Just a mental note that this takes place right after Haku finds Cwmfen and Onus, ^=^;;
500+


As Haku had left, the warrior had watched him go in silence. Well done, he had said. Indeed, she had done as he had asked, fulfilling her duty to protect the pack from one who had attacked a member, or, more importantly, the Lilium. And yet, the warrior was at ill ease. While the dramatic show at sword point had been convincing to Haku that she was loyal to the pack—and she was—she now contemplated the nature in which Onus had departed. She had sensed the hurt, as if the point of the blade had been at her throat and not at his, and she knew that the pain had belonged to the masked yote and had been caused by her. The black fae breathed softly, her eyes turned to her knees as she remained sitting there, alone now in the clearing, the scent of the two lingering there only as memories. While she had displayed her loyalty to Dahlia de Mai, she had pushed away someone she loved. She knew it to be true—but had not that physical display been necessary?


Finally, the woman broke the stillness of her form, leaning forward as she shifted down to her lupus form. The crow crawed once more as the single eye turned to watch the Dreamer melt into a different and yet familiar shape. With the change complete, the black she-wolf lay there, allowing her body to recollect the energy that had been expended to complete that change. The white orbs were closed as she listened to the sound of the birds and the trees and the world as it sang, but always the image of that imperceptible frown came to her mind. It was strange how something so simple was unable to be cleared. With a soft sigh, the woman rose but did not return to the den that held still the scent of her lover. The silent paws carried her fluidly from that place, following a different path than the masked vigilante had taken to depart from the lands. Perhaps, the woman thought, she should continue to the unclaimed lands. The individual Brennt still required to be sought for what he had nearly done to Avarice.


The troubled mind of the Dahlian Adonis was broken by a call that rose strongly upon the air. It was not a voice that the warrior recognized, but it called for the leaders of her pack to come. She sensed anger in that call, and so the woad bound maw rose immediately, that deep, long song rising in a short response. Even before the female’s song, its tones dark like the night, fell silent in the air, her pace had quickened to an easy lope, her paws hardly touching the earth, it seemed, as she glided through. It was not long before she arrived, beholding a black female with green eyes like the trees sitting at the boarders. The scent of the unknown female held the distinguishing mark of Crimson Dreams, a land that she had only visited once before. But, although she did not know her, the Adonis assumed that she was of a high rank, a leader or subleader, to have requested the presence of such high ranking wolves. As the woad marked female approached, her maw was dipped respectfully in greeting. "I am Cwmfen nic Graine," the alto melody sang in introduction, "Adonis of Dahlia de Mai. I have heard you call." There was only a brief pause, if any at all. "I hope your news will not be too troubling."

500+


It appeared as if this unfamiliar woman were indeed a leader of the pack. She had heard of the militaristic naming of the ranks within Crimson Dreams—was not General one of the highest. The naming system of that pack, however, was an unfamiliar culture of militaries, though she had recognized some of the ranking. The woad marked female remembered the name carefully: Savina Marino. It was not a name that she had heard before, but the Adonis, although she was not a political woman, the woman made her efforts. She would store that name, face, and scent for future use and recognition. Briefly, the white gaze explored those green eyes that were like a forest. "It is a pleasure, Savina Marino," the alto melody responded formally. Despite the circumstances that had brought Savina Marino to the Dahlian boarders, the warrior, regardless of her solitary nature, enjoyed the company of another. And this wolf, she could immediately ascertain, was a pleasant personality—or would have been should this encounter have been a simple visit.


Savina Marino’s story was troubling indeed. Why would a Dahlian wolf be moved to do such a thing? Such disrespect would not be taken lightly with the Adonis. The Dahlians should know better than to make trouble with other packs, especially because they had Inferni to contend with. "I find that it is necessary for me to apologize for such behavior," the quiet melody responded. "I hope that your daughter was not harmed." The black female of Crimson Dreams was clearly angered, and the fire burned clearly in those eyes. But such anger, the warrior intuited, was not so deep to have exhibited severe harm. Regardless, a mother wolf would be intolerant to such an attack made by another, and Cwmfen, who was a child of nature, understood acutely the amount of control it must have taken to not simply attack and kill the wolf in question.


"Tokyo Chance," the warrior said immediately. Savina Marino’s description of the female wolf in question fit perfectly with the woman. And the warrior had been the one to admit Tokyo into the pack—similar circumstances had followed, but such circumstances had not involved the harming a pup, Palindrome, who had been there. It was irritating to the warrior, however, that Tokyo would have continued to lie—and Cwmfen believed that Savina Marino held no deception within her words. "She has not caused trouble before, but she will be reprimanded for what she has done to you and your pup." There was a slight pause in which the woman fell silent, simply watching the green eyed female at the boarders. "I do not take such behavior lightly," the warrior continued, "and I do not believe that Cercelee will." The Dahlian Rosea may have been kind and gentle, but the white leader could hold her own. Cercelee was also one who sought discipline and, with pups in her care, the Adonis believed that Cercelee would understand the severity of the situation more acutely than she herself did.

