Character Name: Anya
Character Birthdate (including year): October 8th, 2007
Whether s/he is a regular wolf or a Luperci: regular wolf
Species: canis lupus
Gender: female
A secondary form of contact (AIM, MSN, Y!M): csheamartin@yahoo.com (email) or yaoran.s.girl@hotmail.com">syaoran.s.girl@hotmail.com (IM)
I heard about Souls from a couple of friends, one of whom has joined the Phoenix Valley pack, and the other has joined the AniWaya pack.


Initial post:

Stumbling through the forests, Anya didn't even bother to test the air for offending scents. Her paws were ripped up, but she didn't remember what from. The tattoo on her shoulder glittered slightly with blood that caught the rain. The blood made the tattoo a dark red, and Anya would not have known it was there from sight if she had been a different wolf.

But then, she had always wanted to be a different wolf. Father had been violent with the pups, and she was the only one brave enough to fight back. Malaki, her closest brother, had been the last to die at the jaws of the lonely wanderer. Anya had fought, and for fighting, she was given the tattoo that marked her as a traitor to wandering wolves. Hopefully she would live if she was taken into a pack...

Burrowing down in the brush, her steel gray coat almost black with the rain, Anya settled in for a long night. Maybe, just maybe, someone would find her and either kill her, which could be a blessing, or accept her. She wouldn't even mind the scrutiny of her scars. Her steel blue eyes glinted with determination, before she let them close for the night.

The dark steele blue male had been out in the rain that night thinking, the only thing that seemed to chase his burdens from his mind as the rain danced upon his brow and rattled away the ability to think on brooding matters for too long. His stormy orbs had not caught the sight or scent of the girl on his patrol but the strong metallic scent of blood was enough to register on his radar and rather quickly. Hauling in mid-step the male lifted his head up high, the heckling rising on his back, his mind jumping to the thought of the last time there had been blood on the borders as a growl rose from his throat. His voice was deep and gravely, not his normal voice but the voice of one who hadn't used it in a while as he spoke up. "Who's there.." Hoping that the company that had shed blood on their lands was far gone and he wouldn't have to prove the pack's worth in the eyes of some arrogant roamer.

A flash of lightning revealed the shadowy form of another nestled in the brush as he took a step closer to investigate, not knowing what he was getting himself into but not believing that it was bad enough to call for the whole pack at his back. The scent of the young woman finally was caught as he relaxed a bit, not being able to see her wounds but assuming that she had been at the receiving end of an attack, not the one who had attacked another. His voice rose up once more as he asked, "Lassie what are you doing on these claimed lands.." If she had been stupid enough to attack one of his members on their land and had decided to stay for a nap she'd found out soon enough how foolish she was.

Anya raised her head as this strange male approached her.

"I promise to you, I have done nothing wrong," she whimpered. "My father....is he out there somewhere?"

Her wounds were making her delirious. The eyes looking at her were starting to multiply and spin in sickening patterns.

She tried taking a step towards the male, but left most of her weight resting on her injured right shoulder, and crumpled. She just didn't have the strength to get up and greet this male with the dignity she ought to have.

Anya knew that being a roamer on these lands put her at danger. Especially since she was bleeding so profusely. But at this point, she would rather die than go back to the loner gathering place to be ripped to shreds by her father's supporters.

Her delirium got the best of her in short time. As she looked at the male who had approached her, his visage swirled and in an instant, she now saw her beloved brother Malaki, long dead.

OOC-Wait a moment to reply, there's another packmember that wants to join this thread. -

IC-

The sound of the girl's reply made him press his ears back against his head, slightly baffled as to why she seemed so concerned about her father being out in the lands. "Was he with you.." he asked, then correcting himself a little as he added. "Were.. you attacked?" The leader wasn't sure of the lady still but he would give her the benefit of the doubt for the moment.

He was about to settle back on his haunches when suddenly the woman rose but in the moment it took her to try and make a move towards him she'd crumpled back down to the ground once more. He realized then that the dark shadow of her pelt and the rain was making it impossible for him to tell the true nature of her body and the girl probably was riddled with wounds hidden in the darkness.

"Let me help you.. you don't seem too well.." he said as he moved closer, his nose investigating her scent and trying to find the wounds that were seeping blood in the darkness. The marking upon her shoulder caught his attention as another flash of lightning filled the forest, his brows furrowing as he held his tongue yet knowing he would hav eto ask about the wound that seemed so fresh and yet so deliberate.

