Polluted Genepool - Private

[Zeth]

Broad daylight. It was broad daylight, and Zeth was stood in the territory of an enemy pack. Something about this screamed that it was wrong, but the sarcastic tones of his father whispered in his recent memory, just before they had split up. "Welcome home boy." Zeth shook his head, although the comment had not been a serious one, he still disagreed with it. This was not his home, true enough he had been born, somewhere in these lands. But it was not where his heart belonged. Zeth raised his head in pride, he was a Night Hunter, a Balkar. And his home was in the dark Balkan territories, and nowhere else.

The intense rays of Fenris burnt down on his back, but Zeth ignored this. Forest loomed to their right, the Carpathian mountains loomed just behind. Zeth wrinkled his black nose. Grasslands spread before his grey paws, empty grasslands. And the border they had trespassed through lay behind. He had become a Nihtgenge, and there was something about being out in the open that made him uncomfortable, standing here, so obviously. Although he had the training to sleek through unseen, being here so obviously struck a cord. But the vargs of GeRad were cowards, they were more likely to hear him speak his piece instead of just killing him. Although these were turbulant times, and perhaps it was too soon after the war. But his father had scolded him, asking him "Why not now?" To be honest, Zeth had no real reason for why not now. He was not as bold as his father, and he had not actually faced a proper fight before. It was not fear that was making him uncertain, but maybe it was the whole boldness of this idea.

It was so obvious and in-your-face, so to speak. And that was not a Nihtgenge's way. Of course, his father was a Lacan, he was all about pride, and striding fearlessly into battle. Zeth would creep fearlessly into enemy territory, but he did not have the muscular bulk that his father possessed, no matter how hard he had tried to work up such strength as he was growing.

Zeth sighed, well, here goes nothing. He lifted his grey head to the skies and let loose a howl, an immistakable Balkan howl, summoning the Alpha only. He wanted only Draeg.

Zeth grinned, a Balkar howl in GeRad territories, that was sure to bring back some recent memories.

Now that things were in motion, Zeth could feel the thrill of it all. This, was going to be priceless. Although technically he had only been a tool when he was younger, this plot was as much his now as he was his father's - and it was genius. His father was somewhere, invisible, but within earshot. But this moment, the coming moment, was all to Zeth.

His grey pelt was a dark grey, and it was only in the light of Fenris that sparks of amber shot up mingled with the grey, his eyes were a keen brown, and his frame was average, but he could move with such silent stealth only ever acheived by the Nihtgenge's of the Balkar. And now, he was waiting for Draeg. His father's revenge had been long in the waiting, and Zeth in turn hated the alphas of GeRad for what they had done to his father, and their general cowardice and pathetic attitudes toward life. A sadistic grin spread firmly across his maw. He was going to enjoy this.

[Draeg]

His heart pounding in his chest Draeg silently made for the utmost northern boarders of Ge-Rad, drawn by the Balkan call that had resonated from the fringes of his beloved land. High above him the wolf god Fenris shone down brightly upon his back, the golden light warming his back though it was hardly noticed by the amber dragga. Padded mitts setting down silently upon the ground he strode forward, paws kissing the earth with each tender step as he slunk through the winding trail of the forest. Coming to the meadow he broke off the main path, sinking beneath the flowing sea of golden grass that lay spread out amidst the rolling expanse.

Something wasn’t right, Draeg could feel it. He had been surprised by the Night Hunter’s request to meet, Ge-Rad having warded off a joint raid by the offending pack and their allies at Sarnes only a few weeks before. The amber varg‘s blood still boiled over the fact that his beloved daughter had been grievously injured while trying to warn the pack of the oncoming invasion, luckily her injuries hadn‘t been that serious. However thinking back on the raid Draeg couldn’t help feeling that it was too soon for another attack, even for a pack as bloodthirsty as the Baklar or Sarnes. It had to be a trap.

