Underneath the shell is an angry fire

Cloaked in the stink of pine needles and agitation, the golden Seneschal prowled through the trees and roughly shoved his muzzle against bark and brush -- as if some scent of his missing fellow prince could have survived after so long. He lifted his head and growled, hackles stiff on the back of his neck. One brilliant green eye narrowed, while the empty socket was a slit between his eyelids, a hollow one could fall into if they stared too close.

These fucking coyotes... Skoll murmured under his breath in French, and glanced over his shoulder at his companion. This is where you -- where the trail ended? he asked, forcing his rough, angry voice to ease rather than accusing Maciel of dropping the scent. He was grateful for the Mexican wolf to have taken him this far; Skoll had more or less demanded that the Margrave show him where Pascal's trail had disappeared so he could perhaps find him. They were, as Maciel had warned him, very close to Inferni; its coyote stink was strong on the wind.

He growled again, softly, and then swung his head wildly at a rustle in the trees off to his blind side -- but it was only the wind. The Secui male braced his shoulders and glowered out into the forest, uncertain of what to do next. He kneaded the earth with his massive paws, talons scoring the grass like flesh.

Word Count → 338 :: Bit of a clunky post, this, but just wanted to get it up ASAP. ;) So excited!

The taste of fear and resentment was raw on Maciel's tongue. He had lead the golden Seneschal to where Pascal's trail had ended, although the scent itself had long ago faded into the pine needles and there was nothing here except trees, songbirds and Inferni scent. The other's intensity was contagious, though, and it dug into his fur like lice until he became just as riled up. As he stood stiffly in the shade, Maciel's black lips curled slightly, revealing glimpses of sharp, yellowed fangs, and his anxious heart raced in his chest. Every fibre of his being radiated pent-up aggression, but it was of the defensive kind - Maciel did not entirely recognise the emotions that were consuming him and he was more afraid than he was bloodthirsty.

The Mexican wolf glanced around the forest and then at Skoll, who was snuffling around nearby. The Huntsman's sharp ears pricked forward at his pack mate's muttering, but the words were blurred and unfamiliar. Suddenly, the knight looked over at him and he almost shrunk away. His loyalty to the Seneschal was immense and yet, at the same time, that missing eye was... disturbing.

He knew the story behind it though. 'A coyote,' he remembered, and felt a rush of sympathy toward the warrior. The other's question was promptly answered, "Yes, the trail ended here," he replied, dipping his head respectfully. His thoughts crept back to the search party, and the old ghosts of helplessness and dismay briefly overwhelmed him. Again, he looked around and it was like he had been thrown back in time: the looming shadows became silhouettes - that one Calanthia, that one him - and he watched as they searched desperately for any trace of Pascal. Of course, there had been none, and they had been forced to turn back with heavy hearts and wearied minds. Maciel's paws shuffled nervously in the pine needles. "What should we do now?" he finally asked, his gaze looking to Skoll for orders.

Just poke me with a stick if these assumptions aren't okay, Sami! :3 Have my rambley post of Kennedy throwing conclusions everywhere like it's going out of style.

The borders were quiet aside from the small noises of Kennedy and his patrol partners; the scuffle of paws below them, the flutter of raven's wings above them, and their muted breathing between them. The Fisher did not know Kára well yet, but she was a Lykoi and born from these lands, and an extra pair of eyes and fangs. Ever since the wolf trespassed a fortnight ago, the coymutt never stopped scouting and patroling and watching, but he was as less tense as he would be when he had another canine with him.

Snow was silent, and he found some comfort in that. That meant there was nothing for the bird to notify them about.

He turned his head to the woman besides him and he opened his mouth to say something, perhaps small talk to pass the time and to ease himself. But before his inhale of air could produce words, he stopped, almost stumbling with his abruptness.

His face morphed multiple times in a few seconds; it held confusion, then doubt --he inhaled another breath to drag air over his scent glads, and then a ominous confirmation registered, and his expression settled on that of something contentious.

"Courtiers," he said, tearing his eyes away from Kára to look into the woods outside of Inferni's boundary. He did not need to explain -- even if she had recently re-joined the ranks, the rumors, the preparations, were not unheard of or unseen. Not to mention someone must had explained the situation to her already when she first joined. "They're close by." Too close, he thought to himself, deciding his quickly drawn judgement to be true.

He glanced at the woman, and when he started to walk again, he forked away from the border. The Courtiers weren't as close as his imagination would have liked to believe, but his pelt prickled and he did not slow as approached the area where the scent of two males from the kingdom lingered.

When he broke and rustled through some undergrowth, mindful to not hide his entrance onto the scene -- he did not have to, he thought brazenly, for he wasn't sneaking around like the Courtiers were -- he got a good look at them for half a second. One of them was on the small end, quiet and easily missed, having not much of a presence about him. Kennedy's eyes were drawn to the golden behemoth. Sun-bleached and green eyes -- a green eye -- he immediately recognized him as one of the main instigators of this whole mess.

