Hideaway Strath IV
#1
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The unrelenting slant of snowfall stymied Ego’s progress as he sought to escape the unsullied southwest; farther than he had ever intended to travel in the first place.
 
He moved forward blindly, and at a snail’s pace, keeping his head down as he tried to determine an adequate direction. After scouring the Hinterland mountains for the foundation of his own legacy, for a place he was determined to rally his natal family to, all he had to show for his efforts now was a face full of slush. It was humbling, to say the least. He could remember the lay of the lay land from his vantage point days earlier, but his recollection of the aerial view felt almost useless now.
 
Unknowingly, he was steered towards a gap in the mountains, hugging the stone wall with his shoulder as he went. He paused when the rock fell away and he found himself standing halfway out in the open, wondering if he should turn back. Finding no real desire to backtrack, he pressed forward, beginning to loom dangerously close to the blizzard-washed borders of a pack he would have typically avoided…
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#2
BIG EYES
also, she may or may not have injures from the bear fight, so i'm going to be v vague about that stuff for now


The storm was relentless, but she pushed herself along the borders anyway; she had spent more time there since the bear attack and surprisingly, her desire to flee was mostly gone. She was drawn to Kynareth for more reasons than she could understand, and as much as she wanted to see Mal again and assure him that she was okay, she also wanted to stay here and see how much power she could actually gain. She was addicted to the feeling after so long of feeling only shame and weakness over what had happened to her—she couldn't give it up without truly learning of its full reach, nor could she turn from Kynareth as easily as she might have before. 

The wind felt like knives against her cheeks but it also brought the scent of a stranger. This scent was oddly familiar, but in a way she couldn't quite place. She would have investigated anyway, but now she did so with urgency and curiosity rather than hostility. 

When she found him, she couldn't deny there was something familiar about his appearance, as well. It was like she had met him before. She stopped in front of him and gave him a curious look. Have we met before? she asked first, rather than asking any of the acceptable border questions. But she needed to know.
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#3
Derg can be skipped after like 8 hours of no reply lol
 
His wounds were certainly brutal.
The bear had done a number on him. The four gouges ran from near the centre of his crown and across his face above the eye, disappearing where the claws disconnected from his cheek.
The wounds reappeared at the bottom of his neck, missing his vitals, and running down his shaggy shoulder. Arlette had cleaned him up well enough though, the blood cleaned and wounds packed tight with whatever medicine they had.
He was very lucky.

Derg insisted on border patrol, even just for an hour.
Simmik wandered towards them, and he followed at his own pace.
He didn't expect her to greet a stranger. But not a saviour. A refuge seeker.
Derg lingered in the shadows, sinking where he stood in the snow.
Watching.
@Kynareth Deagon was probably following them both too.
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#4
Nyra was also patrolling after the attack, making sure no other unwanted visitors came in.

Instead she saw Simmik, Derg, and another, a stranger. Rushing forward, the Harbinger came up somewhere next to her smaller mirror image, fiery eyes searing the male before her "Who are you, and why are you here?" she rumbled, ears cupped forward to catch the words said. In her mind, if he answered her not, she would chase him off or kill him. 
He would determine his own fate though.
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#5
she may or may not have injuries from a bear fight, so i'm going to be very vague about those for the time being

Edit Reason: added last sentences to make up for post that appeared while I was posting


She was angry, and could not rest despite the weather, adrenaline still pulsed through her veins, things had come into the pack lands. Maybe the snow marred her scent markers, maybe these others just didn’t care but either way it was her job to keep her pack lands safe, and so despite the unrelenting snow she found herself trudging through the territory she had to freshen up the border markings.

It was not long before she came across a loner, and not just a loner but the captive to close to the borders was she trying to make an escape? Whrist would find out in short order if the grandmaster wanted this captive then he’d have her, on silver platter if the black femme had anything to say about it..  
 
Whrist stalked toward the pair and it was only then she glanced in the direction of the blade with a huff she nodded allowing some anger to ease, it least the captive hadn’t been completely loose to it’s own devices.