Amber pelt blending into the tall grass he made his way across the meadow with surprising stealth, practically disappearing in the cascade of golden shoots and grass. Nearing the border his eyes spotted a solitary figure waiting patiently amidst the field, muzzle uplifted in a sadistic grin. Amber eyes narrowing on the intruding varg Draeg took a moment to study him, frowning upon noticing how young the little cub killer was. For some reason or another the amber varg couldn’t help feeling a slight pang of nostalgia tug away at him, something about this pup stirring up a sense of familiarity within the dragga of Ge-Rad. It was almost as if Draeg had met him before however he quickly shook the feeling aside, this whelp wasn’t part of Ziev’s regular batch and he hadn‘t seen him at the during the raid. Obviously this kid was new. It didn’t matter, his fate was sealed the moment he set foot onto Ge-Rad.

The memory of his beloved Shayla lying injured still fresh in his mind he made his approach, making his way straight for the gray youth. He was tired of letting Sarnes and Balkar trouncing in and out of his domain as they pleased, arrogant in the fact that they were under the protection of Tratto’s Blessing so long as they announced their presence. It was time Draeg put an end to that, starting with this arrogant little whelp. "Sorry kiddo, it’s just the luck of the draw." he muttered silently to himself.
He had tried playing nice, it hadn’t worked. Perhaps it was time to use a different approach, maybe Ziev would get the hint to stop pestering his family if Ge-Rad started killing off some of his beloved packmates? Grass bending quietly beneath his paws he strode forward, making his way around the unsuspecting youth. He felt bad for what was about to happen but then he hadn’t been left any other choice, as Dragga he had to do what he could to protect his pack. Once he was done making an example of this pup he would move on to dealing with the bigger game. Claws sinking into the soft soil beneath him he sank down closer to the ground, muscles tensing beneath his shaggy pelt.

He came forward without so much as a sound, colliding with the younger varg with a resounding smack as he threw himself at the pup’s exposed back sending them both rolling further into the meadow. Using his momentum and superior size to his advantage Draeg pin his opponent to the ground, muzzle pulling back into a fierce snarl as rows of gleaming fangs made their presence known from his parting maw.
Using his weight to hold the younger varg down Draeg prepared to deliver the killing blow only to stop upon catching a closer look of his opponent, his attention centering on the pup‘s unusual coloration. His dark pelt, which had originally seemed to be nothing more then a simply gray, was in reality streaked with lines of amber that glisten brightly in the noonday sun. Eyes widening in recognition Draeg look down at the pinned youth beneath him, examining him closely. “Krael?”

[Shayla]

The golden rays of Fenris beat down on the fae's dark grey back and she lay in a little clearing, enjoying the peace and serenity and her distance from the nagging and the worrying of her fellow packmates. Shayla wrinkled her nose in distaste, and a shadow seem to cloud the clearing at the same time as it clouded her mind, her memories slipping back to the day when she had gained her injuries. The wounds on her leg and side were practically healed, covered by healthy grey fur and not a problem. The only one that remained slightly visible was the wound across her neck, showing only when she held her head high, and her self consciousness meant that she was trying to hide it most of the time. Growing up with three brothers meant that Shayla hated to show weakness.

The fae, so similiar to her mother in appearance, had only two traits that linked her to her only surviving parent - her long and bushy tail, and an amber fleck in her right iris. A visible shiver seemed to make her fur quiver, running down from the dark grey on her back to the pale grey underneath as the eerie howl cut through her peace. The Balkar? Back again? Shayla rose to her feet in an instant, lips curled into a snarl. This time, it would be her claws raking into their skin. They certainly had some cheek, returning here.

The call requested her father only, but like she was going to listen to that. Shayla had always been too damn curious for her own good, and if it was an ambush, like hell she was going to let Draeg walk into it on his own. She had already lost one parent, she wasn't going to lose another.

Springing into a run Shayla became a blur of fur between the trees. Although she tired more quickly than she did before the attack, she knew that she did not have far to go to the call, and she had not exactly had much of a strenuous day.

The trees were thinning, the sunlight became a pattern on her back, bringing out gold and amber on the grey. Flinty grey eyes hard with determination raked the distance and the meadow beyond the thinning trees, paws now slow and steady and most of all - silent. Then she saw him. The filth of a Balkar. Her lips curled into a snarl once again, the hackles rising along her back. But no, she wasn't about to go yet. She would emerge when her father did.

