The Sunspire I see fire, burning the trees,
the fire fae
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#1
All Welcome 
It was her favorite place, in the entire mountain. While the willowing tree's were appreciated, and beautiful ponds and land beyond, she couldn't help but feel at utter peace, at the peak of the world. It was the highest place she knew, and the only place where she would strive to be alone. Occasionally when Orlaith came up, some would join in company, but otherwise- it was a nice getaway from her duties.

The fire fae counted herself as a socialable wolf, when it didn't come to the Court. Everyone who entered was to be treated like an enemy until proven otherwise, especially after what the previous court had done to her. If they threw her out, a warrior amongst them, due to simple population when she has lived with them all her life.. What is the chance, for a stranger to do?

Orlaith didn't approve anyone who joined the realm, until otherwise.

But it was different on the outside. She had a more of an ease to her gait, a smile with a barbarian laugh to follow. It was a strange turnabout, but it wasn't business, and she could freely talk to others without a worry. They were only fleeting meetings, what harm would they cause? Some caused lasting memories, some cause.. Issues. Her business and outside would always clash- but she tried to seperate.

So now, here she is. A flaming wolf, quietly sitting in solitude.
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#2
Riley also sat quietly, though in solitude no longer.

A laugh had first alerted him to Orlaith's presence. He canted an ear to the wind listening. No birds. No rustle of evening prey.

A wolf stalked among them -- and not he.

It was too late to slip off. Orlaith was too close, and he had done nothing to obscure his trail. Following his outburst at the court, Riley had never returned to the red crypt that marked Donovan's keep. He had a cowardice's inkling that teeth were waiting for him there.

So he climbed, resting. Limping. Climbed again.

Looked and howled for Esme. Climbed some more. Rested some more.

He was curled like a waiting cat under sagebrush, eyes cautiously resting on the phoenix as she contemplated in the wildwood.
the fire fae
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The the smell hazed over, she met it with a taste of familiarity, and the fairy of fire looked upon the direction. Though her fur bristled wildly, as a snarl came to be- but she stayed in place. For now, Orlaith knew what was to come, a possible war between them all, and she could not act too reckless. 

She faintly realized what had been done upon doing to Derg, despite no regrets being held, it had been brought up at the previous meeting between the groups. A reckless attack, causing more tension then needed, and a guard, she should remain more.. Practical. However, she didn't think the same to him.

He who entered their willows, and sung hideous words that Orlaith remembered.

"I know you are there," she growled, "show yourself."
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If Riley thought he'd endured a world of hurt the last time he met Orlaith, he likely had another thought coming.

Thinking, however, had never been a strongsuit. A sulky gaze returned from the sagebrush as Orlaith called him forth, looking every bit the haughty firebrand Riley remembered.

The delay in response was not Riley being obstinate. When the reply came, it was followed by a rough shaking of his ruff. "I'm not hidden." He replied sullenly. "Only resting."

He was tense. Any moment now he envisioned an arc of fire being slung his way. He had not forgotten her or her teeth, just as she had not forgotten him or his mouth.

So he waited, breath held and nerves on edge.
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#5
She was seething in rage- the upmost desire to simply lunge toward the man, especially so injured and within a desolate place. Orlaith needed to take a few deep breathes, especially on his wicked tongue to refrain from doing so. 

Focus. 

The restraint was almost far too much to bare, so she lifted herself up. However, the flaming wolf remained in place, but posture defensive and aggressive as she raised her tail in dominance, "What do you want?" she growled out, but honestly, she could care less on the answer, "leave, or prepare consquences."

It'd be a pass to attack if she warned, right?
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The woman tensed, raising her tail like a weapon over her back.

Riley's ears pinned and he looked away quickly, a scowl riddling his brow.

Why were women always so difficult? Why couldn't she be more like Esme?

While Orlaith took the time to focus and steady her rising temper, Riley took the time to process his options and the consequences. He resented deeply being forced away from another neutral territory, and Orlaith's command stroked to life the fiery embers of indignation that stirred in his birdcage breast.

"I'm looking for Esme." Riley explained tersely, still looking away. "What is your problem?"
the fire fae
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#7
That name, she heard him call for before within the Willows. Orlaith narrowed her eyes on the crocodilian man, "You," she answered with ease. It was restraint enough not to attack him so, but even discussion was simply irritating. She was never one with words like the Queen, believing it was simply easier using fangs.

