Cedar Sweep If it's true
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All Welcome 
Spring had begun to give the world back its bit of lustre, but it had done no such thing for Oryx yet, who had weathered the winter with mild success, though she survived only as well as any lone wolf might. She fed on scavenged food or small prey, and spent most nights sleeping somewhere that was little more than a wolf-sized indent in a snowbank or a tree well. Given her skills as a medic she had been able to treat any wounds she got along the way, whether it was the mild sprain of her ankle she'd gotten while chasing a jackrabbit, or the variety of scrapes and scratches she got. The usual wear-and-tear of life. 

But she fretted and fussed when she caught what she thought was a very familiar scent. And while the memory of living in Easthollow made her panic, she held a great deal of fondness for the pale, scar-faced woman who had been through so much. But why would her scent have come this far South? Oryx had thought that she might be safe, hunting in the Cedar Sweep both for food and for willow bark, without having to cross paths with any wolf who had known her. But now, she was not so sure. Part of her wanted to follow the female's trail to see where it led- but she felt certain that Arlette would likely still be amongst her family- and given the fact that the Oryx had fled when they had been attacked...She doubted very much that they would ever want to see her again.
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The Saint makes his rounds for patrol, as he usually does. He decides to venture further to cedar sweep. The Saints are greedy and hostile, they want as much land as they can get. So he stakes his claim over the lands anyway. Large paws thump against the slowly prospering grass, he’s so ready for spring, but he’s not looking forward to his coat shedding. He always looks wretched, especially since his coat is so dense in the colder months. 

So along his borders he goes and what does he see? A visitor. Instantly his whiskered lips are tilting up slyly. Oh, he’s bored and he’s been delivered company. How fun. The thought of terrorizing this newcomer pleases him and he finds himself drifting closer to their presence. Coingold eyes rake over their form and he attempts to sniff to catch whiff of their gender, but it seems he’s upwind. Which means they’d notice him easily. Jus dying by their looks, he suspects female, but one can never be so sure. Despite that, he takes his time meandering on over. He’s entertained just by looking at them. Their coat is absolutely stunning, a sleek midnight black that peppers into white along their shoulders. Then he sees those striking blue eyes and his smile tilts up even further. Oh, they’re a looker too. He’d have fun shooting his shot and flirting with the attractive wolf, he doesn’t care what gender they are.

So finally he’s within sight, head held comfortably high with short auds facing their direction. His smirk contorts his face handsomely as he sets golden twin orbs on the other. He’s not trying to be sneaky, he doesn’t want to spook them too much. So he chuffs you let his presence be known if they hadn’t already smelt and seen him. 

His eyes glimmer with promiscuous curiosity as he approaches. Stopping a comfortable distance away he raises a singular cream brow at them. He’s close enough to smell now and he can’t help but laugh when he realizes they’re a she-wolf. It only makes this more fun.

So finally he speaks, his voice hold an attractive base, but it’s light and casual — almost teasing.Oh? Who do we have here? Have you come to pay the Saints a visit, darling?” 
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By the time Oryx caught the scent of the male, and had begun to slink in the opposite direction, it was already likely too late for her to get away unnoticed. She avoided gazing into the distance, as though to will the other to simply turn and leave her be; any attention, for Oryx, was often unwanted attention, and so keen were the eyes that watched her from a distance that she could feel them sifting though the fur of her nape, running along the curve of her spine. 

When at last she turned to cast her bewildered gaze in his direction she noted first his size, and second the build and shape of him. He dwarfed her, which made her shrink all the more to know how easily she could potentially be overpowered. She'd scented wolves in this area, but not scent markings. She was certain now that she'd caught Arlette's scent, but this male was not one of the wolves from Easthollow. He was a giant, like Greyback- but something glinted in those lantern eyes that made her feel as though she was coming unravelled in front of him, against her will. But Oryx was a submissive creature- and while she remained ready to sprint away if he moved too suddenly, she crouched and hid her tail between her hind legs as a show of deference, hoping that might appease him. 