In fact, Draeg had already beaten her to it, even Shayla had not seen him creeping amongst the sea of green. Her ears perked and a satisfied grin spread across her face as the amber blur that she instantly recognised tackled the filth to the ground. Surging into a run, Shayla crossed the distance towards then, her initial smug grin at her father's "victory" fading to a confused frown as she noted his hesitation, and as she got closer and slowed to a walk, and eventually a halt, at his wide-eyed expression.

"Dad?" She said, inital confusion returning very quickly again to anger, the wound across her neck tingling as a reminder. "Finish him." She demanded. Voice growling, tail flicking behind her. He had muttered something to the Balkar befroe she had said anything that she had not caught. But even if she had it would not have made a difference, the name would have sparked no recognition in her. But now she couldnt understand why he was not sinking his teeth into the scum's throat.

[Zeth]

Patience was a virtue, and Zeth had been taught the value of it. Meanwhile, he quelled his irritational thoughts and replaced them with others. He was actually being distracted by his thoughts when a weight and a force was applied to his frame, but to his own credit, the Nihtgenge did not cry out in alarm, though a vicious snarl of irritance was emitted as he fell, no match for the elder vargs size and strength. Zeth was a Nihtgenge, not a Lacan.

Zeth's brown eyes hardened, glaring at the amber eyes of the GeRad Alpha. He had been right, it had been too soon after the war. His father was being way too bold here.

Hesitation. Hesitation was a weakness. Zeth grinned toothily, his eyes smiling a maniac's smile. He dared the mann to do it, to sink his teeth into his jugular. Cause he knew that he wouldn't.

His smile faltered at the strange word. Maybe he had misheard it? Crail? No, his mind told him, not a word. A name.

Krael.

Realisation dawned in his mind; that must have been the name they had called him. Although none of this realisation showed in his face or in his eyes. He merely cocked his head to the side, his smile remained, teasing the Alpha.

"Krael? You must be cracking up old man." He growled. Hard brown eyes flickered to a second varg, scowling, irritated that the call to summon only Draeg had been ignored and that a second had come too. Strangely though, this faemme looked a lot like he had heard the deceased Drappa had looked like. However, there was something about the way her neck was that made bells ring in Zeth's mind. Shayla. This was Draeg's eldest daughter, apparently she was very loyal to her family, and it amused Zeth that she was encouraging Draeg to kill him.

His attention turned to the amber furred mann that had him pinned to the ground and he grinned wickedly. "Go on, listen to your daughter. Kill me." He growled, smiling, his eyes grinning with the game. Dicing with death, just how he liked it. "Unless...." He mused, eyes flickered to the side, but then snapped straight back to stare into the depths of Draeg's amber orbs. "Unless I remind you too much of someone, someone you lost."

[Draeg]

Draeg’s heart was asunder with a menagerie of countless emotions as he stared down at the golden streaked youth beneath him though he managed to hide it behind a mask of surprise. Images of a tiny pup swaddled in downy fur rose from the depths of Draeg’s mind as the amber varg was suddenly joust back to the night Cwen had bore him their youngest son. Despite the seasons past he could still recall how he and Cwen had beamed with untold pride over the newborn pup, fawning over him a precious jewel as they had cleaned and nursed him. They had named him Krael, after the amber varg’s father whom Draeg had estranged shortly before departing his natal pack in Skein.

Yet what was supposed to have been a joyous event had been tainted by tragedy as not long after his birth Ge-Rad had found itself under attack by the combined forces of Sarnes and the Balkar, forcing the alpha pair to leave their newborn son unattended while they left to deal the invading force. Though the invading packs were eventually driven off the alpha pair came to discover that in the midst of the chaos their den had been raided and that there newborn son was missing. What had followed had been a frantic search that ultimately ended with the dishearten Dragga tending to a heartbroken Cwen as both parents mourned over the supposed loss of their son.

Just thinking about it struck a poignant chord within Draeg and the amber varg found that he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps there was more to this Night Hunter than he had originally thought, his mind suddenly alight with theories and suspicions. Was it possible that Krael hadn’t met the cruel end his parents had originally thought but rather survived and grown to be the brute before him? Could this wicked youth pinned beneath him really be his beloved Krael? He was certainly the right age and his features matched what Draeg could remember, but how to be sure?