Her blackened lips lifted to show the pearly whites that seemed even more white against the darkness of her pelt. Her white blue eyes looked him over this wolf assessing him and his physique for a fight. She needed an outlet for her adrenaline and this wolf might provide it depending on it's temperament. A wolf; she could take on, alone if need be. And that was sounding more and more enticing.

Whrist did not attack, yet, the blade was nearby and did not seem interested in a fight but that didn’t matter to her, if this one was the least bit suspicious it would leave a pound of flesh behind as it was ousted from the pack territory.

Her lips relaxed only a little as she spoke, keeping her teeth visible announcing each word lifting her perfectly black tail carefully high.  “Who are you?, why are you here?

She came in at a different angle then the white harbrnger and so did not see her until their words echoed almost at the same time.
Her eyes flitted to Nyra, and inwardly gimmaced though her facical expression did not change. Her White blue then bored into the loner waiting for the demanded answers.
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#6
Kynareth’s paws take him ever closer to Simmik’s scent. He won’t lie when he says he’s a bit worried. The scent drifting closer and closer to the edge of their borders, trying to keep the thought of her escaping to them back forth his mind he trudges on in order to find her. 

Upon arrival, he visibly sighs; she’s still here, but she’s speaks to some odd stranger. Another one. Too many wolves have been visiting their borders and whatever happiness he felt is washed away. A scowl coming to his face as he notices he’s late to the party. A few others standing beside her as they question him. 

Sidling up to stop beside Simmik he stays silent. They’ve already asked the questions, so now he waits for an answer. One can probably see the sour expression that makes up his handsome face, he’s not happy about all the wanderers.
#7
Sorry for the length, mi amors! Thanks for joining

Through the blinding white materialized a solid figure: a winter wolf, with eyes he knew. Eyes that belonged to The Matriarch, his beloved Takiyok. At first, his tail lifted to wave, as if in recognition, but he faltered, turning rigid as he noted what faint lines of deceit he could find in the storm. This was not his mother. That was not her stride. Nor was that her shape — not around the midsection — that had once been heavy with he and his siblings.

Ego retreated a step, feeling confused. When she had come close enough, she asked if they had met, and the Sandraudiga stared at her like he was surprised by the question. If she thought she recognized him, and so greatly resembled his mother, his brain could only make one inference. I believe so. It clicked even as he said it. His senses narrowed in on her, eager to swallow this memory whole — the very moment he had found his only sister. He opened his mouth to speak her name, to tell her his, yet the reunion was cut dramatically short, with nary an emotion shared between them.

The loner transformed into a vault, his expression steeling completely to the presence of strangers. He had yet to notice the one hanging back in the hard snowfall, though Ego did not fail to note the she-wolves that were converging on him from either side; oppositely colored but similarly demanding. He did not shrink from them, and remained carefully guarded, with a slight tuck of his chin and a limp tail, though he did pull his ears back and bow his head, showing appropriate deference to what was clearly a small mob. One that continued to grow.

A more strangely shaped wolf came into view in almost the same moment, its body massive and quite naturally postured above the rest, further solidifying the thought in the back of Ego’s mind that he had stumbled upon an entire pack. My name is Ego, he responded evenly. Having gauged everyone’s general mood and bedraggled appearance, the wolf kept his gaze tactfully lowered. He hadn’t survived as a loner this long without learning how to read a damn room.

I am a traveler, and I apologize if I am too near, I mean no intrusion. He did not speak of his sister or even look at her, as he wasn’t sure if letting them know he knew her would do either of them any good, considering the differences in his reception. I would have steered clear, if I could tell I was approaching a claim, but this unending storm has displaced me. He wondered if they intended to chase him off, and looking at their dour expressions he wouldn’t be surprised if they did, though he paused at this statement to see if they were interested in anything more than a violent encounter.