The term of endearment caused the fur along her nape to prickle. And the word he'd spoken; Saints- had she heard it before? She could only recall the word Ursus in relation to a pack that was dangerous, little else. She'd blocked out what she could. 

He'd asked her a question, so she answered in a high voice that was little more than a peep. "I thought...I smelled my friend nearby."
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He can tell his attention is unwarranted. It only makes him want to mess with her even more. He’s a devious, sly creature of simple tastes and what he wants right now is entertainment. So entertainment he will make for himself, at this beautiful she-wolf’s expense. Poor girl; lucky him.

She doesn’t seem to recognize him, so that’s good. Or bad. Maybe it would be more fun if she did. He’d be ready to handle the ‘Oh my gosh you’re a Saint. Ya’ll are so horrible’ but he feels that he won’t get that from her. Which is both disappointing and satisfying all at once.

So the Grandmaster hums when he sees her finally acknowledge his presence. She’s horribly submissive, she seems frightened. Good, she should be. Though, the brindle giant is in a fair mood today, so he doesn’t plan on hurting her or frightening her too bad. He just wants to play. His sunbeam orbs flick to her tucked tail and he raises his brows at her submissive display as if he’s entertained just by watching her do such a simple gesture out of fear. He’s a simple man, he takes pleasure in the little things and the way she crouches low for him and acknowledges him above her satisfies him. 

He listens to her meek voice and he chuckles at her statement. “Relax.” He tells her easily — casually. “I’m not going to bite,” A comical pause as he watches her mischievously. “unless you want me too, of course.” He jests before continuing. 

Kyn even takes a few steps closer and lazily leans his his hip on a nearby tree. He seems carefree and it shows by his laidback attitude. “What friend would that be?” He asks with a tilt of his head and a smirk on his lips. “Give me a name. I might know ‘em.” He offers to quell her anxieties, even though he’s sure it would do no such thing.
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Was he offering honest reassurance? She tilted her head up the slightest bit- but in not knowing the glisten of his eyes or the way his mouth might betray him, Oryx couldn't be sure if he was merely pulling her along on a thread, or if he honestly meant her no harm. The small damsel had seen more of the former- wolves who might use sweetness and charm to beguile a lone creature such as herself into a false sense of security but still...There was something that could have been reassuring about him. The dark, velveteen tones of his voice, the shameless strength he possessed, and how it made him mightier all for knowing that he was capable of destroying a little ragdoll such as herself without even raising his heartbeat. But perhaps it was the fact that he hadn't made any hostile moves, in spite of his potential, that led her to be at least mildly calmed, and willing to speak. 

"Her," She began, and she swallowed. Should she be giving her friend's name? Or had something happened to her? But....There had been no trace of blood, no signs of a struggle, no reason for Oryx to believe that any harm had become of her. "Her name is Arlette."
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Not me writing a long ass post and then accidentally restarting my phone and losing all of it. :’>

The Grandmaster sees the gears turning in that cute little head of hers and it has him smiling. She’s contemplating, he can see it. To trust or not to trust this strange, large, wolf-dog she only just met. She probably shouldn’t trust him. No she definitely shouldn’t. Yet, she’s lucky he’s feeling playful today, or else this conversation would probably be very different. 

So as he watches her, it seems she finally heeds his advice and loosens her body just a tad. She doesn’t get far with him before he already wants to laugh at her. The way she gets one word in and swallows nervously has him wanting to roll his eyes in good humor. Which he only doesn’t do just because he feels it might hurt the poor and woman’s feelings. She’s being a good sport anyhow, so he might take mercy on her. Might.

Then as she finally continues his ear perk forward and his eyes widen a fraction in pleasant surprise. Oh, how lucky of her. He releases a bark of laughter, deadly teeth gleaming as he does so. “I know her. She’s in my pack, sweetheart.” He hums easily, confidence obvious in his voice. If she isn’t aware that he is an alpha then his words should be enough to let her know. 

