Golden Glade One summer day
Loner

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#1
All Welcome 
Swift as a bird, from one forest to the next the dark wolf scurried. In his passing, the runaway had scented the pack aroma that had been mingled with the fur of the wolf who’d called himself Vein.

In that pale stranger’s kindness, there had been lingering temptation to pause at their border and seek answers to questions he didn’t know how to formulate. Instead of loitering there, the dark wolf had prowled outside of their claim for no more than a few hours before he vanished into the foliage.

The glade was peaceful, though.

With a weary glance to the north, Crowfeather sniffed at the breeze. His stomach lurched happily with the aroma of rabbit in the air. If he was fast enough, he could eat well. He entered a hunter’s stance and began to search for his target.
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Akashingo
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#2
the place where Ra touched the earth.
ramesses had become fond of the glowing place, humoured that it had been satsu whom had brought him forth.
the aroma of little killing things in the air, and that of a stranger.
the pale man lifted his chin, calling to the one as of yet unseen: "the saints, the archangels, they hunt these places. who is the brave young god who strays so close?"
mocking, interested; his tone hung in the air.
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Loner

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#3
God?

Oh no…

Crowfeather’s large ears fell to his head at once. The dark shape looked uncertainly, this way and that, in search of the figure who had spoken to him – who had mistaken him for a God.

Fearful and quaking, the runaway felt himself start to become sick. Anxiety tossed inside his belly like a wave on the sea and he feared he could not weather it.

N…no Gods here, a shaking reply.

Of course, there are no Gods here, you foolish little boy.

Crowfeather could hear his father’s voice like a clear bell, sharp and painful.
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Akashingo
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#4
ramesses' ears cupped, and eventually as his strides continued he caught sight of the figure: an angular smudge of shadow-work against the summer landscape. gloomful and lightless, and something off about the man as well. vulpine in the features.
pharaoh felt himself warm with interest.
"perhaps not a god then. perhaps only a man. a very foolish man," he went on in a teasing sing-song as he moved closer, halting some feet away, "to court the very willing teeth of those around you."
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Saints Of The Dying Light

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#5
Ah, Ramesses. At it again with whatever the skulking rat did. 

Nyra moved silently to follow, listening and closing in as the crow and the ex-royal conversed. 
"Indeed." Nyra purred, licking her fangs casually despite the dark, succubus lilt of her voice. 
Her hellfire gold eyes trailed over the wanderer, question in a killer's hues now, instead of violent promises.
Loner

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Crowfeather did not like being called a fool and certainly not from a man he had never seen tail nor hair of before in his life. This discomfort was displayed readily in the swinging of his dark ears, laying flat on his cap in an insulted manner.

Well- I-

But before he could manage a sputtering response, another figure appeared who carried the same fragrance as the bold man. Crowfeather quavered in his place, fearful that he had managed to cross into claimed land.

The female licked her lips, teeth glinting, and the dark runaway was filled with an indescribable frustration.

Listen here, there’s no scent of claim in these woods. I can’t be intruding… I can’t be… he mustered with an indignant but anxious stare at the frightening male across from him.
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#7
nyra, materializing to bristle alongside him with dislike and bloodmeat intent. ramesses dipped his head to the moonlit woman, a pleasant grin lighting his handsome features. his focus, now, upon the insulted and hapless young peasant before them.
"the saints do not need borders, we have our name," the exile purred, as much to prod the appealing blacktint shape as to appeal toward nyra and her sense of honor, of violent response to what she saw as her own.
"what would you offer to pass through this shadow of death?" pharaoh teased, though now his sly lapis gaze traveled with a lecherous and blatant understanding across the features that still, he could not be sure, was only wolf.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

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#8
Short post on my end, apologies ;w;


She felt a brief kinship with Ramesses now, standing to intercept either a possible recruit or a trespasser. 

The ex-royal, asking what bribery the young crow could offer to avoid violence. Nyra's hellfire gaze glinted ominously, watching Crowfeather with morbid interest. 

What could he give?
Loner

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#9
I have never heard it, he lied.

Vein came from their pack. He could smell it. The wolf he had met after had come from their pack too, and still Crowfeather maintained a fleeting look of courage as he looked back into the male’s eyes.

The female who stood at his side was far more frightening. When the dark runaway looked to her, he felt his stomach churn violently. Crowfeather thought that he would immediately vomit but managed to hold his gut with a great deal of teeth-gritting.