Auds twitching he flicked his tail in acknowledgement at the arrival of another varg, amber orbs flickering over to the form of his eldest daughter, muzzle splitting into an amused smile upon noticing his captive’s annoyance. “You’d didn’t actually think I would be stupid enough to come alone did you?” he mused, tone laced with sarcasm. Bushy tassel flickering behind him he signaled for silence, casting Shayla a sharp glance as her demands reached his ears. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” he scold, his tone like ice. “Call the others and keep watch, I doubt this one’s alone.”

His eyes narrowing against the Nihtgenge’s taunts Draeg swung a paw at the younger varg, clawed limb connecting with the side of his head with a resounding smack. “Don’t assume to understand the reasons behind my actions pup!” he barked savagely, eyes smoldering. “I have no tolerance for you or your kind, not anymore! So I suggest you shut it before I decide to listen to my daughter and finish what I started!” The amber Dragga spoke with a grating clarity that signified he wasn’t bluffing and wouldn‘t hesitate to follow through with his threat if he felt provoked.
Cwen’s death had affected him deeply, so much so that it had changed the very principles Draeg had dedicated most of his life to. No longer did he concern himself with the lives of intruding vargs just for the sake of rival factions, sparing them obviously hadn’t dissuaded any attacks on his pack. If anything it made Ge-Rad nothing more than a source of ridicule amongst warring packs, in lieu of that particular revelation Draeg had decided on using a different approach to dealing with intruders. Being merciful clearly hadn’t worked, perhaps adopting a harsher approach would deter anymore unwanted intrusions into Ge-Rad?

Heavy paw pressing down on the Balkar’s sternum Draeg held him, bearing his full weight down upon the grinning youth. Fierce glare adoring his features Draeg descended down upon younger dragga, lips pulled back in a vicious snarl as they came face to face. “You’re not from Ziev’s normal brood, which means that you probably aren’t worth my time. Still somehow I doubt that Ziev would be stupid enough to send you here so soon after the attack which means you‘re going to be answering a few questions for me.” he explained, his tone growing cold and void. “If I feel what you tell me is inadequate or that you pose a threat to this pack or my family then I will kill you…regardless of who you might be! Now who are you and what is your business here?”

[Zeth]

Zeth shrugged, half-heartedly. "It matters not if you came alone or not. I wouldn't be so stupid as to try and kill you." Zeth said. 'Not yet....' He thought to himself. 'Then again, not ever.' He added as an afterthought. Serg wanted to kill Draeg, and nothing was going to get in his way. Zeth's life would no longer be worth living if he deprived the former First of that pleasure.

Zeth's eyes flickered to Shayla, and he smiled. "Oh, but if she leaves now, she'll miss all the fun. Besides, what's one Balkar pinned to the ground going to do?" His brown eyes rooting for the emotion in the faemme's grey orbs. "Besides, I'm sure GeRad doesn't need the whole pack just for one Balkar. You got me pinned, and I'm sure you can look after yourself little Lady." Zeth shot a smile at her before his attention flickered back to Draeg.

Zeth saw the paw swing towards him and braced himself for it's connection. The pain was nothing. He had been taught to withstand pain from a very early age, his instruction in Balkar ways had begun from the very minute he had been able to comprehend words.

Zeth merely grinned, a smile that found geniune amusement in this situation. Then the amber dragga began to speak again.

"Oh, so you do have a brain." Zeth commented wryly. "True enough, Ziev did not send me. I'm here for my own reasons." A grin spread itself across Zeth's maw. "My name is Zeth, and I thought I might come and see my biological family with my own two eyes. Apparently it's quite a large one. But hey, two down, how many is there left to go Draeg? I think I'll call you Draeg, since 'Father' is a bit of a stretch."

[Shayla]

The Balkar-filth ignored her, seemingly undaunted by her suggestion to her father to kill him, his attention mainly on Draeg who had him pinned and as helpless as a little pup. Shayla smiled smugly. The scum was not getting out of that one easily. The Night Hunter taunted Draeg, even encouraging him to do it. Maybe he was suicidal, knowing that trespassing into an enemy pack so soon after the war and summoning the Dragga would get him attention, dangerous attention at that. Maybe he was actually looking to get killed by the jaws of another, maybe throwing himself off of a cliff took too much guts for him, and he did not fill that requirement. Maybe he believed, or did not dare to chance, in the fabled story that your soul would never be able to find rest and be trapped forever in the water if he waded into the river to drown.