500+


A light smile danced upon the warrior’s lips. "The behavior of our members reflect upon our leadership," the soft melody replied, insistent that the apology be completely received. "It seems as if we have not stressed the importance of inter-pack relations, and such behavior is inexcusable." While the black female was not a diplomat or a social creature, she was a warrior and thus highly disciplined, regardless of the fact that such discipline had been instilled by her father. Thus she understood the importance of respect and representation, for they walked hand in hand. Where ever Dahlian wolves traveled, they should have been representing their pack with civil behavior. She knew well that battles would be imminent, but an incident such as this should not have occurred at all. And that bothered the Adonis most of all; she didn’t want to have Dahlia causing trouble in these lands that already contained a dangerous tension.


"I’m relieved to hear that she’s fine," the warrior replied. While the black female was not particularly fond of pups, she never wanted harm to come to them. She recognized that the pups were the most important units of the pack if only because they would one day be the leaders of the lands. Catalyst and Ezekiel had been two youths that had been tolerable, however, the woman thought briefly. Her attention returned to the Lieutenant General Crimson Dreams. It would have been unfortunate indeed if the pup had been frightened. "I understand," the woman replied. "I know that pups can be traumatized at such young ages." Instead of thinking of her own childhood, the woman thought of Conor and Emwe, who had been missing for nearly a moon before they were returned home, and she thought of Avarice, who had been attacked, as other pups had been, by Brennt. A quiet frown came across her lips. She felt upset by what could have happened to this female’s pups on account of her pack member’s behavior.


The woad marked female was not surprised to find that Cercelee and Savina should be friends. The white Rosea was kind and just, a respectable individual that the Adonis respected highly. The black female with eyes like the forest seemed similarly motivated, her civil behavior in the face of her daughter’s attack quite commendable. The warrior gave a single, curt nod in response. "It is the least that I can do," that alto song replied, but she was certain that she would not simply offer understanding but action against Tokyo’s behavior. "I will be sure to inform Cercelee of this incident, and I will help to enforce that decision." There was a slight pause. "I’m sorry that it was not Cercelee who answered your call—she must be busy," the woman said with a smile and a lighthearted wave of her tail. "She has her paws full pups these days." Indeed, the de Sadira pups were many, more than the warrior could handle—she could hardly handle one.

500+


The black female smiled lightly to the Crimson Dreamer’s understanding. There were very few, it seemed, who deeply understood such a concept indeed. "Yes, I remember. Leroy." The smile faltered as she recalled that husky. So many issues had arisen with his coming, and Svara had done nothing to help. The husky’s insolence brought him past the boarders without permission once more, and Svara, who had been allowed to stay in the warrior’s den while she healed, had welcomed him into her home. Where the Head Warrior would have attacked him, she had not. Her body had still been unwilling to move as it had due to the wounds that Hybrid had inflicted upon her. But she had also allowed the then freshly blinded Svara to have her one solace. "The girl with whom he had his infatuation is no longer within our ranks either. They remain as loners, accompanied by one of our other exiles, Firefly Sadira." There was a brief pause. Only trouble could come from that trio.


Cwmfen responded to Savina Marino’s thanks with a slight nod and a soft smile. The woman was only beginning to understand the impact of the world upon the mind of a pup. It was different to observe such a thing than to experience it. For her, the world had been hidden. And then, abruptly, it had been thrown in her face. The more aggressive tendencies that had been of her character had been softened, however, by an unknown hand. She didn’t know what had molded her in such a way, but she felt that everything in life had been a necessary thing. "I must admit that I’ve only been to your lands once before, and that I had never encountered a Crimson Dreams leader." A soft, almost timid smile came upon her woad bound maw. "Perhaps I shall make it a point to visit there sometime in the near future, if only to see how your children are fairing." But whether the woman spoke of the other’s pups or of the metaphorical children—the members of the pack—was uncertain.


"Oh no," the alto melody countered, those golden tones dancing upon the air. "Cercelee hadn’t been pregnant—a relative dropped her pups off before leaving them, and she has adopted them." The warrior’s woad tipped tail waved behind her. Although the news of a mother abandoning her pups was not one to smile about, through it the pups had no doubt gained a reliable mother and father figure. Catalyst had seemed sad and admitted to missing her mother, but at the same time the young girl had been pleased with Cercelee. Perhaps, by now, the love that had been given to their biological mother had been given now to Cercelee and to Slay also. She wondered, then, if Slay and Cercelee would have pups of their own blood. Cercelee had seemed like a motherly type, and she did well with the pups now. She thought, however, that Slay might have been less willing. "The pups seem just as happy as Cercelee is to be here."

