Bearclaw Valley Says he’s broke

Hoping to have Pandora join and help them poison ppl ;)
Set about half a mile outside the borders at 11 pm. 
@Arielle @Aventus @Merrick

The fox look alike has traveled back to the Teekon from her fun little vacation home. Which never goes well, especially when one’s been banished, but what can she do? 

Well, first, she has to find somewhere to stay and she thinks she knows just the place. The figure of the one eyed coy mix comes to mind. She’s offered her services in toxicology to him if he needed, but she never stayed long enough to get the opportunity. Rather, she’d gone to entertain herself at the pack high up in the ice lands. Though not as exciting as traveling the world, it was comfortable. 

Still, she craves excitement in her young years. She wants to see others choke on her herbs and froth at the mouth — always such a funny dance they do. And that man — ohhh that man — looks like he likes to kill. He looks like he has enemies. She wants to be a part of that.

So she retraces her steps to where she remembers meeting him and further follows the scent of many. She reached their borders and is all too sure not to cross it without permission. She doesn’t feel like feeling teeth ripping apart her beautiful pelt. Blood stains after all and scars wouldn’t look good on her. 

So as the moon paints it’s sickly light along the fields of dead flowers and grass, he pads across the dimly lit land. Her form looks ethereal — a ghost. Her paws are soft as they move, silent, her full tail swishes behind her elegantly. Pandora stares ahead and into the depths of their territory, raises her head, and lets out a higher pitched and distinctly coyote sounding howl. Calling whoever will come.

Bein' vague because the raids are ongoing!

The valley wolves needed supplies, and Stryx did not feel as if she had ingratiated herself among the cultists to any great degree yet, so it seemed appropriate in her mind to fill caches as she studied the terrain, and whatnot. At least then she could while away the hours between her lessons with Arielle; that was why she'd been allowed to stay here, after all.

But it was a drag. Stryx was thoroughly a skeptic when it came to their beliefs. She didn't care for anyone's faith, as it had no impact on her work as far as she understood it. In the many years she'd had to study herbalism and medicine, faith had not entered in to it.

Her work was diligent and it was comprised of long hours spent hiking, which her body could barely handle, or gathering, which was harder than normal due to the excessive snows. So when Stryx woke that evening with a shiver she cursed aloud to herself for falling asleep on the job.

What kind of impression would that impart?

She shakes snow from her shoulders which must have fallen some time during her impromptu nap, and moseyed her way along one of the many branching paths - intent on finding the storehouse, but, she only found a ghostly creature by the valley mouth; their song rang out soon enough.

The hell? The buzzkill huffed, teeth chattering.

The stranger was pale like the snow, and small. They could've been a little kid for all Stryx could tell, or something of a threat. Fortunately she wasn't like the more diabolical fanatics of the valley.

Who're you, what're you doin' here, and — heck, do you not notice how late it is? Should try back in the morning. Unless she was intent on becoming a sacrifice to these weirdos, that is.

The ghostly woman swishes her full tail with interest when she sees a wolf approaching her. Large auds cupping forward to hear their steps and eventually listen to her voice. She does find disappointment welling in her gut when she realizes it’s not the charismatic, one eyed coyote she’d met last time around her, but it seems they will have to do.

Or this was her attitude until the female’s voice rings out over the land.

Who're you, what're you doin' here, and — heck, do you not notice how lateit is? Should try back in the morning.

Instantly, Pandora’s ears face backwards with irritation. Her blood red eyes blink slowly — unimpressed by the strangers tone and words. Her tail swishes faster now and she offers her a deadpan expression.

“Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, hon’.” She comments silkily to the shewolf. “I was hoping for your one eyed master though.” She quips softly back, a smile curling her lips upwards. “Is he around?”

Stryx didn't care who this was, in all honesty. After the tumult of the bear-wolves' recent activities and all the work both Arielle and herself had put in to remedy the ills of the various warriors, she didn't have the patience.