But for the sake of court and the recent troubles, she tried to refrain, "you and your group, causing trouble in the mountains. You are unwanted."
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You are unwanted.

A constellation of emotions exploded in the yearling, like the seething fissure of a violently dying star.

You are unwanted.

Laurel stood before him with her lips curled. The hair stood up along his back. She had pinned him to the ground and all he could feel was the astounding flare of white pain behind his eyelids. Of agony and shame as he felt something wet and warm seeping his fur. He's screaming, crying as his mother's dark shadow lifts from him and then he's running, running -- not a red flame like the arc of a fading star, but a dark streak through Easthollow all the same.

He shook the memory from his head with a rapid shake of his ears. Laurel wasn't here. Orlaith wasn't his mother. Yet his fur was on end and a whirring current rippled up and down his spine.

Another memory:
Picturesque stream. The dark lines of the red face of his aunt. Tears stream her cheeks -- why is she crying? She's bending over them, nosing each of them into place. He can feel sunlight as it bounces off of the river. Warmth. He feels his aunt's teeth gentling around his scruff and then suddenly he's forced under -- NO!

Cold.

He's kicking and screaming as his back is pressed to the riverbed. Bubbles obscure his vision, water funnels into this throat with icy claws. His throat is on fire, it's on -- he's suddenly pulled up and thrown on the bank and he's crying louder than he'd ever cried before, his lungs warbling with water that sends him in coughing fits.


What did he have to do with any of them? He'd laid his head to rest in the red keep and now suddenly, they defined him? He'd been in Easthollow a lifetime longer than the three days he'd spent in the redsands, but now he was worth less than the filth under Orlaith's feet because he'd found a pack that could feed him and wanted him?

He could scarcely contain the shaking of his voice, the hurt and anger both vying for contention in the sharp edge of his gritted tone. "You don't know anything about me." If he was loquacious he could detail a thousand ways he wasn't the company he kept, but Riley's tongue and mind did him no favors then. "You don't even treat me like I'm a living thing, too." Riley supplied sulkily, still looking away despite how overwhelmed with injustice he felt.
the fire fae
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#9
"I don't." She admitted with a snort. She didn't know his name until Donovan had spoken, all she knew was he was a man named 'Riley,' one of the Saints. That enough, was her cause for disdain. Perhaps another time they would've been friendlier, and she wouldn't look at him in disgust and rage. However, the matter stayed, he was one of them.

"You are part of The Saints, who caused issues in the coast, and now the mountains. Why should I treat you kindly?" It reminded her of any who joined them, if they followed a man who caused such chaos, why should she treat them fondly? Anyone following a blood thirsty Pack does not deserve her pity, only fangs!

"You, who follows them, deserves nothing!"
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#10
i imagine this takes place a few days after the meeting with the Court, so Nyra likely would have been a member by this point. If I'm wrong I'll delete my post! ;3; 


Nyra didn't recall hearing about the meeting with the Fae Court in specifics. But, she was out here anyway, getting familiar with the land. Her massive snowy form ended up close enough to Riley and Orlaith for her to pick up on growing hostility. 
She could smell the Saints on the male. Not knowing anything except he was one of them, like her, she readily interfered.

"As unwanted as he may be in your lands, a neutral terrain like this isn't yours to dictate who comes and who goes." The White Witch prowled up with a deadly purr in her lilting voice. She planted herself between Riley and this ornery woman, massive size emphasized with how tall she held herself, tail raised like a banner as she faced the fire fairy with golden hellfire in her amber gaze. 
"That statement lies true with us too. But, I don't see this male telling you to leave, like you are demanding of him on unclaimed land. Or like I expect you to demand of me as well." Nyra flicked her ear, cupping them forward. She also had not bared her teeth as of yet.
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sorry for the shadowpost! this should be all set <3

So the phoenix conceded she did not know him, following in that same breath with a heated allegation that to Riley, felt like the probing end of an accusatory hot-poker. He kept his posture, though once again he felt the singe of injustice rise up in him like bile.

