The Sunspire And I know the score

He'd loitered around the flatlands a bit longer before heading up the slopes in the late afternoon. Was this where he'd met that one annoying girl ages ago? He couldn't remember, but things were still wet so he was careful in his path up the slopes. He hadn't found what he was looking for yet, no Cupid, no attacker. Perhaps it was just because of the rain that things were so blurred and vague. It seemed like wolves were in the area, but nothing struck a chord.

Mal knew the Saints were around here -- it was part of the reason he hesitated heading up anyway, but just because he'd preferred they didn't exist didn't magically make it so. He probably had to deal with them at some point. Unfortunately. That was the way things always went. But for now he was still alone, still searching, and not finding the ones he was looking for. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and check one of the packs... Meh. Maybe on the way back...

maybe they were enjoying their self-appointed task a little too much.

but they couldn’t be blamed. they’d assumed that the saints would take some action, that donovan would have steps to take on the path to his goal. and there was nothing after all. so if the saints didn’t want to do anything about their enemies, renard would make their enemies do something about the saints.

the canyon provided less entertainment than they’d hoped. this, though, promised to be a show, whatever happened.

they’d caught hints of someone along the spire recently. this man wasn’t the source, and neither was the neverwinter wolf whose eye renard had popped only a handful of days ago. but his rain-muted trail smelled like the woman’s had. wasn’t hard to connect the dots.

they would be surprised if the pack was willing to ignore one signal, after they’d all banded together to oust just two people from ravensblood forest. but there was nothing wrong with underlining your point.

renard tracked after him. it was a fresh scent – had to be, with all of this rain – and it wasn’t long before they caught sight of the blurred figure.

they were already smiling as they rose from the mist, keeping a fair amount of distance between them – this wasn’t like the cave, so dark they could stick to the shadow. and just as with the woman, they weren’t here to kill. more…to make an example of.

no point in hiding the information. the game they were playing required a little participation.

“a lot of you around lately,” they said. “you’re very eager to tempt fate.”

Mal wasn't alone. He recognized the pack scent enough -- or at least that of Donovan's. Saints. Lovely. So their little anthill had to be somewhere nearby? Mal watched the guy, tip of his head at the smile, the words. The fact this dude was also sort of weird-looking and so Mal jumped to the not-unreasonable conclusion that maybe he was Donovan's brother. Would that make his backup plan work better or worse? Not sure.

A lot of what? Cupid had been gone long enough that Mal had assumed he meant something more generic -- just other pack wolves in general maybe. Having it be wolves from his own pack seemed unlikely, given all the rain and time that passed. And honestly, he didn't want to find out Cupid had anything to do with the Saints. And so, best to not assume, he kept things nice and ordinary, and if he needed to play dumb, so be it, What are you going on about? Last I checked lower slopes weren't exactly dangerous. Well, it was slightly ordinary but nowhere near keen to close any space, and though Mal was at least going to be of some cheer. This dude wouldn't know any better what he was normally like, that for Mal it wasn't too much. Nah, Mal probably seemed like just some normal guy who wasn't big on giving hugs to strangers.

their grin offered teeth, backing swiftly into the realm of unfriendly. they took a step forward, though much of the distance still lingered as renard examined him. the woman's reaction in sunbeam lair had been immediate and afraid, and donovan had pronounced neverwinter forest one of the groups that had driven the saints from their original territory – would there even be fresh recruits who didn't know of them?

it depended. but it was smart to think the best of your enemies until you could prove otherwise, and the best that could be happening right now was that this man knew exactly what renard was talking about and was just pretending he didn't. exactly why...well, that was a little harder to guess.

if it was spying he was after, playing dumb was a sad excuse.

"don't bother," renard said. "you're neverwinter forest, and i'm sure you know i'm a saint. i'm also sure you know the saints live nearby, and that we aren't friends. if you don't, you do now. free of charge." the smile widened. "so you understand why i'm curious. you're the second of your pack i've seen lately, and unfortunately, you aren't welcome here."

When the man took a step towards him, Mal, after a slight delay, took a couple of leisurely steps along, ending up at the same distance. He seemed relatively unperturbed, but at the distance they were at, it was perhaps a reasonable thing.

But he'd seen someone? It had to be Cupid, didn't it? Nobody else had left recently. Still, the thought gave him kind of a "huh" look for a moment, which wasn't too out of line when he added a perplexed, Who? Nobody was missing, really. This was way out of the way, there was no reason for them to be out here.