Geneva usually patrolled during the day; however, the darkness and the rain had kept the petite femme inside most of the day. The storm had only let up somewhat with the fall of night, and so the gray pelted woman had begun her routine. She worked from the inside out, starting with the innermost parts of Phoenix Valley territories and then fanning out toward the outermost borders. This pattern took her several hours to complete, but she liked to be thorough. Because she did not have a working sense of smell, she had to depend mostly on her eyesight. The more ground she covered, the more she could see.

Now, more than ever, Geneva had an even greater stake in keeping this pack safe and intact. Months before she had been attacked at the borders, a situation ensuing that would leave her shoulder and flank scarred with the teeth marks of a coin-eyed beast. She was resolute not to let that happen again, especially with little Addison around. Geneva had grown to care very much for the young girl, and now as her mentor, she felt it necessary to do everything in her power to keep the girl safe. She didn't want to think of the way Jefferson might react if anything happened to her.

A silvery shadow caught her sight, and the lime-eyed woman picked up her pace as she spied a familiar form. It would figure that DaVinci would be lurking around the borders. It had been this hybrid who had saved her from Brennt. If it wasn't for his vigilance, she probably wouldn't be alive. Geneva had never gotten the chance to properly thank him. She approached, and opened her mouth to speak, but realized that DaVinci was talking to a stranger.

The Tutela stopped at his shoulder, looking curiously at the woman he seemed to be talking to. Geneva stopped short, blinking rain out of her lime colored eyes as she took in the sight of the woman's injuries. It was like de ja vu for her. She had arrived at Crimson Dreams borders in similar conditions. Her gaze jumped from the woman's body to her face, watching to see if she was in a great deal of pain. "DaVinci," she murmured into the hybrid's ear, "I don't know if this would be wise - but it might be prudent to move her out of the rain....she doesn't look very well."

Heat waves shuddered through her body, sending Anya gasping into the night. She knew that if she didn't get out of the rain soon, her body would fail.

The female's voice sounded familiar as it approached, but Anya could barely form a coherant thought, much less identify voices. Her breath started wheezing in her throat, and she began seeing forms again.

"Father, don't! He did nothing to you!" Anya cried out into the darkness, deep in her delusion. She was reliving the worst night of her life: the night that Malaki had snarled at his father out of turn and died as a consequence.
"Father, you are dead to me. Why do you insist on haunting me?!"

Darkness overwhelmed her, and she fell deep into the sleep that guards from unwanted memories.

DaVinci barely heard the sound of Geneva approaching but when her voice found his ears he turned his head towards her as a frown fell upon his lips. "I know.. I just noticed how bad off she is.." he said as the long limbed male began to shift into his optimei form, He had no issues with doing it infront of another and it was very much needed at the moment if he was going to get the girl located anywhere other than where they were at right now. The cool feel of the rain on his pelt made him shiver as he towered over the girl now, trying to take in the babble that she had been throwing at him.

Suddenly the girl fainted and he couldn't help but turn to Geneva as he kneeled down to pick her up. "I had nothing to do with that.." Rising up with the injured girl in his arms he turned towards the inner working of the packlands and bit his lip, knowing that they were a distance from the cottage and the ranch where supplies were kept but he couldn't think of anything else to do. "Poor kid.." he said softly as he began to lead Geneva towards the cottage knowing that if they hurried they wouldn't have the girl in the rain too long..

All the while he hoped that his own body heat would be enough to keep her on their side long enough to get her patched up and repaired. He didn't know if she would last the night, he wasn't the best healer in the world.. but he was all the pack had.

OOC-THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! LOL

IC-

Anya woke at intervals to find herself in the male's arms. It startled her and made her a little uncomfortable, but the fever that had taken over her mind deluded everything. At times she thought it was Malaki who was holding her, comforting her. Other times she thought she was in the arms of her father, playing his comforting side if anyone was around.

She felt herself being set down dimly, somewhere in the depths of her mind. But her eyes glazed over, and the tattoo drummed an almost decapacitating rhythm of fire against her shoulder.

Anya forced herself to numb the pain from her mind, focusing on the voices and sounds surrounding her, before falling sound asleep.

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The gray wolfess stood back as DaVinci shifted. She flicked her eyes back to ponder the steel colored female as DaVinci's form stretched, reshaped, and changed. She was glad that the Savant took the initiative and began the process of moving the stranger in doors. There was no telling how badly her condition was deteriorating. The rain did much to mask scent and the sight of her injuries. She could only guess the extent of the damage to the stranger's battered frame.

She seemed to slip in and out of consciousness. Her body hung limp in DaVinci's arms. The gray female took the chance to charge her form then. She closed her eyes as she felt her petite body lengthening, changing. When she opened her eyes again, she was reformed and kneeling on the ground. She rose on two feet and turned to hurry after the silvery hybrid carrying the strange woman.

