Black Morass i've been looking all over the place for a place for me
and i'm wondering who could be writing this song?
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Ooc — mercury
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#1
All Welcome 
special consideration to Saints (@Kynareth Deagon, @Derg, @Nyra) but AW

how in god's name had he wound up here?

cam had split from ziggy a few days after they'd located their sister. as tempting as it was to remain with his siblings, they had never been connected at the hip—and his home was neverwinter forest. he had to return, especially given everything that had been brewing.

now, though, he was completely and utterly lost. the shadowy boy wandered through the swamp, growing more troubled with each step. any scents were masked by the overwhelmingly fetid stench here. the mud was frozen and slick; his pads were weary, cold.

in a word, it was miserable. he had to get home. and so he sent up a howl to anyone that might find themselves in this dreadful place. a plaintive call, a wordless cry—

help me out! help me home!
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Ooc — Liv
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#2
Almost as if literally summoned from the depths (She wasn't. Just fortunate enough to be in the immediate area) Nyra ducked under the seemingly dead leaves of a low hanging swamp tree branch, fiery eyes looking at their unfortunate stranger with wary curiosity as she prowled closer. 

"Need some help?" The Harbinger asked, almost sounding bored, though she wasn't really. More often than not though, most wolves stayed away from the valley enclosing the Morass and the immediate territories around the Strath. It was a treat nowadays to find someone who wasn't a Saint so close by. 
"You look miserable." Nyra pointed out rather uselessly, given that it was winter and the swamp was a shit ton colder due to the season.
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and i'm wondering who could be writing this song?
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#3
the pale behemoth that soon emerged scared hell out of him. cam jumped at her appearance, swallowing and attempting to compose himself. he had asked for it, anyway. not as if he could be picky when asking for help in a completely unfamiliar land.

i'm lost, the young man admitted. i am miserable. what is this place—do you live here? he added incredulously. he couldn't imagine anyone choosing this place, and especially her. there was no way her white pelt blended in to the muck at all, and she was quite large. even lithe cam had trouble picking his way through the swamp.

but maybe it was her home. . .in which case, she could be a great help. what's the quickest way out of here; do you know? he was more than ready to see open air and sunlight once more.
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"The quickest way out is roughly northeast, following the main river back up to the Sweep just outside the mountains." Nyra answered, picking her way past him to point with her muzzle the direction she was talking about. The tips of the mountains just barely peeking over the tops of the swamp.
"I'll escort you back to your home myself, if we're not stopped by my alphas." She stated with a low grumble, turning to look at him, expecting him to follow.
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and i'm wondering who could be writing this song?
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#5
oh—that was easy. given her stature and somewhat gruff demeanor, he hadn't expected her to help. . .at least not so readily. cam seized the chance to get out with alacrity, following after her, nimble paws dodging all manner of thorn and thicket and muck.

thank you, he said gratefully, then his ears cupped forward as he remembered her last statement. wait, why would they stop us?

that seemed rather strange. they were on neutral ground, after all (he'd smelled quite deeply to make sure! no risking another moonspear incident, after all) and he couldn't imagine mal being so forward in a situation where he was leading a lost soul to safety. maybe they did things differently around here.

what's your pack called? cam asked, casual but curious.
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#6
She said nothing at first, aside from a low grunt to acknowledge his words.
Why would they be stopped? 
"Kynareth isn't well liked. He tends to be more intimidating to others than myself, and he doesn't play nice all the time with wolves not of the Saints. That's what my pack is called...the Saints." She assumed the stranger would piece it together fairly quickly. The Saints of the Dying Light. 
"Rest assured though, I'm not like my Grandmaster. Now, where's home?" Nyra looked at the man again, pausing briefly in stride so they could walk shouldee to shoulder. 
"Or are you looking for a new home?" She asked with curiosity, genuine interest in her fiery hues.
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Kynareth hears the call at his borders. His eyes squinting at the nature of the whiney howl he wastes no times making himself known to the mystery of the presence.

