Lost the Way

[Rasha]

A pungent alien scent stung her nostrils like a bee as Rasha wandered through the dark woods. She had been in this unfamiliar territory since the yesterday's dawn, and everytime she changed direction she seemed to be entering deeper into the heart of it. The scent was strong and disgusted her, the stench of many males all in one place without one faemme to soften the harsh scent - and every now and then Rasha would ahve to shake her head to clear it. Though the proud faemme would never admit it, she was lost in this hostile place, and becoming increasingly ill at ease as she registered each different scent, identifying the males, each of which was strong and in good health, a threat to her safety as she moved swiftly past crooked trees and jagged rocks that could rip her flank open with one wrong move. Of course, being a former Drappa, Rasha had faced worse than this, but nevertheless it was a horrifying experience.

Long ago, Rasha had led the Pack Litha, far to the east. She had been a solitary Drappa, and constantly turning her nsoe up at suitable males due to the fact that she felt nothing for them. Then Kahn had came into her life. Kahn, the sweet loving strong dominant arctic wolf had stolen her heart, taking his place as Dragga of Litha and giving the pair a litter. Two cubs were born, Tahmores Slash and Enigma, both of which were the apples of her eye, the two most important things in her life - she would murder and die for them. But one day, when Rasha had let them out of ehr sight for a few moments, to go fishing with Kahn, her life changed. Kahn, her beloved gentle kind Mate had commited the greatest act of treachery to her - for when the red wolf had searched for her cubs and found only Tahmores Slash, and eventually came upon Kahn with no sign of Enigma. From what Kahn said, her litte Daughter had drowned after falling into the river, but Rasha knew the truth. It had been there in his eyes, Kahn had deliberately pushed her in. In despair, Rasha had driven Kahn off and given Tahmores up to a pair of Kerls before eventually leaving Litha herself, unknowing of the peril she was leaving it in or that Enigma was still very much alive and going by the name of Arctique.

((So crappy, but I wanted to get this done.))

[Captain Z]

Saphiric Eyes tore through the shaded forests to reveal the darkest skies of spring. It had rained. Over and over again. Endless showers and violent winds rattled the dead limbs of the forests. Forests that were once bear and dry throughout the window, now thick with toxic leaves and broken branches. Downed willows grew hollow and jagged vines tore apart those who wished to escape their terrors and mistakes.

Those of which who mostly failed. The fact that woods became intensly thick and wet, became a nightmare. They run away from the Hunters, falling into the mud, being shredded from jagged rocks, for you can barely see your own paws. And an old tale sang that the sun never kisses a balkar wolf. Scary enough, a venture here, you will never see the sun kiss the ground. And when you cant see the ground right infront of you, you'll never set eyes on the charcoal furred hunter ready to dismantle you piece by piece...

The Second stretched slightly, his black claws shredded the undergrowth. His rusted scarlet auds twitched slightly, disgusted at the fact of utter silence. Nothing but, well, more rain. Thats what it seemed to be, a light shower of some sort, but he couldnt feel it. Many of the balkar wolves had moved the place they called shelter closer to the boarders, some beyond the boader and into the open fields nearing Sarnes. The First he hadn't seen in awhile. Which was some good news finally. The second never really appreciated the first for who he was. To slow of a wolf, and never cold the a bone. He had a heart. And something worthless Kerls call 'love'. He had a mate name Eveline. The second knew Eveline, and had brought himself closer to Sarnes.

Though as the Second spat at the silence, a cloud of midnight black rose from the tree tops, breaking the silence into quarrels and squeaks. As much as Ziev hated the ravens, they served a purpose. The unwanted doorbell to death. When the ravens rise from the tops, theres no more going home. Perhaps Ziev now had someone to share a meal with. Sit down and have a nice chat and all. Oh, and whats on the menu? " Surprise." The words spilled from his jaw along with the mists of his breath.

It didnt take very many foot steps for Ziev to catch sight of the kerl. A faemme it was. Looking for a mate? The second gave a smirk, politely giving his presence away to the left of the Kerl. "Lost? Awh. Poor Thing. Perhaps I can intrest you in a drink?" The Second love to tease his prey. How it was so fun. Great fun. And hey, the taste of fresh blood is just a bonus, and I'll drink to that.....Cheers.

//Sorry. mine was pretty bad, i havnt posted IC since christmas \\

[Nearo]

The rain prevailed. And with it came the ever moving fog and mist that shrouded the Balkar lands, making it hard even for the territory's residents to find their way from border to the heart. One such male was slinking miserably in the spring downpour, his pelt - a mixture of browns that faded into a stark white - was sodden now and stuck up in spikey tufts, giving his foolish nature a far more comical appearance to go. Growling in annoyance at the rain as it thwaked the top of his muzzle, the Nihtgenge snarled and snapped his slender yet deadly jaws at the droplets which were being thrown down upon him.
Grumbling irritably as his attempts made little difference, the Balkan mann slunk silently into the shelter of the dead undergrowth...though that did little to prevent him getting wet further...it only made the earth and debris cling to his paws and underbelly, infuriating him further. Snarling in frustration at his failing attempts to rid himself of both the rain and dirt, Nearo let out a savage growl and barked to the skies as he leapt back onto the paw trodden trail. "Go away!" he snarled bitterly, head low and his dripping tail held up over his back.