500+


The black fae smiled knowingly, the smile quiet and almost indiscernible upon her tranquil face. "Sometimes it is difficult to understand the choices of our leaders," the soft voice agreed. She thought most acutely of Haku’s request to her to make Onus leave. Perhaps she had done no better.... A light smile upon her maw changed as she listed to the way in which the female with eyes like the forest spoke of her mate. "It’s surprising how different relations can be." She knew very well the mechanisms of such a thing. The black fae liked to believe that she was nothing like her father, that she did not hold a blackness within her but only that darkness imminent within all creatures, a darkness soft and tentative, not a blackness of polished obsidian with edges that bit so easily into flesh. And yet, sometimes she felt that she had been too close to that blackness. She was created from a seed of those black loins, and of the rage of her mother. The soul of the crow wolf had brushed against her own when he had raped her those many months ago. Did one not change because of such things? Was the consumption of her soul by that blackness not inevitable? Often, before the hands of sleep pulled her down, she wondered at such things.


"Thank you," the woman replied, grateful for the kindly offered hospitality. She would like to come and explore another pack and meet its members. Perhaps she should do so more often, but her duty as warrior often allowed her to keep to her solitude. But she wondered when she would be able to visit Crimson Dreams. Surely she should not travel there until after the matter of Corvus was dealt with, if there even was an ‘after’ for her. The black fae thought of those that had already been wounded, and she did not need to bring such a thing upon another pack. But she kept these thoughts to herself. Corvus would not trouble a pack that held no relation to her. He would not waste his time with such things.


"It is unfortunate," the black fae agreed quietly, "and counter intuitive." The warrior was a wilder creature than many who inhabited these lands, and she followed instinct. It was strange that a mother would disregard those maternal instincts. Was life not the most precious thing? Truly the woman did not know, but those instincts bid one to survive and to procreate. While the warrior did not wish to be burdened by the laws of procreation and of motherhood, she was not blind to the necessities. It was only fortunate that the mother had thought of her pups enough to give them to the care of one who would nurture them. "She is," the melody confirmed brightly. "I’ve met with all of the pups briefly, and they are growing well, especially their minds." The black tail waved once behind her. The warrior always appreciated a keen mind. Catalyst’s had been most promising.

End here? ^=^
500+


A knowing smile of silver and the ocean depths moved her lips as the white eyes quietly considered the other. "My sire won’t let me forget." Of course, the warrior would not have forgotten. While she lived in the present, she did not forget the past. What had happened had shaped her, and she could not allow that to fall into oblivion. But she did not wish for her father to seek her as he did now. She could not understand how he had found her—had not the burning cold and the biting winds of the lands of ice stolen the warmth and traces of her trail? She had come to these lands with fear, running from him like a coward. If she could admit such a thing, she admitted it to herself. And she didn’t want to run anymore. She was no longer than young girl that had departed Caledonia. And yet, the time to face her dragon of darkness had drawn too near. If only she had been allowed more time.


"She will be glad to see you," the soft melody sang upon the air as she offered a slight nod. "I hope that I will be around to at least see your children." For the black fae the future was uncertain, but her words were ambiguous, whether deliberately or not. It would be reasonable for the warrior to not be within the pack’s vicinity should she be out upon one of her territorial explorations or upon the trails of the two males that she now sought. A golden smile danced upon her lips as the white orbs met those sylvan eyes. If she would be able to meet the pups, she would no doubt watch from a distance. The woad marked female had never been too fond of pups, and interacting with them, she found, could be trying. Nevertheless, the Caledonian-Korean conveyed the same respect to the pups that was given to the adults. So far, with the limited contact, she had found a rare pleasure in their presence. The black fae was not a mother, but she tried to teach the pups what she could, if only through their simple conversations.


Then, suddenly, there was a brief moment in which the black fae hesitated, as if she was unfamiliar with what must come next. Such was the ineptitude of her social repertoire. "I’m apologize once more that such circumstances have brought you to our boarders," the soft alt said at length, deciding that what needed to be said had been said. She was not usually one to linger long, although such a thing was also the rationale to her lack of knowledge of who her packmates were. But there were many places to look today, and she must continue her hunt of both Brennt and Corvus. "I will convey your message to Tokyo Chance. She will not cause trouble with your pack again," the golden melody assured with that suave formality. The woad bound maw was dipped respectfully to the leader of another pack, a gesture of respect and of dismissal.