He wanted to lob it all back in her face. To scream into her self-righteous, beautifully fire-framed face -- I AM NOT ONE OF THEM! I AM NOT I AM NOT I AM NOT! I AM WANTED I AM LIVING I AM DESERV--

But what did it matter? He didn't have the energy, and he would never win in a fight against her. She was every bit his superior; she could cut his throat right then and there. His blood would arc and spill like a gurgling red torrent down the pristine stones, and no one would know.

No one would know, because he was unwanted.

"I was not part of that. I don't even know what you're talking about!" Riley insisted thickly, feeling like he might cry, scream, and throw up in the same time. He just wanted Esme. Esme with her barbed tongue and her stranger-savvy and her coaxing, effervescent touch. Esme would have known what to say. Esme wouldn't have let this woman treat him like he was a pile of dogshit she had to lug around on the bottom of her heel forever.

Riley failed to see how it was funny, but at this point, he'd spent more time with Orlaith than he had with any other member of the Saints besides Derg. He didn't think Derg was bad -- he certainly didn't believe Derg was capable of anything Orlaith accused him of.

You deserve nothing! Riley felt a choking sensation tremor up his throat. He felt rage's soot-filled, foul fingers stroke his temper. He wanted to stagger to his feet and attack this insufferable,  awe-inspiring bitch for the way she cruelly dug into him, but he would be killed in an instant. He knew when he was outmatched.

There was no question. Riley breathed heavily through his nose in a long sigh and placed his paws on his tired, road-chewed feet. It was beginning to become clear to Riley that life was an uphill climb and he would never reach the summit, much less enjoy the view.

Maybe it was better she killed him.  He was unwanted, after all. It was not like his mother would come crawling up this climb to sob over his corpse, and Esme probably would find some other dullard to shepherd along. He was just a tumbleweed through life, and everyone was always looking for the next best thing to come along after him.

Riley knew he was defeated and so waited for the strike to fall. He kept his gaze firmly planted on a boulder to the side -- he refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing he was scared. Stifling the flinch that threatened to show as he saw a shadow step over him, Riley tensed for the blow -- only to hear another voice in the mix.

He looked up incredulously, feeling dwarfted by the alabaster presence of a she-wolf unrecognizable to him. Riley had met few of the Saints, but this wolf boasted of the redsand's unmistakably arid bouquet. Sullenly the boy looked to Orlaith, expecting she would react poorly to the arrival of unexpected backup.
the fire fae
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#12
"But you follow them!" She barked in a rage, "If you follow them, it's striving their goals of blood!" Her fur was a blazed in prickles as she seemed like to lunge at any moment at the man. He had words of defense, but none of it changed in her mind. She viewed it as association, those with them, see with the same goals. They were just as guilty as those who cause their issues!

"If you weren't apart of them," she snarled, "we wouldn't be at this point."

She simply forgotten, at the moment the flaming fae was the same. With her words of fire and tearing of fights, she was simply causing more issues then needed. The calmness she held was simply in smoke, as the two bickered in words. Perhaps Orlaith would've lunged if another wolf didn't come in. She was large, but didn't tower over herself, as the fire wolf was just as large. 

"And who are you?" The guard said, her olives narrowing at the white woman. She smelled of The Saints, and because of so, she could bare no friendliness to so, "maybe so, a good reason I haven't fought him yet."
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"If you can't play nice with others, go back home." Nyras voice stayed calm like a smooth stream, ignoring her question "We have not trespassed into your lands this day, nor you to ours. Please, sheath your fangs and be civil. You look clever enough to understand civility. Unless I'm wrong about your intelligence?" She raised a brow.
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#14
caw is not paying attention to where he is going, of course! all the mountains are still the same to him. he is supposed to be getting familiar with what grows where. and it is helping a little! there is a peak further back next to the court that grows bunches of lavender on the slopes; the ridge close to the vale has many meadows with sweetgrass and paintbrush and buttercups. the sunspire, though, is farther than he has gone!

he combs the sides as he moves, pausing frequently to sample leaves and petals. he is not here to gather things today! it would be too much to bring back. but he is pretty good at remembering locations, so that is what he is here to do. and perhaps keep an eye out for anything else that the faerie queen would like to hear!

what he is not here attempting to do is blunder into a very tense standoff. but because he is paying attention to nothing but the grass and flowers under his paws, he does not realize what he is wandering into until vrána croaks a warning on his shoulder, and by then it is too late.

caw’s tail begins to wag when he sees orlaith. then he actually sees what she is looking at: a very familiar figure from the court, the one who had trespassed on faerie lands and insulted the faerie queen – and another figure, this one fluffy and white, but nonetheless smelling of the saints.

standing completely still, caw glances between them, one after the other. his tail sways very slowly from side to side.