Though the scent of a faemme caught his attention and allowed his steaming mood to simmer as it drifted towards him on the moist air, her scent as thick as the humidity itself. Perking his auds and his snarl twisting from a snarl into a sneer, the fool slunk forward, his large paw treds silent and inaudible to any varg or lera.
Padding off the paw trodden track and diverting through an overgrown trail through the udnergrowth, Nearo lowered his body - no longer caring about the dirt and debris that clung to his white underbelly and legs - making his way towards the edge of a clearing, all the while remaining low and hidden.

He saw her. The red and grizzled grey pelted faemme, whose species was clear to him as red varg. Her type was often far smaller than the grey and timber - which he himself was. Though it was clear that her slender bodice was smaller than his own and most male varg, she held a strong build which made it clear that she was not of a weaker rank...or at least never used to be. She had to potential of becoming a strong fighter, so this at the moment...Nearo would avoid (all he wanted was some fun to take him mind off the rain after all).
However, just as Nearo was lifting his paw to make his entrance before her, the dark shadow of a varg appeared from her left and seemed to swell in size as he rounded on her. The Nihtgenge stopped in his tracks as his ochre orbs widened. Nearo would be a true fool if he did not agree that his Second in Command was intimidating - to say the least - though he did not fear him exactly. He was a wise fool, enough to realise that giving Ziev space and avoiding his eyes and jaws would keep him out of harms way.
Knowing that he would soon be scented out by the intelligent Second sooner or later, Nearo let a slight growl escape his muzzle as he slunk from the undergrowth and entered on the faemme's right side, his head held low and tail held rigid. The rain and ceased slightly since he had made his way towards the clearing, and now the dirt and debris which was entangled within his ivory fur remained there - failing to be washed away by the before so brutal droplets.

[Rasha]

(Bah! I'm fed up with having italics all the time.))

Twin explosions of scent hit Rasha's senses. Both of them were masculine and intwined with the foul stench that hovered over the area, but the sources were clearly of different ranks. One of them was that of one low in rank, and throbbed with foolishness and stupidity - while the other, was far more worrying - the owner was clearly dominant and deadly, making Rasha think of a dark damp place shrouded with fog, so that if one were to walk there they would not know what was coming. Stopping in her tracks, the faemme raised her muzzle, testing the air to see where the scents came from, but to no avail, for the breeze had caught them, twisting and turning them until it was impossible to tell where the individual male's lay. This was cause for her concern, and she twisted her head round to glance over her shoulder. Rasha knew they were watching her, she could feel their eyes burning into her form, examining her and overall observing her movements before they made their own. It frightened her, and, for a former Drappa who had had little cause for fear, it was a strange emotion, and, Rasha hated it. It was a Sikla's feeling, not that of her old status as Drappa of Litha - but then, she wasn't that anymore, was she?

It was the source of the menacing scent that made himself known first. The sly words seemed to pass over her form, causing an itchiness in her pelt as she turned to face him. He was ebon in hue, but it was his eyes that caught her intention, frozen pools of sapphire that seemed to looked right through her, burning into her own before she managed to break eye contact. This Varg was not of her world, he deserved to be treated with respect. But there was something else, not in his voice but in his scent. He was a threat to her - and unlike most threats, he wanted to be a threat. "My thirst is quenched," She growled steadily, uncomfortably aware of how different they were. She had a rich accent, the sort that came from her lands, and because of ehr breed she was smaller and slenderer. In her own species, Rasha was large yet elegant and swift, equal to any Mann, but compared to this timber Varg, she was small and slender. If it cameto a fight with any of these Vargs it would be better to use speed rather than strength.

But even as she was assessing the situation, the second wolf presented himself. He was far smaller than the ebon Mann, but still taller than Rasha, and his hue was a brown-grey with eyes of sickening ochre. However, there was not much of a glint of intelligence in his orbs, and she felt, well, not safer, but far more less threatened with him. However, as it was clear to the two were allies or even in the same Pack, it just made things a whole lot worse.

[Captain Z]

Coal Paws fell deeply into the mud of the undergrowth, and the similiar hued claws clicked with a sound rhythm as they reached the solid rock only beautifully plated by a few layers of mud. It was one of the reasons that the balkar lands brought such horrid growth, and why nothing that did grow, lived a happy life. The claws continued to lift and fall, his left forepaw dragging along the rock beneath. A smile alit his maw, as streams of falling rain carved through the cravasses of 3 crimson scars that became split by the stained ivory of his smile. A black full grown balkar now stood in the clean route of the faemme.

The faemme was an older wolf, or so told a worn-down facade. Rare was it that an older faemme decided they could just wander in the Night Hunters territory. And as pleasant as it was to have a slight change from the normal worthless cub, the second of balkar would never change his heart. Old or young, there is no free stroll on Ziev's forepaws.