"I know you didn't hurt her," she intoned gently, finally catching up with the man. It had taken her a few minutes to assume the change. There was a smile playing around her features despite the gravity of the woman's situation. Geneva trusted DaVinci very much, and she was very relieved that he had been at the borders. Geneva didn't often panic, and often thought things through very well in trying situations, but his presence was reassuring. She associated him with saftey and security.

She hurried ahead of DaVinci a few steps to open the door wide. She pushed the door open and shouldered her way inside, shivering a bit as she became conscious to the fact that she was dripping wet and cold compared to the warmth of the cottage. "We should get her dry and clean, to see the extent of the damage," the woman said, her eyes intent on the woman in his arms.

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DaVinci smiled slightly at Geneva when she finally joined him on the trail to the cottage, the rain pouring down and the thunder rolling as Geneva held open the door to the house as DaVinci followed with the poor soul in his arms. Gently laying the stranger down on the couch he looked towards Geneva and asked, "Can you start a fire?" he figured that they all would need some warmth after so long in the rain. He pulled himself up from the floor as he went into the kitchen to get some towels to help clean up her wounds.

It didn't take him too long to find a bowl and fill it with water before he returned. Crouching down before the girl he began to wipe away the excess water and cleanse out the wounds, realizing that they were already beginning to clot and as long as they kept the girl quiet and warm that she would probably be alright. DaVinci turned his eyes back to Geneva as he murmured. "Someone deliberately did this to her.." he didn't know what the girl had done, if she'd earned it or not but she needed to be taken care of. He shook his head as he sighed. "We're gonna have to keep her here til she's well atleast.." he said as he gazed down at the young woman.

Anya's dreams were tainted with the fever. She cried out in horror at several points, but sank deeper into her subconscious to drown out the misery. It was bad enough that she had had to watch her brother be torn to bits, but to see her mother? Her mother had stood by and done nothing. Anya had sworn to herself that she would not treat her pups like that, if and when she had them.

As she drifted back to the surface of reality, Anya noticed the scent of smoke. It made her think of the days when her mother had lain next to the pups, comfrting them in their terror of the world. Thinking of her mother made her throat swell up with unwanted tears, and she swallowed thickly. As she did so, Anya gasped. By all the stars, that hurt! (I must have caught a cold. Wonderful, just wonderful.)

The fire crackled beside her, and Anya deigned it fairly safe to open her eyes....only to find herself being watched very intently.

She cleared her throat. "I suppose thanks is in order. Thank you for what you have done..."

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The gray hued femme busied herself gathering what was necessary to start a fire. She had done so a few times before, and had become quite proficient at handling fire. She had become fond of staying in front of the fire place during the spring, often taking up residence in Jefferson's rocking chair for long periods of time. She had done so, at first, to leave her scent all over his favorite sitting spot, to get a rise out of him. But she had since discovered the pleasures of sitting in front of a crackling fire.

Geneva gathered some thankfully dry wood and arranged it in the fireplace. Within a few minutes, she had started a flame that slowly began to spread to the other logs. It was a small fire, but one that would grow and warm the entire room with the passage of time. She arranged the logs to keep them from falling in on one another before she turned to face DaVinci again.

Geneva stood back and observed DaVinci's work. Though she had read about healing, it was not at all her art. And the only practical experience she had tending wounds were the result of an attack on her. She hadn't gone about healing herself responsibly, although DaVinci had done what he could to keep her safe. Geneva knew of hte dangers of infection, and watched as DaVinci tended to the stranger. Suddenly she spoke and Geneva moved closer, this time to stand by DaVinci. "Can you tell us what happened to you?" she asked gently.

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When the girl looked up at him and thanked him DaVinci smiled and just shook his head. "It's fine, we'd have done it for anyone.." He knew that it probably wasn't true when it came to their known enemies but time would only tell. DaVinci dipped the rag back in the water and wiped one last time at one of the wounds as Geneva spoke up. Flicking his ears back he nodded and glanced to the girl. "Yes, what happened.." He paused for a moment as he realized they still didn't know her name as he tried to offer her another little smile. "And forgive us.. I'm DaVinci and this is Geneva.." He should have remembered to do that right off the bat but in situations like this he tended to forget everything that mattered.

Pulling away from the girl and finding a blanket to put over her he ran a hand through his hair as he sighed. "You'll probably have to stay here til you're better.. or if you'd like to stay longer I'm sure we could find the space for you.." he said with a slight chuckle. He knew that the rest of the pack wouldn't care to take in another lost soul but they needed to know what had left her like this.

Anya let her head drop into her hands...

"Yeah, I can, but I just escaped a pck of loners that would kill me if I told you anything about them....And with the things that I've been forced to do, I can only be half sure that you won't kill me."