They had all at least given pause to allow him the chance to speak, but Ego didn’t think that meant much.
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#8
She stared at him curiously for a few moments. When she was about to ask him for more information, they were annoyingly interrupted. It seemed nothing could happen around here without the involvement of the entire pack. Nyra arrived first, pulling a pointed glare from Simmik that was gone as quickly as it was offered. Nyra—always showing up to annoy her. Then the black woman who Simmik refused to call by anything other than bitch—the one who had insinuated with complete acceptance that Simmik might be here to rear pups against her will; the idea disgusted her, even if she knew it was the farthest thing from the truth. Bitch earned a glare from her as well.  She was also interested in why this man wandered near to their territory, but she had no plans of attacking him for it. Derg went unnoticed for now, especially as Kynareth arrived and settled in beside her. She could tell he was less than pleased to have more trouble on their borders, but she got the feeling this stranger had not come here to stir anything up. 

Then the stranger offered his name—Ego. And it all clicked into place; the familiarity, the draw she felt towards him—the stranger before her and the other Saints was her brother, the one she had not seen since they were children. But how was he here? Did he recognize her too?

They were questions that would remain unanswered for now; she needed to protect him. His words were reasonable, but she could hardly listen now. She could tell the wolves around her wanted to make him another macabre ornament on their borders, and there was no way she would allow that to happen. She wondered, then, about the reaches of her power there. The rest of the pack was not aware of the depth of her relationship with Kynareth—the declaration he made her. She knew she had to be careful how she wielded this power, though. She was still on Ky's side, but now she wanted to test how serious he had been when he told her he would do anything for her.

She ignored Whrist and Nyra, save for a watchful glance to each of them to ensure they had not moved closer to Ego. Stepping closer to Kynareth, she brushed lightly against him to get his attention. Then she lifted her gaze up to his, her expression shifting out of its stony mask to something softer she saved for him. Ego is my brother, Ky, she explained. Don't harm him. Anticipating what his next thoughts might be, she added: He can't have known I was here; we haven't seen each other since we were pups. In other words, he wasn't here to rescue her. Even if he was, she was starting to realize that there was a high probability that she wouldn't allow herself to be rescued.
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#9
He watched as they assembled upon the point.
Watching the stranger.
Watching the captive closer, though.
He could see the irritation roll off her: the slight twitch of a tail, the pointed looks and glares.
She wanted freedom.
But no to leave.

What dark spell had Kynareth managed to cast on the woman?

A demand from Whrist. Quiet observation from the others.
Letting Ego explain he was a traveller and his apologies.
Simmik though.
Those eyes tilting to Kynareth, pleading and knowing what she was doing to the brindle Grandmaster.
He flicked an ear, wondering what his ultimate verdict would be.
Many paws made light work, and it would give them leverage to keep Simmik here.
Even if she did tell this Ego and beg him to help her escape.

It wouldn't happen.​
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#10
As the stranger spoke, Nyra watched him closely, and like Derg, watched Simmik even closer. 
Though, it was clear to Nyra the smaller palefur must be trying to build some kind of favoring from the Grandmaster! 
The Harbinger was all too happy to remind Simmik she was a captive. The lowest and absolutely most lacking authority of their numbers.
"And who are you to make demands of Kynareth?Nyra scoffed, stepping a few paces closer to Ego but not entirely looking to maul him.
He seemed honest and humble, and this alone besides Kynareth deterred her, for now, from attacking. 
"Keep in mind, darling, you make up our absolute lowest rank. You have nonexistant authority here." The massive woman continued to Simmik, then Nyra turned her searing gaze back to Ego, still having not moved to injure the intruder.

Unaware of the relationship blossoming between Simmik and Kynareth, Nyra would inevitably be surprised IF the Grandmaster asked her to ease up.
Huge "if" in Nyra's mind.
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#11
Her final decision was made in this thread .

The air was filled with large fluffy white flakes that twisted and spiralled around the ever growing group of wolves, even the collective breathing of the wolves added white mist to the air in deep puffs

The pure night coloured femme’s pearl white teeth slid back home, hiding for the time being, however her white blue eyes narrowed, Whrist did not accept the strangers claim of displacement her tense posture said as much clearly. But it was not her place to drive him out with other higher ranking pack members here, if it were up to her she’d chase him out and keep his tail as her prize.