They wanted to know what he could offer…

I- he did not know what he could offer them to pass through what he had believed to be unclaimed territory. The fear surged again. Crowfeather felt his legs grow weak. I am a seer! he finally called out to them, voice cracking.

I- I have visions, the dark thing said next.
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#10
ramesses credited his silver tongue for the luck of turning nyra's attention off him, and toward the stranger. his tones were shattered with fear, and pharaoh nearly laughed aloud. 
pristine plume switched at his heels. "a seer," he said with a mocking air, though his brow arched with a true interest. "and visions, though not of where might be most dangerous to walk?"
ramesses began to circle to the left, drifting closer with the same leer in his lazuli stare. "what else?"
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Saints Of The Dying Light

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A seer, hmm? 
Nyra chuckled softly, shaking her head. 

"We have no need for seers here." Nyra rumbles, and as Ramesses goes to the left, the Overseer lunges forward at the crow.
Loner

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#12
They aren-

He froze with his eyes darting between the two.

They aren’t visions li- like that. They need some er-

Gods why was he trying to explain these monsters?!

They need some interpreting. An- and they’re rather larger in scale th- than where to wander, the shadow finally sputtered, mustering some level of indignance. His gift was supposed to be sought after. They had always told him he would be desired no matter where it was, he went.

All of it was lies…

The savage wolves wanted more, something more that he could offer them, and he looked around himself as though something would appear.

When the woman lunged for him, he hurried backward, tripping pathetically over his own long legs.

NO! his cry surprised even himself.

P- please, I’ll do wh- whatever you w- w- he was sputtering, n- need.
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Akashingo
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#13
ah; a cluck of the tongue as nyra struck, a jettison of pure fierce pale light, and the boy, crying out and pleading, pretty legs wending together into a stumble.
bloodsport, and pharaoh watched with interest, before he too drew quickly forward.
"you might give him to me," ramesses suggested gently, not truly seeking to spare the other, but rather watchful for how the snowdrive warrior might respond. "he is a bit beautiful to kill so swiftly. what does he know, do you think?"
conversational, though he meant to block any mad and desperate fleeing the stranger might attempt.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

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The yearling tripped on his own paws, yelping for her mercy. 
Nyra clicked her teeth close to his face, but never truly moved to stand over the boy or make more physical contact, if her fangs did happen to graze Crowfeather at all. 

Ramesses' suggestion made the Overseer hmm with some thought. 
What did he know? 

Finally, the Battle Maiden withdrew a small distance, jerking her muzzle the direction of the Coast, away from the Hinterlands. 

The boy likely wouldnt agree to pledge to her cause now. Too hasty, was she...too hasty...

"You can pledge yourself to me, or go." She rumbled, hellish gaze watching him. Not with as much malice now, but more so....interest.

She fully expected he might bail, but maybe she'd be surprised.
Loner

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The dark seer quaked as her fangs snapped inches from his face, certain that he would have emptied his bowels if they had not already been aching from starvation.

Fright filled him so easily that Crowfeather almost did not hear the gold male request that the white wolf might allow him claim. He did hear, however, and found the prospect so unbelievably terrifying that he gawked openly between the two. Crowfeather had not even attempted to right his figure before the woman told him that he could pledge himself to her or leave.

Gods, I don’t need to be asked twice.

It was clear that Crowfeather did not know enough to grant him any form of wiggle room with these brutes.

Of course, thank you for-

For what? For sparing him? For offering him the chance to run away? The seer did not feel grateful to her in the slightest.

As he rose to his paws and began to scurry out of their sight, he glanced back over his shoulder to pray that they would not pursue him.
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Akashingo
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#16
an offering. how very generous of nyra, ramesses thought with a rare bit of charity. he knew her strength, and knew in his marrow he would be easily snapped in such jaws. Sobek, perhaps, had given the lotus-furred one His blessing.
for whatever reason, ramesses would never know, but he was not to question the gods.
"if he stays near, perhaps i might pull that pledge from him all the same," he grinned, warming to the hunt.
"you have the teeth of a lion, nyra," he commented dryly, with more intimacy than he was allowed, though his silver tongue felt he knew its way through the steps of flattery. "i have no such weapons. only a sword."
a loud and bawdish laugh, now, the royal humour of a man who had never forgotten he was pharaoh.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

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Nyra hmmed absently to Ramesses' words, watching the blackened boy run away.

"Weapons are weapons. There is no better or worse." She muses vaguely with no real response to his words, turning to trot away into the trees.