Though upon arrival, he realizes that they are not part mystery now. He’s not necessarily angry, but his face rests in a light scowl even though he doesn’t quite realize it. Heavy paws thump on the ground as his massive forms approaches, seeing a smaller male of deep blacks. He’d heard him and Nyra speaking, even catching the tail end of some of her words. 

He moves in to greet them casually. “What’s going on here?” He asks first of all.
and i'm wondering who could be writing this song?
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#8
the saints. wasn't that one of the packs others talked about in neverwinter forest? that they had really no good things to say about? sometimes it paid to be ignorant, but in this case, cam rued that he hadn't been more attentive to the political goings-on of his pack. head always in the clouds. . .

but better safe than sorry. i live in a forest. . .northeast of here? i think. . . at least, it was that way when i wasn't lost in the swamp, he grumbled, and was about to explain further (without divulging his pack's name, of course) when they were interrupted.

another huge wolf. was this the 'grandmaster' the woman spoke of? he clammed up, letting her do the talking. for the first time in the interaction, true fear began to lift the hairs along his spine. he suddenly felt cornered.
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#9
Hearing Kyn coming just before he arrived, she noted his lightly soured expression...unintentional? She doesn't know. 
But he asks, and she beams cruelly at his question "Lord Kynareth." Nyra greeted, "He's lost." She answered smoothly, motioning lightly with her nose to the black male at her side. 
"I'm just helping him out a bit. This swamp is a horribly cold place in the winter, and we wouldn't want him to die here, would we?" She offered a wink only her Grandmaster could see. "Just gonna point him in the right direction, if that's alright?" 
She leveled her gaze to Donovan's, an eerily silent communication meant for just him of:
 What's your call? Do we want to risk getting in deeper shit with another pack by killing him? 

Though Nyra wasn't sure if the black stranger wouldn't be keen to the silent message or not
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Kynareth internally preens at the flagrant Lord Nyra adds. Though it is the correct way to address him, he’s not a stickler for titles with the members of his pack. He’d rather they see him in a less professional manner, he wants them to be comfortable and loyal to him if anything.

Yet, he listens silently as she explains that this stranger is lost. His face stoic until she winks at him and he can’t help the sly smile that makes his face do a complete 180. A low rumbling chuckle slips from his throat and it eventually becomes a comfortable, open mouthed laugh as he looks to their company. 

“I see.” He hums then, laugh dying out pleasantly. The smallest of smiles keeps his lips slightly tilted upwards as he speaks. “You’re lost.”

He steps only a hairs breath closer to him. Not to necessarily be intimidating as his demeanor is still fairly casual. “What pack are you from? If you’re from one at all.” Then his eyes crinkle as he offers him a winning smile that contorts his face handsomely. “Don’t lie. I’ll find out eventually.” Comes his low attractive hum of a voice even though his words are a thinly veiled threat.
and i'm wondering who could be writing this song?
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#11
it was mostly their size, but the two made him nervous. he was diminutive and quiet before them, a mouse among lions. they spoke to each other briefly before the man addressed cam directly; he swallowed. not much of a veiled threat, that—particularly if the saints had the reputation they did in neverwinter forest.

elysium, he said automatically. what was he doing? cam had never been much of a liar. he'd really never made a habit of it. 

but it wasn't just him, now. he had the wolves of his pack to think about. and if he were somehow responsible for putting them in danger, he'd never forgive himself. it's a willow forest, cam added helpfully, several days' travel from here. i can find my way, once i get out of this swamp.

hopefully, anyway.
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#12
Nyra stayed silent for the most part, looking back to Kynareth as the sooty male spoke of where he belonged to. 
Narrowing her eyes some, the Harbinger side glanced Cam, adjusting her stance some in case an attack needed to be made. 

Not likely, but sometimes cruel fun was to be had.
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#13
Kynareth wouldn’t know if he was lying or not anyhow. He doesn’t get around too much. Who knows, there could be some backwoods pack that just popped up carrying that name as their own. Though, he knows he’s never heard of any pack in the area named that. Standing there and flipping through his mental notebook of all the packs names he knows of he hums in contemplation then.