Her ear twitch toward the next voice that sounded and felt her heart clench, ever so slowly her head shifted and her narrowed eyes moved to the captive, her white teeth just peeking from her maw as her black muzzle wrinkled. Her breaths slowed drastically, puffing into the air in light painstakingly long streams. Her pulse thrummed in her ears  making her miss half of Simmik’s explanation and all of Nyra’s thrum.

Her eyes widened as they moved to the grandmaster her teeth still just slightly visible, her chest so painfully tight she could only breathe if she forced the air from her lungs, “Ky?” She hissed almost inaudibly, a pet name? She knew he was not hers alone, but having that put plain as day in front of her made her want to rip the captives heart out, feed it to her raven and give her pelt to Kynareth to line his den with, after Whrist pissed on it of course.

She had a few choices to make here, and the easiest which was to leave, was hard as her paws felt as heavy as her heart.
The next was to attack the captive, which would not likely go over well, not with Kynareth and Derg here, though Nyra ‘might’ be on her side and she would welcome the white witch’s strength added to her own. Would Nyra help her in front of the Grandmaster? This was looking less the best option.

Another option would be to take her frustration out on the intruder and attack him instead, and that idea was suddenly pleasing, First; She could say she was protecting their captive, that she’d be upsetting Simmik alone was worth the risk
She could hardly be in trouble for attacking a non pack member in THEIR packlands, and there was every real risk he’d steal their captive away, not allowing family stay in the control of others.

She’d never leave what was hers in someone elses paws.
At that thought her eyes narrowed again as her gaze remained upon the grandmaster….. She’d never leave what was hers in someone else paws….

The last option was to attack the grandmaster himself and show him in no uncertain terms her displeasure. She clenched her teeth. No more puffs of air flowed out in front of her and heart beat rapidly.

Her eyes turned to the intruder, also the closest wolf to her, She snarled “YOU! WILL! NOT! HAVE! H….RRRRR” the last word becoming an unintelligible roar, almost a new trade mark Whrist battle cry, and she was lunging before her sentence was finished she was not going for a killing strike she just wanted to connect with any flesh her maw was wide as she closed the distance between them almost instantly.
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#12
Roll for Don to grab Whrist here!

Kynareth has a lot on his plate all of a sudden. First he addresses this stranger. He speaks humbly and respectfully, so Donovan doesn’t mind him as much. Yet, as he feels Simmik’s presence come closer he leans his head down to hear what she has to say to him. His eyes only briefly flick over to Simmik before training them on the male before; the one who is apparently her brother.

At this point he is willing to let him slide. He’s already made the decision to spare his life due to Simmik’s careful words whispered in his ever listening ears. Her silky voice causes him to flick his auds down to her and he hums simply in acknowledgment. 

He’s about to speak to the loner when Nyra’s voice causes him to meet her with his eyes. A brisk And who are you to make demands of Kynareth? He already knows shits about to fly off the handle. Knowing Simmik will not take kindly to being treated like that. Yet he has no time to say anything before she righteously continues. An era of pride in her step as she slinks around to the stranger.

Donovan appreciates how willing Nyra is to remind others of his rank, with any other wolf he wouldn’t mind. With Simmik though, he does. A light warning scowl appears on his face as he lifts his head tall. “Nyra.” He hums lowly. Not wanting to publicly demean her by saying anything else. He respects her and hopes to show this by only uttering her name. Hoping his dangerous tone can get his message through all by itself. 

All the while, he’s unaware of the shadow loaning behind him. Whrist’s jealously getting the better of her as she watches the scene unfold. Distracted by his Harbinger he doesn’t notice the black blur of Whrist’s form sprinting towards Ego until her scream reaches his auds. Snapping his head in the direction of the chaos he watches as she’s lunging herself at him, teeth surely going in for bite. 

His eyes are humorously relaxed and he only sighs. A single Fuck. is all that passes through his mind. It all happens so fast and he already knows Simmik is probably going to throw herself into the mix. He cannot let that happen. 