"What are you doing so close to Inferni?" Looking for trouble? Kennedy thought to himself, but he thought better than saying those words, though his contemptuous expression spoke loud enough.

Edited

OOC: Eeeeeeeee. Much excite! Let the fun begin! Also, everything is perfectly fine!

If only she'd been here sooner she would have time to properly prepare for this situation. She'd heard the details and the severity of the Courtier's bitterness with Inferni and she was less than pleased. Her whole aura radiated animosity completely consuming the carefree and cheerful demeanor she'd come home with. She'd been training for the past few days and sparring when she could, trying to shake off her stupidity. She even looked into getting a weapon from Kasia even though she held a distaste for the man made tools of destruction. Having a weapon might prove to be useful in a tough situation where her teeth and claws may not be enough. She'd need time to acclimate herself to using one, and time was one thing she didn't have right now. Whatever she lacked in skill she hoped to make up for in pure determination to protect her pack.

Muzzle wrinkled with chagrin the fire furred Lykoi traveled along the border. Tall black legs carried her gangly yet muscular Secui form effortlessly over the landscape. She moved dutifully aside Kennedy who she found also patrolling and decided to stick with him. She didn't know him well but she figured staying with him might be smart if they happened to find something on their patrol. She almost hoped they would find something so she could take out this rage on someone. The wolf pack was causing useless drama and casting worry and fear into her pack mates. What was worse was that it was all based on groundless rumors. Wolves... Kára thought with an audible scoff as she trotted along. Crimson orbs washed back and forth over the landscape and nose scented the ground closely for any sign of trouble.

The two coyotes said nothing, sharing a common goal. Protect the pack. Eyes shifted to meet Kennedy's as her maw to speak. Instead of forming a sentence, their eyes conversed silently. Her own hellish gaze spoke of her severe dislike for the wovles. A second later her head tore away to scan the surrounding area. Hackles extended and a snarl rippled her muzzle as she pinpointed the direction the scents came from. They're done for. She spat as Kennedy mentioned they were close. Before much else was said the fiery figure bolted from where she stood and towards the two scents. Claws tore into the earth to propel her at full speed through the foliage. She was not graceful about her arrival, bursting through the bushes to skid before the two strangers. Halfwits! You need to turn around. Now. Kára commanded bluntly. Her eyes shifted between the two, but settled on the larger male. He was a brute composed of pure muscle. She noted that one of his eyes appeared to be missing and he looked like he'd taken a recent beating.

He was large, but she could take him down. She would fight with everything she had without a second thought. The other wolf was much less imposing and much smaller. They could take them out, they had to.

And I finally reply. Thanks for being on top of this with the PMs and stuff, guys! :>

Skoll sniffed the earth again, restless, and twitched his ears at Maciel's question. He scowled and turned his head to answer him when the rustle of foliage -- more than just the wind -- pricked his ears and raised his hackles.

An Infernian stepped from the undergrowth, mongrel-bred but as distinctly coyote as anyone who lived in the clan. Their olive eyes flicked over the pair of Courtiers, and the coyote spoke. Skoll lifted his lips to show his teeth in a sneering grin, his tail curled high over his back. His eye thinned, then darted to the gangly, ruddy-sand-colored girl who slipped from the undergrowth to her companion's side -- the pair of them both in Secui form, but smaller than Skoll's.

Her order drew a growl from the Seneschal, who drew up his head and took a small step toward them (and in front of Maciel). We're on neutral territory, just looking for our friend. His grin sharpened, revealing yellow fangs. If his speech seemed diplomatic and placating at first, it was clear now that that was not his intention. You're right, though, it is a bit close -- if only because this is where you fucking scavengers took him.

Word Count → 294 :: :D

When the first Infernian broke through the undergrowth, Maciel felt his hackles rise. Both of the newcomers were large - much larger than they should be - and, internally, the Courtier cursed their Secui forms, without which they would not have been so bold. A rush of hate instantly consumed him at the venom in their words and the look of cockiness in their stances. Savages. The ugly term leapt to his mind unbidden, but he did not find himself rejecting it.

Instead, his mind slipped briefly to the scene of his sister's murder. The blood. The screaming. A smile tugged absently at the huntsman's lips as he remembered. Overconfident canines, in his experience, often met terrible fates, and the same would apply for these. It did not occur to him that there was another one standing beside him.

In answer to the coyotes' threats, a soft growl rose in his throat, guttural and wolfish. Skoll stepped forward - slightly in front of him, too, which was a relief, considering that the knight was so much more powerful and capable than he - and returned the favour of aggression, his honeyed speech steeping quickly into knives. Maciel found himself both disturbed and approving. The thrill of the hunt was thrumming through his veins already... and he found himself looking at the newcomers in a way he had never viewed Luperci before: as prey. His eyes traced the outline of their swollen, Secui jugulars; the transition from shoulder to soft underbelly-- but, then, he suppressed his temptations.