Overall, he'd keep being dumb if this dude was gonna keep talking like this. Seemed easy enough to do, people constantly underestimated Mal anyway -- he must have one of those pretty faces that made people think he had the common sense and IQ of a rock, Last I checked, we don't have any actual enemies. And I'm pretty sure this isn't your territory anyway. So are you like.. trying to get people mad your pack? That doesn't seem like a good idea. He kept talking to the guy like he was any ol' rando out there, not really afraid, and more to the tone of "harassing those angry bison seems like a bad idea" or similar. Here was Mal, being the voice of normalcy, reason and innocence... Or something. Or maybe to this guy it was the voice of "maybe you're messing with some twisted plan Donovan has" or such was Mal's assumption.

a year ago, back at the court, renard might not have believed there was any person who was this stupid, but since then donovan had invited a spy into their ranks and pledged to protect a pack of strangers, so the bar was very low indeed.

but even if there was something going on behind his eyes renard's goal was, in fact, getting people mad at the saints. if they had new information to offer, it was nothing less than they expected the man to know – but they'd given him enough, for now, and they weren't inclined to spell it out like he was a child. if he didn't understand, it would be all the better for renard to attack, and if he did – that was what they were expecting.

they lifted their head and pretended to think, for a long, drawn out moment. her name hadn't mattered at the time, and it still didn't. she was identifiable enough without one. "she had a heart on her forehead." they clicked their teeth together, keeping a casual eye on his face as they smiled. "and a missing eye."

His ears pitched forward as the Saints guy started talking, curious. But yet again, what was said wasn't what he was necessarily expecting right out. One of the benefits of Cupid being Cupid was that Mal's initial confusion was genuine, because the only heart-marked wolves he knew were guys. Then, oh, wait. But by then he shifted the expression to give the dude a sort of owlish expression with a side of "you're kind of crazy, yo" which was also a pretty honest opinion.

But that meant he was alive. And hurt from the sound of it, but he hadn't gone home yet, so Mal did kinda need to find him if he could. The trail was cold and washed away, but he'd go look before heading home at the very least. Either way, he wouldn't be sticking around if this guy got all chompy.

So you went and attacked a random person just for kicks? I mean, before you, your pack had pretty much left us alone. Couldn't you be messing with some great plan of your head honcho's or something? You'll end up with that guy chewing on ya. Mal had his suspicions, all of them revolved around why Donovan was so interested in Simmik. He assumed it was nothing honest or good. Was this guy acting on his own accord? With his own plans? Trying to destroy the pack from the inside? Well, if it was the latter, there were easier ways to do that.

"it does get boring here." renard shrugged. "it's cute that you think donovan is done with you."

not a lie, though they'd been hiding all of this from him – it might as well have been. incompetent or not, donovan had said he wanted to watch them bow.

whatever rank he held, however, renard had little interest in him running back to his leader with any more than they'd already offered. and what they were about to give. for now their interests regarding someone who could properly lead lay in praimfaya – neverwinter forest was a means to an end.

"you have a lot of questions, don't you," renard smiled. "unfortunately, i'm done answering," and they came forward, jaws open and snapping for his face.

This guy didn't like straight answers, apparently. What he said didn't even make sense, hadn't Mal just said that they didn't have any real problems with anyone? So he was pointedly making stuff worse. And didn't seem to give a hoot about what Donovan wanted. Did it mean this guy was working alone or whether Donovan had given up whatever Charade he'd put on for Simmik? Mal wasn't sure. One last quip though, slightly singsong, The only one doing anything is you. Singular. 

But avoiding the attack wasn't much of an issue. Mal had kept his distance as anyone wary of a potentially villain would. Mal wasn't here for a fight, he just wanted to find his packmate. Sticking around wasn't worth it. Leggier and lighter of the two, he was quick to bound off along a different path through the foothills. But Mal's expression wasn't one of fear as he turned away. Why would someone be afraid of a psycho doing something expected of them? Plotting would have been far more frightening than just some unstable punk being a bully.

He needed to find Cupid. And give some thought for what just happened.

sorry for the delay! gonna go ahead and archive this :)

already coming towards him by the time he turned to run, renard loped after him for a few minutes. he had the distance; renard had plenty of experience following people who didn't want to be caught through woods more tangled than these, and whatever he thought he knew, they weren't inclined to pause mid-chase. instead they moved up as close behind him as they could get, directing a couple of snaps at his fleeing tail and hind legs, before they broke away, unhurried, to let him vanish over the mountainside.

all they needed was a little incentive. the destroyed eye was more than renard had intended, even, but they were by no means upset. they'd been itching for something that wasn't a spar. he could even come to complain to donovan if he wanted, though the idea was laughable – the sunspire was very close to saints territory, after all. either way this panned out – someone finally making good on the tensions, or a little target practice – was fine with them.