He’s stepping in front of Simmik, eyes still trained on the pair who are about to fight. “Don’t move, please. I’ll handle it.” He says lowly, a promise in his voice. Words meant only for her to hear. 

Hoping Simmik trusts him enough to heed his words, he’s stepping up to move past Nyra calmly. “If you join, you’re getting demoted.” He growls to Nyra then. “Stay there.” Is his next order, there’s no room for her to disobey and it shows in his viscous tone of voice.

Finally, his cool demeanor is gone. Rushing into the fight, flinging himself into the mix. His teeth bared as he kicks up snow moving to snatch his teeth onto Whrist’s scruff. His bite isn’t hard enough to break skin, only to grab and hold. His  intentions are to ram her off of the midnight intruder before she does any real damage. If luck has it he will be able to pin her, if not then so be it. He would stare down at her, a classic battle of domination among wolves. His boxy maw wrinkled up but only barely showing his teeth. A silent plea for Whrist to calm down in his golden eyes.
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#13
Ooh, what was this?

Ambrosia arrived just in time to watch as the chaos broke free. She had missed all of the juicy details regarding what exactly was going on, but it was clear some sort of drama was brewing. As her orange eyes searched the scene, the woman realized she had absolutely no clue who half of the wolves involved where. They mostly consisted of white or black pelts, which was such a great form of identification.

For now she stood back, refusing to become involved in the mess. The she-wolf had already been through enough trouble within the past few weeks, so there was no reason to add shit on top of more shit. Then she'd just end up with a shit pile. A pile of shit. Aka, she'd end up with a Kynareth.

But that didn't stop her from shooting some snarky comments into the mix. Unlike Nyra, Ambrosia had nothing to lose. No position, no relationships. And she knew for a fact that Kynareth wouldn't dare threaten her life.

It truly was an entertaining sight however. Three, four, five, however many wolves drooling over the tiger. If only these simps knew what a real man looked like. Oh, what Ambrosia would give to see them chase after her dead husband only to cry at the realization that he was taken. Too bad he was fucking dead. They can thank Sasha for that.

"Oh get a room you four. Clearly Donnie boy here has a type. His type being, anything that breathes."

The woman wasn't usually this sarcastic and playful, but the opportunity was way too good to pass up. And yet Ambrosia still felt a hint of self hatred. It was clear that Kynareth had a thing for warm-colored eyes. Gosh, if only she had those fucking green eyes she had always wanted. Thanks, Dad. Love the genes.
#14
As he wisely avoided the congregated gazes before him, for a brief moment, Ego noticed the heavily scarred figure who stood aloof of them all. He tried not to feel envious of the wolf’s position, as he had found little use for any wishful thinking in his time wandering, and this time was no different. There were more pressing issues at hand, like the dynamics unfolding before him.

He glanced up as he saw his sister’s legs move first, sidling up to the brindled beast whose face he dared not observe. His ears flickered to catch her words, and he picked his head up slightly as she claimed him as her brother. Ego’s impassivity melted slightly as he gazed towards her, his breast swelling with pride and kinship.

He wanted desperately to be alone with her, have a proper reunion, but his next inhale was made cold by comparison, as the white viper of a she-wolf prowled closer. He couldn’t stop himself from looking surprised at her words, trying to reconcile them with what he thought he had known about Simmik’s pack life. The absolute lowest ranked here? Why would she rather live as an underappreciated grunt, than return to Stag and mother, or be on her own, as he had chosen? Had she turned out that differently from him? If he had been able to observe his sister’s facial expressions he could have guessed at an answer, but Ego felt only confused.

His expression hardened into a furrow, remaining silent. He was most aware of the pale dread’s nearness to him, but hers was a cool fury, languid and steady. It was nothing compared to the chaotic energy rolling off the hateful shade on his other side. She was too rigid, too manic with her focus. From the corner of his eye, he watched the dark shape of her until it became clear that she required his whole attention. Ego’s body stiffened when she turned on him.

He jerked backwards as the she-bitch lunged, and he felt her teeth clamp down millimeters from his flesh. The wyvern snarled in response, as the fur from the front of his right shoulder was essentially waxed off, leaving him with a noticeable bald spot. Had it not been for her crazed caterwauling, he might have not found himself so lucky, but as things were, Ego had been given enough warning to react in time to save his skin.