However, the next thing he said confused her a little. Why would this Balkar-filth remind her father of anyone? Shayla kept her mouth shut - for once. And only for a little while. Though she scowled haughtily at her father's comment and following command.

"I've rested enough." She said, with an air of finality. She was sick to the back teeth of lying around doing nothing in the dens, she thought he had known that. Though she was about to follow his orders when the Balkar's comment hit home on what she was actually thinking. She did not want to stay and miss all the fun, and she could damn well take care of herself. If there was another Balkar out there, surely they would have come to this one's rescue? According to their own propaganda and their own admissions they were no cowards. But then again, they never said they were loyal to each other either. Doubt as well as stubbornness and curiosity made her stay for long enough for her attention to be drawn far enough away from what Draeg had said about alerting the others and going to get help.

The name Ziev had been mentioned, and Shayla's rage and urge for revenge sparked up in a well kindled flame. She had learnt that it had been the First that she had met near the pond that night, and she would not forget it. Revenge was a dish best served cold, and she would certainly see that she got it. Ziev would not live through their next meeting, she would make damned sure of that.

Shayla stopped her curious frown before it even began to form on her face. He was here for his own reasons? What possible reasons could he have to be here? But before she could open her grey maw to ask, he let slip something that made her even more curious.

"Biological family?" She spluttered, not believeing that another member of GeRad would be related to another evil pack. But then he said it. Something about two down... and then mentioning that he would call her Dad Draeg instead of Father. Her grey eyes has flown wide, but they quickly narrowed in suspicion. "He's lying. He has to be lying. Right Dad?" She asked, her eyes searching her father's face questioningly. But deep down she almost knew it was true. For a second, she was questioning Draeg's fidelity again. Had he had another mate at another time? She had heard about all litters with Firefly, and with her own mother. None quite matched this youth's age. Apart from one. But that couldn't have been. That pup was dead, killed by a lynx.

[Draeg]

Eyes narrowing into needlepoint pin-pricks Draeg press down on the adolescent varg, abruptly applying more pressure to the streaked youth’s sternum. “You will ignore her and quit deviating from the conversation lest I decide you aren‘t worth my time and dispatch of you here and now.” he growled warningly.

Fur bristling he chanced a quick glance back at Shayla, casting her a reproaching look. As much as he loved his daughter sometimes Draeg couldn’t help wishing that she was just a tad bit more obedient, knowing that Shayla had inherited Cwen’s staunch attitude as well as her mother’s dazzling physical appearance. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t appreciate her company that upset him so much as it was the fact that she had chosen to challenge him in front of foreign party. Returning his attention back to wry youth beneath him the amber varg decided to deal with the matter at a later time, preferably someplace he wouldn’t have to worry about the prying eyes or outside interference disrupting his judgment.

Draeg listen intently to what his prisoner had to say, glad that he was finally getting something out of what was turning out to be a very strenuously one-sided conversation. He frowned at the amount of confidence the varg displayed despite his present situation, a bit ruffled at how easily the deceptive bravado seemed to come to him and the lack fear he failed to exhibit at his predicament. Draeg felt his hackles rise at Zeth’s offhanded remark about Cwen’s passing reached his ears, expression twisting into a mask of rage as he abruptly raked his claws savagely across the youth’s chest. “Make one more comment like that and I’ll rip out your throat!” he snarled, fangs flashing as if to emphasize the point.

He was somewhat taken aback by his daughter’s sudden output, having completely forgotten that Shayla was even present. Keeping his gaze on Zeth Draeg let out a somewhat annoyed sigh. “Shayla, how many litters did I have with your mother?” he growled irritably, having already guessed her reaction without even having to look at her. It hurt him to know that Shayla could be so quick to assume he slept with any femme that he happened upon but at the moment he didn’t have the patients to lecture her about his fidelity.