He's busy. She countered. The last thing Stryx would prescribe to any of her patience was a late night dalliance with strangers, especially in his condition.

As cut-throat as these cultists had proven themselves to be, they were still mortal beings. They bled. They bruised. It was the starbone's duty to see them through to good health.

The woman bristled. Answer the questions or quit wasting my time.

The ashen wolf has an attitude and Pandora finds it both grimly funny and surprisingly annoying in the late hours of the night. She’s had a long day of traveling and some scraggly wolf’s attitude is the last thing she wants. So Pandora would sigh as soon as the woman mentions the great Merrick’s status: busy.

Which causes her to level the woman with an unimpressed expression. A surprisingly lax smile spreads over her thin muzzle, her eyelids are also relaxed, as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. But in fact she definitely does and her nerves are being shot, but she’s good at games like these.

“How unfortunate.” She hums in a drab tone.

Only the woman is demanding answers then and Pandora’s auds swivel backwards. “Right away, miss.” She purrs teasingly, but otherwise her tone is soft and silky. “Wouldn’t want to catch your teeth, now would I?”

“This one is Pandora and I’m here to meet with the great Merrick about staying here for a while.” She says easily, never stumbling over a single syllable. “If his graciousness allows of course.” She purrs, smile never leaving her beautiful face.

Stryx opened her mouth to explain that, hey, they'd just gotten back from a night raid — but that didn't feel right either. The stranger was being petulant. Cute, coy, but petulant. It took every ounce of her own willpower not to spit in her face and send her away.

Rather than do what instinct demanded, she shrugged and let the feeling pass. You know him? That was the only real question on Stryx' mind; it was rare for anyone to find this place, let alone call for the leader by name. It was the only thing Stryx could think.

She didn't expect an answer - and was already turning away from the pale woman. Lifting her chin, calling sharply for @Merrick to attend to this. It wasn't exactly in the job description of a physician... Then again, it could be ages before he'd hobbled his way over.

Stryx gave the woman a look but said nothing. Let her see for herself, if she was so keen.

the man that came to rest three good and one mangled paw in the soil before pandora was changed.
caked with blood and matted with dirt, merrick's lean frame reeked of earthen death. and the single eye left to him scorched and burned and writhed.
"pandora."
his voice was claws upon oiled stone.
he remembered her hips and chest and lips and limbs;
but they stirred no part of merrick.
"what has you on my doorstep again?" he rumbled in a cautious slither.

The ashen female asks if she knows him. She would begin to reply before the shewolf raises her howl to the sky. 

“For a short moment, yes.” Comes her reply with a lazy shrug. 

Soon enough, the request for the coy-wolf’s present sings through the air. Pandora doesn’t know how long it takes for him to arrive — could’ve been seconds or minutes. Eventually, she sees the glimmer of a single, fiery eye in the darkness. What soon follows is a tattered man with a pelt of rusty red and deep browns and blacks. 

Her eyes follow him as he appear and says her name in that deep rasp of his. 

So he remembers.

But despite the fleeting familiarity, Pandora senses that he might not be in a playful mood. She doesn’t really know much about him either. So the idea of being careful might just be beneficial. Especially considering the wounds he sports.

So he offers him one of her usual smiles. “I’ve found myself in need of a home, great Merrick. Perhaps I could offer my toxicology skills for you in exchange.” Just the mere idea of it brings joy to hear cold heart — the idea of poisoning others that is.

pandora, temptress.
she wished entry and merrick snorted out a long breath. he had become less trusting. her eyes promised many things. her lips formed words that should have titillated him.
but those in ursus now had been put to the test.
"i want to see your skills."
treva had been ready to spar despite her loss. what would pandora give to pass beyond the reddened gates of ursus? his paw throbbed with anguish and he embraced it with a sharp exhale through his nostrils. pain was nothing that merrick had not surmounted a hundred times before.
"how will you show me?" his voice slipped lower into a note of teasing.

I want to see your skills.