From the first bite, anyway.

The trigger-happy shadow, uncontrolled and in desperate need of a tighter leash, was not likely to let the loner escape from her that easily. Ego backpedaled, knowing that he was outnumbered, but reflex caused him to parry his attacker as he went, attempting to get away with the rest of his hide intact. Their teeth met in a vicious clash, before he felt his lip tear beneath her slicing teeth, even as he tried to tattoo her with his own fangs.

The only advantage he had, perhaps his only saving grace, was his size. She could not overpower him in any fast manner — not by herself — despite her wild aggression and potent desperation. And Ego’s will to live was much more powerful than her pathetically savage whims; even if she was quite a hellion to meet jaw-to-jaw.

Then, the wanderer felt, but did not see, a great force rushing forward. His instinct was to immediately detach, and risk an assault on his hindquarters to escape a killing dogpile, but as he wrenched himself away from the dark blight, he saw the thundering mutation take aim for the assailant instead. Ego absconded several bounds away from the crowd, carried by impulse and bleeding steadily at the mouth, but he paused to look back as his lizard brain flickered off long enough for him to realize he had been saved, not doubled down on.

Remaining half-cocked to take off, he looked for the source of strife among them, and found the young queen, Monarch, with his gaze of silvered-gold. He hesitated to leave. He knew he wanted her back, but what did she want? Her brother was no coward — he would stay, just to be near her, if he could — but was this a chance to be with her, or was it only a chance to save his own skin? Ego grimaced, waiting to find out.
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#15
She remained unaware of the perceptive former Overseer—unaware of his presence as well as his astute judgement of what exactly had just transpired between her and Kynareth. 

Of course Nyra had something demeaning to say to her. It only made Simmik smile, though, because she knew the reality of the situation, and the Harbinger did not. She was not only trying to keep her brother from harm, but she was also testing Ky to see if he was as willing to be true to his word in front of half the pack. He did not disappoint. With one word, dripping in authority, he put the annoying woman in her place, and Simmik couldn't help bu raise a smug eyebrow at her—taunting her because she knew she could, and because she liked how it felt. 

The other thorn in her side didn't seem to have anything else to say—until she began to yell. The dark wolf sprang forward as she screamed, her aim directed at Ego. Simmik tensed and snarled, her muscles bunching as she prepared to lunge forward and take the woman out; she would not touch her brother. But just as she started to move, she nearly threw herself into the large, familiar form of Kynareth. Her fiery gaze seared into his own for a split second before his whispered request reached her ears. She froze, at first unsure if she could leave Ego's fate up to Kynareth. But then she remembered how he had just reprimanded Nyra for her snide words and misplaced pride. Along with the fact that they had little time to argue over this, she decided to trust him and stayed where she was, ready to spring into action if needed. 

She watched Kynareth step towards Nyra and wield his authority in a way she had never seen before. Because of her request that her brother be left alone, he promised his highest ranking packmate a demotion if she didn't do as he demanded. She was stunned to see his act of loyalty. She might have given Nyra another haughty look had she not been so transfixed by what Kynareth was doing. He quickly moved to snatch the dark woman by her scruff and swiftly ended the fight. Whatever lingering doubts she had regarding how Kynareth actually felt about her were cast away in that moment. She could think of no better way for him to prove that he was serious about his love and his regret for any wrong he had caused her. Her look of surprise slowly shifted into a wickedly pleased smile and her eyes moved between Ky and her least favorite Saint. She felt the power now, and it was an addictive feeling—having this kind of control over others. She wondered how else she could mold this situation, but decided there was already enough for Kynareth to deal with. 