The killing of prey was always satisfying, but canines, even Infernians, were something else entirely. Maciel forced down his adrenaline. Instead, he observed the unfolding scene with interest, secretly expecting the Seneschal to tear apart the coyotes, diplomatically or physically.

Sorry for the slowness! But :D

Kára was beside him heartbeats later, and he did not make any motion to smooth over her confrontational words as she insulted and ordered them. Instead he silently kept his eyes on them, lingering more on the golden man than on the smaller coywolf -- of course he would be the one to slink around the clan, and with his presence and rumored reputation, the situation was becoming less of a surprise to Kennedy.

Accusations laced with misleading courtliness drew the coymutt's brows together and he immediately snapped back, "We already told your King that we don't have his kid. You're better off chasing your own tail at this point, dog." It felt odd to him, trying to bring shame on one's blood. He adorned a doggish coat himself, and yet the words kept spilling from his mouth. The other saw him and his clanmate as nothing but coyotes, synonymous with scavengers, and he felt hot indignation rise up.

"Maybe if you didn't spend so much time instigating trouble, your precious prince wouldn't have gone missing." Any thoughts of defusing the situation weren't present in mind -- they were beyond making peace the moment the Infernians became aware of their presence, and he glanced at Kára as he spoke. She was bigger than Kennedy was, more of a match for the sun-bleached male, and she seemed like she had been ready for this to happen, if not eager. They would need that energy if it came down to it, and with how the conversation was going south, it seemed like it would be soon that it would be put to good use.

His olive-green eyes looked back to the pair and instead focused on the quiet one who was half-shielded. He almost seemed... invested in the situation, and Kennedy could feel his lips wrinkle. Did he find this interesting? Was this entertaining to him? Quick to judge, he set his sights on the smaller male, suddenly infuriated by the passive role he had taken as if he was a spectator.

She didn't like the look on their faces. The large one had a smart ass grin on his maw which she wanted to wipe clear off and the other one appeared blood thirsty. It almost made her laugh that the small wolf seemed to think he had some leverage. Instead, she grinned through clenched jaws shooting a poison glare at him. They were the same standing before her as the image she held firm in her mind. They all caused trouble, they all were arrogant and smug. Both wolves responded with feral growls. Kára's jowls pulled further back to reveal the shiny, spittle coated, daggers. The golden beast stepped forward and she snapped, wild and vicious, taking her own step towards him. As she opened her mouth to speak, Kennedy cut her off and inserted an acceptable response.

Looking for trouble, just like your simple minded king She spat the last bit, speaking slowly and meaningfully. Her eyes never left the pair, shifting between them both as she analyzed. The small one didn't seem to be a threat, completely silent with only that stupid violent expression. It meant nothing. He was hiding behind the larger wolf like a coward.

Your friend might as well be dead. You're all worthless. Maybe your skulls are just too damn thick to realize it. Her words were cold, but her body was hot with adrenaline which she feel coursing as her heart beat loud. Her hair stood on end at every point, hackles risen to their fullest. She could feel every ounce of her being gravitating towards the pair. She didn't want to stand here and talk, she wanted to act. Kára had been waiting for this moment, never searching for trouble but simply waiting and here it was. Her thin muzzle pulled back in a grin, tongue slipping from between dangerous fangs to lap at her drooling maw.

So what will it be. Turn around and go, or have us make you? She poked and prodded, attempting to rile the beasts up. Her words were cruel and demeanor imposing, but she couldn't bring herself to be the first one to attack. Still, she felt herself slowly moving towards them. Her paw was lifted in mid-step, ready to lung.

Figure we can make this a fast-paced, short-post thread now. :>

They spat insults, dismissed the missing prince, but when Kára mentioned that Pascal was as good as dead, a snarl rippled through the golden wolfdog and transformed his grin into something powerfully hateful.

Skoll said nothing further. Trading quips and slurs, posturing, sizing up the others—it was a waste of time.

He rushed at the ginger-and-sand female and opened his jaws to wrap them around her throat.

Word Count → 112 :: Quick post! Yay! Also, snooty little Maciel is not so snooty anymore. >:D

One of the coyotes, whom Maciel mistook by scent to be female, turned his sights toward him. The coywolf had little time to react. The golden giant beside him had suddenly thrown himself forward, teeth bared, and the reality of the battle shot through the huntsman's brain like a bullet.

Hackles bristling and ears laid flat, he skittered backwards for a moment, before launching himself at the remaining Infernian. More used to taking on deer, he dashed a step to the side, before attempting to whip around and throw himself at the other's shoulder, his fangs aimed at the crook of their neck so that he might drag them down.