She sighed. "My mother....I never really knew her. She was just a presence in the back of my mind when i was a pup. There were three pups in my litter: myself, the outcast, Malaki, my brother, and Amaya, the runt. Amaya lasted only a few months. At the time, I never even surmised why she had died. But then my father began abusing my mother. Mother either ran off or died; Malaki and I were never told her fate. Malaki and I were comforted by Father, never knowing what he really was." Anya paused, shuddering in the face of her memories.

"About a week ago, Malaki went hunting without Father's permission. Father told me to come with him. We hunted him down, and I was forced to watch as the only friend I had ever had was ripped to shreds in front of me. I lost it. I challenged Father. And I won. As punishment, the others ripped up my paws and shoulder into tattoos. Tattoos of shame. If I ever go back...they would be glad to give me the same courtesy I gave my father."

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Geneva listened in completed silence, her body still as the woman disclosed her story. It seemed to be a story awash with blood and sorrow. It seemed as though so much had happened in a short span of time to this stranger. Geneva felt compassion for her, but she did not yet express it. She could only care for this woman and tend to her injuries for now. There were parts of her story that disturbed Geneva on a different level.

If this stranger's story was true, another threat might be lurking beyond Phoenix Valley borders. Her first thought was for her charge, Addison D'Angelo-Soul. If this "pack of loners" were to come looking for this woman with vengeance in their hearts and with violence, it would pose a threat to the entire pack. Geneva would not hesitate to fight, but she hated to think of the possibility at all.

She turned to look at DaVinci, and let the look on her face convey these thoughts and doubts. They would both have to be careful in dealing with this woman. Geneva wanted to believe that she was just as she seemed - hurt, afraid, and genuine. But necessity dictated that she had to be suspicious, and had to think of what was best for her pack above all things. She deferred to DaVinci at this point, ready to support him in whatever he would decide.

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DaVinci felt the fur on his neck rise slightly as the young lady spoke her piece, the story reminding him of monsters he'd once known. He shook his head sadly as the words of the girl came to a close, he knew that Geneva was waiting to see what his decision would be on this matter. He knew that if her band of loners did come looking for a fight that the pack would stand by his choice but if he turned her away, which he knew there was no way in his heart he could that the pack would be so much better off. He also knew that whatever he did Jefferson would find some fault in it and still think he was an idiot, perhaps he was, an idiot for believing in change or hope atleast for thus.. but it was something atleast.

DaVinci turned towards Geneva with a smile before looking back to the young girl. "Well brave one, what are we to call you then. We can't throw you to the wolves." There was no choice, he would not sentence her to death and it seemed that that was her future outside the borders of the pack. He raised a brow as he sighed softly. "I've already got the pack in enough trouble, one more for sanctuary can't hurt anything.." He looked to Geneva to see what she thought of this as he was finally beginning to feel the effects of the warm fire at his back.

Anya sighed heavily as her tale came to a close.

"I'm Anya. Just Anya. Father never deemed it appropriate to give us his surname, or even tell us for that matter." Seeing the looks on her companions' faces, she stopped...

"You think I'll bring the loners down on you? Don't worry. They hate me as much as I hate them, and they are too afraid to venture far from the forests and cliffs that are their homes. I've traveled for about a week, mostly at a full run. They are far from here." She tried to smile, but Anya feared it looked more like a grimace than anything else. "Your pups are safe."

Anya layed her head down, and watched as the other wolves prepared to sleep. She had many questions, but they could wait for another time.

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Geneva had always trusted DaVinci's discretion. Even when she had been new to Phoenix Valley, she had trusted the silvery hybrid. Despite his grumbling, Jefferson seemed to put a lot of faith in the hybrid. And since he had saved her life at the borders all those weeks ago, she had grown an new respect for DaVinci then. He kept his cool under fire, and he always had his priorities straight, at least by Geneva's estimation. He made her feel safe, and she would gladly follow the most fool-hardy of his instructions.

She had no doubts as far as DaVinci was concerned, so when he had clearly chosen a path of action, she merely nodded her assent. She dipped her head in acknowledgement of her agreement, and then directed a thin smile toward the bloodied stranger.

"What is your name?" the gray wolf asked. If it appeared as though she were to stay, introductions were in order.

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Anya tried to smile once more.

"I can't thank you enough for what you have done. If there is any possible way I can help this pack, I shall. In the loner band, I was the closest thing they had to a healer. I have the knowledge of herbs that can heal. WIll that be of any help?"

She looked worriedly up at the two wolves who had saved her life. Anya felt deep in her soul that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be such an outcast anymore.

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