Besides, another voice reached her, and she turned to look upon the woman she had caught arguing with Kynareth. Simmik grinned at her too. Her jealousy was as amusing as it was unnecessary. She had no intention of pushing the woman's buttons, though, because it was then that she realized Ego seemed unsure whether he wanted to stay or run. She ignored any other commotion and stepped gingerly toward her long lost brother. Her expression softened, as she frowned at him. Don't leave, she said softly pleaded. She wanted to know him—where he had gone and what he was doing now. She missed her family. Even if he would only stay a few days, she would be grateful.
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#16
He could see it happening, like watching a fire rise up, up up.
He stood, hobbling towards them with shadows in his eyes.
He was no longer the Overseer. He could rely on respect from them though.
His guiding presence might be enough to slow things down. To prevent what was already happening.

Leigh sauntered up form the shadows, probably feeling the buzz of energy radiating in the frosty air.
Hurling insults at the other women.
He tilted eyes to her, observing. A show of teeth; a warning. He may not be Overseer, but he was still her dominant as a Blade.
Then, before he could shove his nose in and pull Whrist and Nyra away, the darkness swamped over the newcomer with a scream of rage. Kynareth giving orders and stepping in to break up the fight.
He quickened his pace, still hobbling.
And planted himself right beside Simmik.

He could be taken as a guard to stop her running. Or to stop her, too, from becoming dog-meat. Well, if she wasn't already with Kynareth.
She may have power over his feelings, but there was no explanation for the dark magic that made Simmik want to stay.

He watched the fight, watched Ego (though fleetingly) and tilted his gaze to the females Nyra and Leigh. Any trouble and he wouldn't be stoped from preventing a fight despite Nyra's rank.
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#17

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Nyra is a huge bitch
 
Added disclaimer! Nyra is making assumptions about Simmik and being violated BUT doesn't really know about what happened! 


At Donovan saying her own name. Her own FUCKING name, as a warning, Nyra was surprised.

Not as hurt as she would be in a minute though.

Upon seeing Simmik raise a smug brow, Nyra smirked with rivaling smugness in return, and scoffed. Furthering by making it so she could hear her when she said "You're not special, cunt. He's slept with a lot of wolves and loves them all equally. Not just the likes of you. Don't think your rancid vulva is the only one he's after, let alone a special one, sweet cheeks." 
And she made damn sure to sound as airy, bitchy and condescending as possible to Simmik as she said it.
By the time she said it though, Kynareth had LONG since already threatened her with a demotion if she joined the physical fray as Whrist threw herself at Ego. 
 
So, she stayed put as she was ordered, but she also pulled a most likely irreversible card by saying her next words with metal-melting, searing cruelty to her smaller mirror image "I'd say you should watch your back, but there's clearly already someone who pile-drove into it. Probably didn't even violate you like it seems you'd claim he did. And there's another who's working up to fucking you too, but you know that already, don't you?" Nyra wore a cruel Cheshire grin as she purred her words for only Simmik to hear, a grin that was also with fully bared teeth and murderous intent weaved in with big, bold letters. 

She still didn't move.
But, she'd sure as shit gladly rip Simmik's throat out if the smug cur moved to attack her. 

By the time she was done slashing at Simmik verbally, Derg was coming closer. Leigh's comment was lost to Nyra, for she was speaking when Leigh did. 

Nyra was not sorry, and would never be sorry.
Especially if she was the one to make the life leave Simmik's eyes for good. 

With a dismissively sharp snort, she seared one last glare of masked hurt toward her Grandmaster. One that would stay present until he met her eyes whenever, after he had neutralized Whrist. 

Anger was a cruel master, one she needed to usurp. But right now, it had its talons in her deep, and she was bloodlusting.
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#18
sorry so short guys.. my copy and paste I missed my last paragraph

Emotions were rampant in Whrist’s fragile psyche in order to seize control she was almost blind in her rage, her target was unimportant all she wanted was blood. She wanted to crush the life from something, she wanted something to feel the struggle for life as she squeezed the very essence from a body. But it was not to be, she got a mouthful of fur and as she she snuggled to spit it out, she get a mouthful of teeth and bleeding gums for her effort.

