gaze.

i was, actually. i'm hoping you have room for a master warrior in your ranks. she is not shy about boasting her fighting prowess; not when she knows that not too many others could claim such an impressive title.
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He was sorry too, in a way.
He would've made it less painful, but she did deserve it.
Alas, he didn't.
And that was all.

"A good saying," he mused back.
Donovan pulled up, listening in of her sentiment. They certainly weren't the best of friends, but they knew each other, to her credit.
He let him speak, wishing that he could melt away and hand the reins over to the Grandmaster. But he was the Overseer, and couldn't.
So he stood awkwardly, listening.

He supposed Donovan may spar her, to test her.
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The brindled male never allows his eyes to falter from her own — on sterling silver. He nods enthusiastically but still scoffs all the same. “She surely did; I killed her.” He hums darkly. “Mutiny and all that.” He adds in a more casual tone with a shrug of his shoulders.

Then he perks up more at the sound of master warrior leaving her lips. “Of course we do. I am familiar with you and your skill, I would be wrong not to allow you to join us.” His compliment to her skill comes easy enough, but on his next topic he becomes a bit more serious. 

“Though, you must understand that we have enemies. Enemies that we will run down and kill if they wish to do the same to us. We play this game a bit differently than the surrounding packs do. We are prideful and will only answer to our own — no one else. Everyone in this pack is expected to be willing to spill blood.” He tilts his head, smirk curving onto his lips as his honey hues never leave her. “Are you willing to accept this?”
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derg comments on 'blood must have blood' and she lets out a small musing noise of agreement, though her attention is given back to donovan in full force as he admits to being the one that killed nemisis. at least, if nothing else, then she assumes it was done properly. praimfaya would've easily assumed they were close, given how she eventually listened to him ...but she knew better than most that first appearances were often misleading. so do i. praimfaya tells him, thinking of hydra and moonspear. though perhaps they did not necessarily mean to make an enemy of primfaya, by ordering opalia not to come to her when she was in her darkest of hours was wrong and not a slight praimfaya could readily forgive; but in truth, praimfaya knows they have many enemies. renard has told her as much and it comes as no real surprise to her to hear it from donovan. you should know i'm more than willing to spill blood. he's seen her fight, after all.
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Donovan cited to the warrior the ways of The Saints.
What she must be willing to do, and may have to do.

And she agreed.

"I'm Derg, the Overseer, and I will be available to train whenever you wish," he spoke out.
"What failed to fulfil you in your last pack?" He questioned, watching her. He wanted to know to help her -- or to find out if she was lying about anything.
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He’s much too pleased with her answer. She will be such a deadly asset to the pack, especially one of her skill. He’s impressed by her eagerness to spill blood so willingly. Or perhaps she’s the type to only spill it when necessary. They’d have to see. Anyhow he’s glad to invite her to the team with open arms.

He nods in approval, satisfaction glints in his coingold eyes and he shares Derg’s question. What’s made her leave her previous pack? So he stays silent, waiting to hear her answer to Derg’s question.
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the male that greeted her finally offers his name: derg and calls himself the overseer; obviously a man of rank as donovan himself was. she suspects that derg took nemisis' place at the helm beside the founding leader of the saints. i'd like that. praimfaya says genuinely with a wag of her tail. she did enjoy sparring — a lot — but she would not deny herself the opportunity to suss out who was strong in the pack and how they fought. he inquires what made her leave her pack, left unnamed by her for their protection largely — though hela knows where she was from. one of the medics that kept me from dying came to visit — well, stryx hadn't came to see her specifically, but that wasn't the point she was trying to make. my leader chased her off even after being told she saved me. it made me feel like i didn't matter. it had annoyed her, but it wasn't as big of a deal as praimfaya was presently making it out to be.

and the other leader...well their priority didn't feel like it was on the pack. i was sent on a fool's mission to locate a missing child and returned empty pawed. though this had been a slight concern of praimfaya's, she didn't hold it against mahler, not in reality; despite how her scarred lips twisted with annoyance.
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He gave her a small smile. They needed more warriors, more wolves skill enough to help train the pack.
He nodded slightly. He needed to train more.
Renard showed him that, though he did already know.

He wondered why she was dying -- was it Nemisis, or someone else? Who had fought her and given her wounds so great? He doubted it would be Nemisis if she was here.
Alas, he wouldn't dwell on it. There were many dangerous wolves in the Teekons.

But for a leader to chase off a medic? His brows furrowed. A tall tale, or simply a case of being led by a complete idiot? Of course, he didn't know the full story.
He watched the silver warrior, the cogs turning in his mind.
"I'm sorry for the pack's loss," he mused, should it be even worth it. Probably not, but he'd spoken now.
His eyes flicked away, looking to he trees peeking over the northern ridge of the canyon.
He wished it had good trees here. Perhaps he was yet to find them.

He gave a short yawn, a high pitched whine as he did so.
"Sorry," he mumbled, licking his lips. Rather rude of him, but he really needed to sleep a little more.
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Donovan listens to her discuss of her previous packs apparent errors. To him those didn’t sound like too bad of reasons. Donovan is sure to do worse than that. Not to her, but to any outsiders. It’s easy for him to kill and not look back or give a single fuck about it. Though he supposes as time goes, he’ll see how loyal she truly is. Same with the rest of his pack. When shit really hits the fan with their enemies, he’ll get to see who is actually willing to fight for the Saints.

Until then he wants to keep an eye on Praimfaya. Maybe she’s a fucking spy, a mole. Or maybe Donovan is just paranoid. Oh well, only time can tell. Until then he’ll accept her with open arms. 

Finally he replies to her. “Interesting.“ he muses on her words for a moment. Then his smirk widens and his eyes light up in contained excitement. “Consider yourself a part of the pack then, Darling.” Then he hums the infamous saying of, “Welcome to the hunt.” before turning and getting right to business. “Come! We’ll show you around.” 
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she isn't big on his use of the nickname 'darling', but for now, still too fresh in the stage of not knowing each other all that well, she lets it slide. perhaps later, when she knew more about him, she might ask him to call her something other than darling; it's a term she instinctively wants to associate with affection but in truth she was no such thing. she was wanheda. thank you. praimfaya dips her head against, feeling the ghost echo of mahler's teeth at her scruff. she shakes mentally it off as she crosses into the borders of the redsand canyon, glimpsing about now that she is one of the saints. to derg, she turns and says with a dip of her head even as he yawns, clearly tired and perhaps ready to take a nap if praimfaya had to guess, come find me when you'd like to spar. surely, she wouldn't be that hard to track and would be sticking to the canyon as she learns the layout of the new territory. she turns to donovan then and motions that she is ready to begin the tour.
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Donovan was always so extravagant when welcoming people.
Darling, peaches, Welcome to the Hunt.
An act he'd perfecting since finding Derg.

He thought he was...special? But now, not so much. Donovan would fuck anything, it seemed.
Derg kept himself busy with the pack, distracting himself from the man.
It could only be so long before they inevitably crossed paths to talk. They were both leaders, and Derg didn't find him as often just for fun.

"Of course," he smiled, being brought back to the present by her silver eyes.
And with that, he started to peel away from them to continue his duties, should he not be spoken to again.
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