Then he can’t help but peer at her curiously. “Were you wanting to speak with her?” The brindled man asks then with a cock of a cream brow. “What’s the purpose of this search? Just an old friend?” His tone isn’t interrogating, it’s rather laid back. He genuinely wants to know, if anything to protect Arlette from danger if this shy, little woman is prowling on them on another packs orders. He doubts she is though. She doesn’t seem the type.
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Oh no! I hate when that happens! Your post was lovely regardless!

Something about his raucous laughter nearly made Oryx turn and bolt. He certainly flaunted his comfort, and she wasn't at first if she heard malice rippling amongst the percussive gusts of laughter, or if this was simply how his voice sounded. He had little to no restraint, she thought. A wolf of that size had likely lived a life without having to be considerate and meek just to make sure he'd survive any conflict that broke out; he flaunted a sort of power and authority that she imagined was challenged very little. 

But still, she had been correct about having tracked Arlette and her eyes shone a bit. She felt ashamed of herself for having run off from Easthollow but...That day, with the ambush...She remembered nothing specific. No faces, no scents- otherwise she should have remembered the male before her, with his distinctive build and markings. All she could remember was running away snd doing ber best to block it all out. 

And yet her memory of the kind young woman persisted. She had done what she could for the young woman, who had grieved the loss of both her young love and her young children. She wondered, now, how Arlette had managed to end up here, so far from Easthollow.

"Is she alright?" She asked, her voice lightly pained. Time had passed since she had seen Arlette last but her final memories of the woman were incredibly painful. "I was not searching for her, I simply found her scent, and then you came," She confessed. She did not want him to think that she wanted to trespass in order to see her friend again.
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AAH thank you! :’> <3

Kyn hums thoughtfully when the dark pelaged wolf speaks once more. He almost wants to scare her and maybe lie to her a bit on Arlette’s well-being. Yet, what’s the point in that? Then he sees the point. It would be worth it to see her face when he tells her he’s joking, but he’s sure that she won’t find the jest quite as funny. He has an easy, but rancid sense of humor anyhow. It’s definitely not to everyone’s liking. 

“She’s doing well, if you must know.” He decides not to scare her too bad. “She’s happy and healthy as far as I know.” 

He definitely noticed the way she jumps to defend herself. He smirks when she does. He likes making others feel uncomfortable — scared — in his presence. So all he does is hum softly to acknowledge that he heard her before he can’t help but investigate this woman further. 

“So,” He says conversationally. “You don’t smell of any pack? How did a small one like you get through the winter all by herself?” 
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She was reassured. Yet again, she could sense nothing insincere about the way he spoke of Arlette. And while she did get the feeling that she herself was being judged all the while, whatever thoughts he had of her, he still chose to indulge her. So either she had caught his fancy, or he was indeed a spathetic wolf. Perhaps it was she who had misjudged at him at first; he might have been a bit overwhelming to her, but he had made no sudden or inappropriate moves toward her. His terms of endearment did rub her the wrong way- there was something that felt patronizing about being called something so sweet by a stranger- but none of his words smacked of danger. 

"I am glad to hear that...Thank you," She confessed, her tail relacing just enough to sway at her hocks. 

Between his lips a soft hum- a sound he seemed to make while his thoughts turned. She recognized the habit, and tensed slightly, in anticipation of another personal question, but the one one that came didn't frighten her too much. "I...Require less food than..." She peeped meekly, finishing her statement with a gentle gesture of her muzzle, to indicate him. It wasn't intended as a jab at his size- simply a statement of fact. To look at him, he was solid, tall, well-tended...He would without a doubt require more resources to maintain himself through the winter like that. And while she had survived the winter, her small frame was made thin and hard by having to scavenge or rely only on her own hunting skills.
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Kynareth’s fairly entertained so far. The way she seems so shy and timid makes him only want to taunt her more. Though it seems she appreciates him being a bit more tame than he usually is. Oh, would she fret to see him when he’s being an actual asshole. Which with strangers, is quite often. It seems he has a weak spot for beautiful women though — lucky for her. 