It was then she was blindsided and bulldozed and yet she was held upright as familiar teeth clamped into her ruff. Her paws scrabbled and looked for purchase under the snow, each of her harsh panting breaths painted more of the snow below her with red droplets, as it turned out her tongue was also bleeding the those bled like a sieve, as she licked her lips she spread blood across her maw and more blood marred the snow below her.

Whrist’s body was tense and legs trembled with stress and but soon she held still below his jaws, though this was nothing like the other times he had held her, her body still knew him, knew his scent and responded to him even if her mind refused to listen. Her body knew those teeth but she was pissed at their owner.

NO! she was pissed at the white wolf, they were the cause of all the pain in the world, this white bitch was just like all the other white wolves now long dead. Her white blue glare turned bored though Simmik's body even as she was held, though she saw nothing but white fur and a enemy that needed to be dealt with.

Her ears did not hear, and in her current state she'd never be able to focus, but if she had been able to understand what Nyra had said she would have kissed that white witch herself. Nyra’s attacks were sharper then fang and more insidious. Whrist was young and had a thing or two to learn, that is if she lived long enough.
Take your time, [Image: cd8fe6534b017c725839ace0d9b274b3_w200.webp] Just don't waste mine
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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Ooc — Malia
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#19
Kynareth’s not really all too aware of the vicious words spilling from Nyra’s mouth. In the wake of all the commotion and chaos he can vaguely hear her voice, but ultimately he has other things to concentrate harder on.

Surprisingly enough, or perhaps not, Whrist goes down fairly easy. She doesn’t seem to fight him as he hovers over her pitch black form. Any teeth he was previously bearing are sheathed, but he never moves. 

Deciding to look her dead in the eyes, he whispers down to her. “We’ll speak of this later.” Is all he hums. His voice a low, attractive murmur in the space between them. Though his tone isn’t necessarily suggestive, it is more authoritative if anything.

“Now please get up. If you pounce again, the consequences will be worse, dear.” He hums in the same motion as he steps off of her.

Now demanding the full attention of everyone present, he gazes around. Seeing that Ego hasn’t fled he categorizes this as a win for deescalating the situation. Little does he know of the words just whispered to Simmik, it would probably go a bit differently. 

“Everyone back away from them and allow her to speak with her brother in peace.” He says just a pitch lower than a yell. Authority in his voice as he demands them to scatter.
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Ooc — Leigh
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She couldn't blame them. They didn't know Ambrosia or her motives. But regardless of knowledge, they were wrong to believe the woman was jealous.

The she-wolf wasn't the slighest bit envious. There was a time where she may have hoped for Kynareth's attention, but her desire to be loved wasn't severe enough to warrant a fight. And now that their relationship had since broken, Ambrosia had long buried the dream of finding companionship. She'd simply wait until the day she could return to her family, and nothing would get in the way of that. The woman knew for a fact that she'd never fall in love again.

Ambrosia had only just arrived, and the exact details were difficult to pick out from the conflict. From what she could tell, it was mainly a fight over Kynareth's ass. Interesting to watch, but not interesting enough to interfere with. For now she'd sit back and watch the drama play out. Besides, if she refrained from offering a solution, the entertainment would last longer.

It was unlikely Kynareth had even noticed her. The she-wolf remained seated quite a distance away from the action. Close enough to engage in conversation, but far enough to not be confused as a participant. And despite the tiger's annoucement to scatter, she only continued to watch the scene. Ambrosia posed no threat, nor did she plan on interjecting. But she wanted to gather as many juicy details as possible.

The more details, the easier it'd be to read, learn about, and manipulate her peers. The woman was never the type to have evil intentions, but according to her alpha, this was a wolf eat wolf world. She'd need to survive, and this is how she knew to do so. Her fighting days were long over, cast away into history. Now her joints were sore and her pelt was decorated with scars. But that didn't mean she didn't have any weapon at her disposal. Evil? No. But Ambrosia was indeed a dishonorable, manipulative, and impatient wolf.

Ever since her own drama had faded, there was little to do. Her dark fur only blended into the shadows where she watched the world play out in front of her. However, the world was always changing. She'd have another chance to share the spotlight, and this time, she was no cinnamon roll. Not that she had ever been to begin with.