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As emotional as Riley was getting before, he was even more emotional now another Saints wolf was involved.

He rose stiffly to his legs, wincing as a dart of pain howled up through his wounded hip. The raw laceration was still far from healed, and even as he did his best to hide his limp, it was glaringly obvious as he stalked gingerly forward.

For a moment it looked the boy was to say something. Certainly, there were wheels and cogs turning -- but it looked like his wheels were spinning out into nothing.

He closed his jaws abruptly and placed weight on his favored hind leg with a grimace. Riley wanted so badly to say some cutting remark, but he simply wasn't made for such riposte, and had naught to give the duo but silence.

Riley wanted nothing -- unequivocally nothing -- to do with the spat he could feel would be brewing. "Esme," the yearling whispered to himself as he gave a passing glance to Nyra and then made to limp down the mountainside. On his way down, he heard a croak -- and passed the form of a wolf that would have been familiar to him if he'd been paying attention.
the fire fae
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Orlaith had to take a very deep inhale, to avoid simply lunging forward. She could smell another- Caw, in the distance, and even peeking over she could see him with a wagful tail. His presence alone fortified her reasoning to attack, but at the same time dimished it so. She had to act more calm, despite the rash nature she wished to take course.

She was so prepared to do so, but also didn't want another excuse for The Saints to badmouth the court even more-so. She could feel her blood boiling by the simple restraint.

Well, if the woman caused trouble, at least she had back up too.

"Then take yourself and damnable friend," her snout pointed to the injured Riley, who started to limp down the mountains, "and remove yourself from here before it gets rough, and we will do the same." The teeth remained as she snarled out the remark to the Saint.
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#17
"I couldn't care less for your threats." Nyra blinked calmly and spoke just the same, unfased by Orlaith's obvious boiling. She let out a bored yawn "This is again, neutral land, my dear. You're best off to remember which lands are and are not yours. Being threatened by one's mere existence seems more damnable than existing itself. That's so much lower of a place to be than where you put us, y'know?" The White Witch shrugged at the last of her words and turned, trotting off down the mountainside back toward home. 
She spared a fellow packmate from getting harmed. Her impromptu mission was therefore complete, in her mind.
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caw is not certain what exactly is going on. orlaith does not sound happy. or look happy! but if he is being perfectly honest, orlaith has never actually sounded or looked happy, so it is not too abnormal. and they are nowhere near the faerie court, so nobody is trespassing!

stepping onto faerie lands without invitation is dangerous. attacking on faerie lands, even moreso. but riley will reap those rewards for himself. caw does not need to chase him around to do it! he stands there with vrána, bright crimson gaze lingering on riley first as he limps past them and down the mountainside: then on the white-furred stranger who he has not seen before, yawning in the face of orlaith’s fury.

this does not strike caw as a very good move! but orlaith does nothing but snarl and snap, so caw does not need to actually go after this saint. he imitates the curl of orlaith’s lip, showing off his own gleaming teeth, but does not move as this one follows riley down the slope and away – instead, once she has retreated a significant distance away, he looks to orlaith, tail swaying behind him.

“should follow?” he asks. vrána gives a sharp caw and settles on his shoulder, watching after the two saints until they have vanished from sight.

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the fire fae
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Orlaith snorted in disdain to the woman, "if you see it as a threat, then so be it, Saint." It was an advisement to leave before more trouble was to brew, especially as her flame was only being fueled, rising higher in fury. She had a step to preform a lunge at the woman, as confidence came soaring with Caw in the background, mimicking her so.

She wasn't eloquent with words like the Queen, and resulted into simple fangs and claws- which was why she was a Guard. However before the attack can be preformed, the white wolf left to follow down Riley to the mountains. Her posture moved upright, a less of an attack and more of a simple dominance with a sharp eye glaring down to them.

Standing above, like the Sovereign she believes to be.

"No," the flaming wolf said, stepping down from her mantle to meet Caw, "can't be hasty," says her, the ultimate one who fights first, thinks later, "let's go back to the willow." 

And with that, they exit.
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