His eyes even flock to her tail as she thanks him for the information gained on her sweet, little friend, Arlette. A less taunting smile graces his lips and he breathes out a soft laugh. Yet, when he’s humming and asking her his next question, she seems more on her toes once more. She seems prepared to flee, he has no doubt she’d be well out of his reach by the time he made it to her if he really wanted to get at her. She’s small, she looks light on her feet and the Grandmaster isn’t afraid to admit to his fee weaknesses. He’s horribly slow, relying on his strength instead. 

He can’t help but laugh again as she motions at him. He does need quite a bit more substance than a wolf of her size would. Yet he can’t help but notice how fragile her gram looks. He would almost call her underfed, while he’s quite obviously the opposite. Even a bit too thick at this point in his life.

So he hums thoughtfully again and cocks his head to her. “You’re not looking for a home, are you?” He asks then. “You can say no, I’m not going to kill you for it.” He teases then, not wanting to put her on the spot. He even moves to drop his haunches to the ground and sit against the tree trunk. Even then, if she’s so intimidated and skittish around him, the Saints might not be a place she’d be able to survive.
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Another hum- which would accompany another personal question. While she might have been considered by some to be too flighty and flinchy, her instincts weren't always hyper-vigilant for no reason. While he sat down, she remained where she was though she'd eased her knees of the pressure of crouching and now merely stood, albeit with her paws splayed enough to whirl her away should she need to dash. 

Her gaze dropped when he noted his assumption that she wasn't begging for hospitality. She wondered if it was so obvious that she did not fit in, and that she sought distance. She felt ashamed of herself. She'd run and had branded herself as a loner, and now even strangers could see it. She didn't speak, but nodded quietly as an acknowledgement  that he'd read her clearly enough.
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The brindle man watches her closely as he sits and asks his question. He takes enjoyment from the way she seems to relax just a bit more. His golden gaze is greedy as he peers over to her, filing away every reaction. She doesn’t answer him with her voice, instead she’s dropping her head in what seems like shame. At that his expression becomes pensive and he wonders why she seems so ashamed of it. Perhaps her past is haunting her. It’s a common enough thing that Kynareth doesn’t feel the need to ask. He’s sure she wouldn’t appreciate it anyhow. She only offers him a soft nod and he responds wordlessly back with a lazy nod of his own massive head.

“You are welcome within my ranks if you so wish.” He finally says. It’s not teasing or malicious in any way. It’s a simple offer. “Though, we are a quite aggressive pack, darling.” He decides to warn her. There’s no need to get her wrapped up in something she wouldn’t be able to handle. “We treat one another as family, but we are not kind to strangers.” Usually, he’s not kind to strangers. Unless he fancies them in some way. This one has caught his eye and his interest.
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There wasn't the same warmth to his tone as there had been in Grayback's tone - but nevertheless, he spoke without any hint of insincerity. While he frightened her, she felt he was not the sort to hide his sensitive shame, or in order to manipulate another wolf. It was as though he was incredibly true to himself, and he seemed the sort who was well aware of how others might perceive him, though he didn't seem to fazed by the reaction he got from her. She doubted that his offer was an act of Charity - as it came with something that was less of a warning, and more of an advisory. Was he an honest man then? he seemed so comfortable in his own skin ...Something Oryx wished she could say for herself - but she couldn't see why he would choose to offer her sanctuary as there was so little worth to her.

And an offering her a home, she thought perhaps he was contradicting his warning, so her brow furrowed. "I'm a stranger," Her voice was a little more than a whisper. She raised her gaze, with which she searched for a way to make sense of the humming men. Arlette lived here...Unless that was a lie. He didn't seem like a liar, but perhaps that simply meant he was very good at lying. Arlette, she thought, would never have chosen a home if it meant she would be in the midst of wolves who considered themselves to be hostile. Perhaps it was a front they put on, to keep the real enemies at bay. This man, she thought, would do an excellent job of seeming imposing without having to put any effort into it. And yet, he'd hardly flexed his strength with her at all. Perhaps he was better at manipulation than she thought. "I'm Oryx."
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EEEEEE thank you so much for the kudos! :’> I love Oryx too she’s a little SWEETIE!!