Lashing his tail behind him furiously he resumed his interrogation of his would-be son. “What is your purpose here, your real purpose?” Draeg questioned. “You say you obviously didn’t come all this way to learn about your heritage despite what you might say and from the look of it I highly doubt you want anything to do with me so someone must have put you up to it. Who sent you?”

((-sighs- sorry for taking so long to reply, tings have been a little strenuous over here giving me a bad case of writers block. Personally I think this post could have been much better then it is))

[Serg]

The sun beat down on the black back of the ebon Dragga, and Serg snapped away a fly that had the cheek to try and land on his pelt. Soon enough they would come and answer Zeth's call. This was it, this, was the moment that he had been waiting for, just a little more patience and it would all be happening, exactly as planned.

Although it turned out, not quite exactly as planned - as an amber blur streaked out from the grass and pinned Zeth to the ground. Serg felt a twinge of annoyance, Zeth didn't even try to fend him off. He was too cocky sometimes. Serg waited, he had positioned himself downwind of Zeth, and within hearing range. He could hear all that was being said. It seemed that the pathetic excuse for a Dragga actually recognised his son, straight from the off. But he also recognised the stench of the Balkar when he smelt it. Evidently Draeg was determined not to come off as the snivelling excuse for a wolf, which would make a change. Maybe Zeth had been right and it had been too soon after the war to put all this into action, but Serg didn't care. He was not afraid to rattle GeRad's cage a little more.

Serg waited a little longer, waiting for the perfect moment when he could enter the joyous little social event that was unfolding before his smouldering amber orbs. What made this treat twice as sweet, was the appearance of a grey faemme, which Serg almost mistook for Cwen, until he realised that it was not the Drappa he had so despised, but her cursed first-born daughter. She was a lot like Cwen in character it seemed too, and her refusal to go and get help, aided by Zeth's snide comments to spark her curiosity, worked to Serg's advantage. If he and Zeth were outnumbered, even by the GeRad sikla's, they would have to retreat, which was not was Serg wanted to do.

Serg rolled his eyes as Zeth allowed Draeg to smack him. The boy was useless at times. At times Serg wished that he had actually been his biological father, maybe then he would have the muscle and the strength to fend off such a varg as Draeg. Serg shook his head, he had done the best he could out of weak blood. Zeth was a good fighter in his own right, even if he did lack the superior strength that the Lacan's of the Balkar posessed.

Sensing his moment had come when Draeg rent Zeth's chest with his claws, Serg crept forward. He may have been a Lacan, but he could move with surprising stealth.

He heard Draeg question Zeth about who had sent him as his black legs curled into a spring as he used his muscular bulk and superior strength to an easy advantage as he toppled and pinned the grey faemme.

Paying her absolutely no attention, he turned his fiery amber eyes to Draeg, a sickly smile written upon his maw, displaying his collection of sharp white teeth. "That would be me." He growled, black tail swaying slowly behind him, adrenaline pumping through his black heart, suddenly very aware that he could so easily kill Draeg's first-born daughter right now. His claws flexed, digging into the flesh on her neck. Just a quick bite, and it would all be over for her - the thought was intoxicating.

Through the strain of restraining himself, Serg kept his attention on Draeg, motioning to Zeth. "Is this how you treat your own flesh and blood?" He queried. "Well I can't say much for your parenting skills then, but I strongly suggest you don't try to kill him, another scratch on his body, I'll make an even worse one on your little daughter here." 'And trust me, I'll enjoy it.' He added to himself. Draeg's violent reaction to seeing Zeth here might not have been in Serg's anticipated scenario, but he did know one thing for sure - the dispicable amber specimen did love his little runts.

[Shayla]

Shayla frowned. Surely he didn't mean the pup Cwen had given birth to on the night the Balkar attacked? Then it hit her suddenly. Shayla's lips curled. So this Balkar scum was her brother? He had been stolen in the dead of the night, from under their very noses, and transformed into this heartless enemy of their pack. Of his own family.

Well, it certainly held an air of sickness that the Balkar thrived off. Turning family member against family member. Shayla fought to keep a whine from escaping her silver maw. She had always loved her family, they were what she clung to, who she fought for. The thought of having to fight against one of her own blood was sickening. This varg, her brother, had the same blood as she had, the same DNA coursing through their veins. Such a betrayal was unthinkable. Why didn't he run away from his lying kidnapped when he had had the chance? Why did he stay loyal to the brute who could not possibly care for him in the slightest?