His smile his completely gone at this point as he stands as still as a statue, hawkish eyes staring at him. He squints them after a few second and languidly stalks closer to the dark male. 

“Is this a new pack? What are your numbers?” He asks lowly with that attractive hum he is known to use, moving to circle his way behind him. 

Kynareth could let him go and allow Nyra to lead him out of the swamp, but what’s the fun in that. He’s presented with an opportunity to tease the poor wolf. So why wouldn’t he? Though Donovan has no malicious intent, the smaller probably couldn’t tell.
and i'm wondering who could be writing this song?
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#14
he grew more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment. and when the big man left his periphery to stalk behind, cam could have fainted on the spot. nevertheless, trembling slightly, he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to force out words.

no, we've been around for a while, he responded. numbers? ah, it depends. there's my mum, my dad, my siblings, and olive and seabreeze and their children, and a few others. . .and sometimes wolves come to stay for a while when they're injured. . .

the lie was taking him back in time. an unexpected wave of nostalgia overtook him; he felt his knees buckle slightly, though it was surely compounded by fear. 

there was a swamp outside the willows. not like this. . .not nearly as dense.

god, he wished he could run back there now. he wished he could bury his face in his mother's night-black fur and forget it all.

it's far from here, so i really need to find my way out of this swamp, cam reiterated, eyes flickering to the woman. she'd promised to help him. couldn't they get going, now?
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As Cam answers shakily and moves his gaze to her own, Nyra feels some small margin of pity, of a remembrance to the promise she made the kid. 

"It's your call, Kynareth." Nyra answered, looking to her Grandmaster with a newfound earnest. 
A silent message she hoped Donovan would catch: He's a kid. Tease him all we want... "He will remember the kindness." She finished audibly, an indirect plea to let her keep her promise to Cam.
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Donovan can see how scared he is. Or at least feel it. There’s no way Nyra doesn’t too, but by the way she looks at him she does. Pity in her coingold gaze, Donovan meets her eyes and smiles. It’s not a sweet one though, it’s a smirk. 

Then he’s turning his attention down to the smaller male once more. “Hmm. Not bad. It seems you’ve fooled me for now.” He states indifferently, leaning his head down to level with his back. At this point he truly does believe him, he only wants to tease. His smirk is devilish though as he slides his gaze down to the dark wolf. “If I ever find out you’re lying I might have to eat ya though.” He says, surprisingly saying the last three words louder as he plants a little nip to the others hip. 

A loud laugh escapes him then, surely he had to have spooked him a bit. Though just as quickly as he did it, he’s brushing past him to stand next to his Harbinger once more. “You’re free to go, peaches. You two be on your way.” He hums teasingly, hawkish eyes eyeing the male devilishly.
and i'm wondering who could be writing this song?
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#17
and then, deliberation. he stood rooted in place, almost too nervous to breathe. when it seemed that kynareth had given them the green light, cam exhaled, ribs collapsing—and then flinched as the man nips his flank. memories arced through his mind like white lightning—

the dark wolves on the prowl, the chase, the hunt, the sharp pain in his side—

he desperately summoned some composure, nodding with near-chattering teeth. thank you, he managed, blinking with gratitude at the man, and then looked at the white wolf once more. get me out of here! his brain was screaming, and he was sure it read in his eyes.

he stood at the ready, waiting for her to lead the way and clinging to the hope of being a thousand miles removed from these behemoths.
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Ooc — Liv
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gonna leave room for a potential time skip or some conversation :> whichever you like! 

Nyra let her Grandmaster do his thing. Then, dipped her head gratefully to Kynareth as he released them with his usual teases and devilish words. 
"Let's go." The Harbinger gestured lightly with her head for Cam to follow, giving one last look to Donovan, then, leading the poor kid out of the swamp.
Once they eventually got to the outside edge of the Sweep, she'd let him flee as fast as he wanted to without chase.
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