He awaits eagerly for her answer to his most generous question. The Grandmaster is a merciful god despite what most seem to think. He doesn’t matter how useless one might think they are, Kynareth knows he can find use in every single one of them. That’s how his father gained such a strong and loyal following. Taking in the ones that don’t belong and making them feel like they belong. His pack now is full of wayward souls. He wouldn’t want it any other way. His enemies, the other packs who see him as a warlord are not wrong to see him that way, after all, he doesn’t show his soft side to those who wish ill will on him. With them, he is merciless. Though with stranded souls such as the woman before him, he sees massive potential in. He’s sure she’s good at something. If she isn’t, he’d help her become good at something.

So when she speaks next the Saint’s smile creeps back onto his face. She even gives him a name. Which he greedily tucks into his mind, he wouldn’t forget it. His smile isn’t taunting though, it’s prideful and confident. “You are now, but you won’t be for long if you decide to stay.” He offers evenly. “Kynareth Deagon of the Abbey, dear.” He offers his own name back as well as his title. “Alpha of the Saints of the Dying Light. It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance, ma’am.” At those words a sly smirk comes to his face snd he’s dipping his head in a low, charming bow. He finally cocks a brow at her. “So? Tell me what you want and you shall receive.” He wants to know if she wants to test the waters with his pack. If so, he’d gladly accept her. If not, he would accept her denial just as easy. Who is he to try and change her mind of it’s not something she wants. He’s not her dad, he can’t make her do anything.
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gonna jump in on this :>
 


Nyra had been out patrolling. Even though her sides were beginning to swell with her pregnancy, she would plan to keep to her routine until she simply couldn't. 

It seems she was coming in on a conversation, as the massive woman came up beside her colead silently, gaze inquisitive of what was going on. 

Gaze first to Donovan. Then to the lady before him.

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YESSS

Oryx felt a little out of place, when she was informed that she was, in fact, dealing with the alpha of the pack. That he'd taken this much time out of his day, and had sat down with her to talk, rather than simply chasing her away the way he might chase off an unwanted pest...It had to be worth something. But trying to figure out what that was, when her own self-worth was so low, did not come easily to her. 

So when he bowed, she stepped back several paces and shook her head. Something was wrong about this, she thought, that this lion-man should bow down to a lamb like herself even if it was just an act to make himself seem more polite and respectful. The smirk was off-putting, and she began to regret having stayed so long. She thought, for a moment, that she should take this last opportunity to flee- but could she leave Arlette behind again? And when the pale female stepped to his side, like a harbinger of death, she knew that there was no running away this time. The pack was healthy and growing- this she could see by the prosperous bulge of the pale female's side. So perhaps...

"I would like to see Arlette," She said. The quiet woman could be her barometer, perhaps. "I might stay, I would just...Like to see Arlette first," He'd said to ask for what she wanted, and that she would receive- would he stay true to his word, then?
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They exchange names, which means he’s getting somewhere with her. Or so he thought until he goes off to try and be charming and she’s shaking her head with a step back. He doesn’t take offense to it, he’s used to denial for his advances or flirtations with other parties. Yet, he does find it extremely odd that she does so. He wonders why he’s frightening her for a moment. He feels pretty tame right now and therefore has no idea why the pretty lady won’t indulge him. He can’t blame her though. He’s terrifying to most and he gives off sketchy vibes, something he’s aware of and usually flaunts. 

He’s quiet as he watches her think, then footfalls move in his ear. He’s looking over to see his Overseer step in next to him and now he fears that they’d scare the smaller woman off. She seems quite intimidated. Yet, he only gives Nyra a soft acknowledgment before he’s turning back to the midnight woman to hear her speak. She wants to see Arlette. Something he’s not opposed to, so he doesn’t see why he couldn’t escort her to their medic. 

He nods once to her. “Then Arlette you will see, darling.” He moves to stand and gives Nyra a quick look that says that he’s moving back to the territory and she’s welcome to join. “Come with me, little one.” He hums back to the smaller. He’s already walking, expecting her to follow.