So the great Merrick wants proof then? She’s not surprised he asks for it, but those particular skills are much more difficult to show with out preparation. In order to do it properly, and without detection, she’d have to grind them up — them into a paste. A paste that is actually very tasty, despite its deadly outcome. Well, usually tasty, always depends on the plants one uses. She opts to use the tasty paste to put in carcasses or meat. 

Anyways, it’s not quite as simple as he thinks.

Only he hums out a low question after, How will you show me? And Pandora can’t help but meet him with an interested smile and a fun quirk in her siren-like eyes.

So the silver fox-like creature would tilt her head in thought before regarding him once more. “I would, but that requires preparation, great Merrick. Poisons are meticulous.” She pauses though, watching him with her deep, wine red eyes. “Perhaps I could gather supplies and test them on a hare or ungulate for you tonight.” She ends with a confident smile, but not overly so. 

She’s skilled in her trade and she knows it, but Merrick needs his proof. He wants his money’s worth if he’s going to keep her here. And that is something she’s willing to deal with. Never missing an opportunity to show her interest in poisoning others.

he watched pandora.
merrick's eye dazzled over pandora. he had no doubt that her work would be skillful. appreciated. had he not bene wounded from the raid, he might have offered himself as her proverbial guinea pig. but ursus could not suffer the loss of a head. not even his own. 
and the bear must see its test rushing in merrick: that he would let neither weakness nor apostasy enter this realm. he stepped forward on his painful paws.
her red eyes held confidence. the bearwolf wanted that aspect to serve the bear most of all.
he would have rather watched a wolf die.  
"a coyote," he decided. they were harsh and would fight hard this time of year. but one less was one less. "you will be poisoning wolves if the bear sees fit."

She feels like she’s being picked apart by him and his cyclops gaze. It’s rather intense, but she also sees the way his face reflects the pain of his wounds. Which she takes a moment to gather up with her own eyes. Assessing his damage of the ones she could see, she’s impressed by him once again. She could never imagine getting her pelt torn up like that. For she likes to keep the pale white and cream of her own coat pristine and beautiful.

When Merrick steps forth, she continues to follow him with her eyes. But when he’s saying that she would be killing a coyote for him that’s when she lights up.

“Even better.” She hums with a newly ignited flame to her eyes. “Then how about I go prepare for the show, great Merrick.” She offers then with a soft tilt of her head, large ears cupped towards him.

"you are the great show, pandora."
his voice was war-roughened. "find the coyote. bring it here. kill it before ursus."
he lapped at ragged lips; "i want you stained with blood. mussed. i want to know you worked and not in a way for your own pleasure;" yes, he remembered;
remembered his own temptation stirring in his body;
there was a second now: he wanted to press his teeth against the great vein in pandora's throat.
"perhaps you'll earn a scar. they're favoured currency around here."
the bearwitch chuckled but his eye was trained completely upon the seductive little poisoner.

You are the great show, Pandora. Merrick rumbles which has pandora sweating a bit beneath her pelt.

Oh she’s in for a real treat now, isn’t she? To have to entertain the great Merrick with his specific taste of brutality. Only she might just have to disappoint him in that regard for she is not a fighter and she does not plan on gaining these scars he speaks of. She’s too pretty for that.

He wants her stained in blood apparently and though the thought is appealing to both of you, Pandora doesn’t believe in her abilities to do such a thing. Especially with a coy bigger than her. Perhaps she’d ask him to teach her some fighting techniques if she gets in. For her only style of fighting is panicky and angry. Which, one, isn’t a good look on her and, two, not a good way to fight — leaves room for mistakes. She would try though, depending on who she finds as her victim. If it’s a small she-coy her chances would be better than a large male. So they’d have to see who she comes across.

So pandora shoots a smirk at the coy. “My, my, Merrick. Your tastes are very specific aren’t they?” She’d tease good naturedly. “But I will be trying my best. See you soon.” She purrs, turning on her heels and instantly puts her nose to the ground in search of herbs and coyotes.