It all happened so suddenly that the grey faemme didn't have any time to react. She had been so focused on her own thoughts, and not being able to comprehend that this Balkar was in fact, her own brother, that she didn't see it coming. Shayla couldn't help but let out a gasp of surprise as a great weight and force toppled and pinned her down. Her grey eyes flown wide, she was suddenly looking up at the white teeth and black form of her surprise attacker. Instinctively, she tried to fight her way free, but this new monster's superior strenght and muscular bulk made that impossible. Her head began to clear enough for her to recognise the black varg as Serg. A thrill of dread accompanied the realisation that dawned within her. She could not fight her way free of this one - her life was completely in the claws of this merciless brute.

At the black monster's ultimatum, at the threats he spun, Shayla's lips curled. "Bring your face a little closer and I'll give you something to remember me by." She snarled, bushy tail whipping the air in defiance.


(ooc - aye it sucks. and sorry for the wait guys! RL been irritating)

[Draeg]

No sooner had Draeg’s muzzle closed then a clamorous uproar rose up behind him. It all happened so fast that the amber male’s mind barely registered anything at all. His paw finding Zeth’s throat he shot a passing glance over his shoulder to find Shayla struggling helplessly beneath the towering frame of the former First. “Serg.” The words came out unbidden, seething with nothing but malice and contempt for the varg standing over his daughter.

He mentally chided himself for allowing himself to become distracted with Zeth’s interrogation, knowing that had he been more attentive to his surroundings that he might have been able to notice Serg before he’d been able to get close enough to restrain Shayla. Eyes narrowing on the onyx brute Draeg felt a low growl escape him, amber orbs smoldering with hate as he watch him curry his claws further into his daughter’s neck. He could see Shayla struggling defiantly against her captor’s hold, though trapped beneath such an experienced opponent Draeg knew that his daughter had no hope of escaping on her own. Part of Draeg wanted to rush the former First and free his daughter, however the amber Dragga knew that he would never be able to reach Serg in time to save her.

Still holding Zeth Draeg turn his attention back toward Serg, amber orbs locking with one another as he met his fiery stare evenly. “Only the ones I need to knock a little sense into.” he shot back. “Though I’m surprised to see you’ve taken an interest in preserving my bloodline considering how hard you’ve tried to end it.”

Despite the severity of the situation Serg’s appearance actually explained a few things Draeg had been wondering about Krael’s disappearance and supposed death. Unlike Shayla the amber varg had a pretty good idea how things had played out after his son‘s disappearance, Serg had obviously made off with the pup to raise him as his own, probably someplace far from Ge-Rad beyond the reach of the mourning parents or anyone that might alert them to his plans for their stolen offspring. Safely hidden from discovery he had begun training him, conditioning him to join the Balkar and preparing him to confront his family. Draeg knew that Serg would have had to find a way to ensure the pup’s loyalty to him at some point, it wasn’t too hard to realize that the ebon Dragga had probably spent the better part of Zeth’s childhood filling his head with lies.

Needless to say Draeg found that he wouldn’t be entirely surprised if Zeth thought Serg was his actual father, a revelation which Draeg found ironic in itself. “You are more like me than you know, pup.” he found himself muttering.

Serg’s ultimatum invoked somewhat the same reaction from Draeg as it had from Shayla, his lips curling back to reveal a set of polished fangs. “Harm one hair on her body and I’ll snap his neck right here!” he shot back, his paw sinking down further into Zeth’s throat. “I’ve lost him before, and if need be I can afford to lose him again. So don’t think for a moment that I won’t do it!”

Logic dictated that negotiating with Serg would prove fruitless without suitable incentive Draeg opted to play by his opponents rules, knowing the former First probably rather cooperate then risk sacrificing the one thing he had base all his plans around. Even if Serg did not care for Zeth Draeg suspected that he knew killing the pup would mean that he had forfeit his former position for nothing, all of Serg’s sacrifices would be in vain.

((Sorry for the lateness))