"Not thirsty enh?" A low cold voice rolled off the second's maw, followed by a slight snarl . Well then if the faemme chose not to play with Ziev, then, you'd meet the other half of Ziev. Unfortunately, he isnt so kind, or so to speak. Several packs have sent wolves here to offer terms, ever since learning of the neutral behavior between the Balkar and List. Intresting terms they had. Offering food and drink, and even the services of their lone females, as sick as it was. All in the name for rubbish like protection, or for rescue of a captured cub. However, regardless of what they put of the table, there never would be a negotiation with a Balkar. Not with Tamra, Not with Leoh, Not with Serg. And who would Ziev be to break such a tradition?

Silence longed between the Second and the Faemme. Though he wouldnt wait in the rain while some lil' miss took her sweet lil' time to speak up. "Well, if you havn't any words that I want to hear there lass, then I suggest you save your worthless breath, or think of something nice, ratherly quickly. " He stepped forward, saphiric eyes took a quick glance at the other Balkar, and gave a slight nod. A look in his eyes told a quick command to begin decending on the fae so the two wouldnt waste the night away on a worthless cause. The Second halted a few feet away, leaving enough room just incase the faemme tried something real stupid. The water continued to roll off the black patched pelt of the Second, as a rusted hued left forepaw extended the sharp coal claws, held in plain view as a little friendly encouragement for the faemme.

//Either I lost my touch, or it's really late.\\

[Rasha]

((Waits for Nearo.))

[Nearo]

((I have no muse and plus...Ziev's post was sort of more directed at you Rasha. Go ahead and post guys. I'll catch up when my muse returns!))

[Rasha]

Rasha tipped her head to one side as he qouted her on not being thirsty, the malice in his voice not disguising the fact he was toying with her, waiting like a coiled viper for the right moment to strike. His eyes seemed to burn into ehr form, those cold pools of sapphire that showed no emotion fixed on her, a clear warning that he was aggressive. It was only a matter of time before the monstrous Varg would unleash something upon Rasha, whether it be verbal or physical. Suddenly, he advanced, softly menacingly growling out threatening words, acting as if...as if the territory was his. Both Vargs before her carried the same thick Pack-scent, but never had it occured to the red faemme that he was Dragga, and if not then very high in ranking. He was younger than her, but the only advantage this would give the ex-Drappa was experience, and if he ruled a Pack then their experience was bound to be the same. Rasha did not take a step back to show she was intimidated, but she lowered her tail and head, showing that she knew he was the dominant of the three, acting submissive so as to hopefully stifle his aggression. "Is this your territory?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her. "I am a newcomer here, and am still learning the boundaries. I assumed this was more Kerl lands, and I have been lost here for the past afternoon. If this is your territory then I apologise for trespassing. I have not hunted nor marked this place in any way."

((V. crappy. Curse you Nearo.))

[Captain Z]

The second smirked slightly, the familiarity of those words from the newcomer came with no surprise, his twisted mind recollected each occasion that a trespassing cub claimed to be lost and unable to find home. His aggressive antics subsided slightly at the fun in the thought. I'm lost, sir, can you please help me find my way home? His maw alight with a darker smile, as the childish voice of the past rang through his crimson auds. What added the humour was that it seemed to be a full grown faemme this time around.

"Just a kerl then, eh? No pack?" the low toned voice sounded, as Ziev padded to a small water sink, that the heavy rains imprinted, his claws clicked with uniform rhythm, dragging on the solid surface as one paw replaced the next. " You must be new around this valley. Sort of lonely though, the kerl life, that is. " Ziev smirked again, his taunting voice sounded, although he did sound a little honest, yet the second was still a very dark, misleading wolf, with a promising patience, that still always led to get him what he seeked. The thought brought him to run the reddish tongue across his chops. The second paused his pace leaning forward and taking small elegant sips of the frigid waters.

Turning toward the faemme, his saphiric eyes gave a quick glance around, sighting all the familiar features that made the Second feel at home. " Well then, I'll teach you a little something, since you are new to this lands." The second padded a bit closer, while his low toned voiced sounded again. "Where you see the trees lose their vibrant green, where you see branches, twisted and broken like herla ribs, where you see the shadows forever, and a low thick mist endlessly plaguing the floor..." The second paused, as he brought his right forepaw, extracting his primary claw and placing it on the floor between the two wolves. He brought his gaze to meet the faemmes, as he dragged his claw neatly across as if to make a straight line between the two wolves. "This is where your territory ends, and ours begins."

//been awhile since ive posted\\

[Nearo]

((Sorry, I'm a tad rusty with this...hope that you don't mind it being kinda short and crappy >.< ))

Nearo remained on the outskirts of the faemme and Ziev, his head low and his long legs crouched slightly. He was not cowering before Ziev and this bitch, no, he was merely falling into his Nihtgenge stance and feeling as though he must become unseen. Ochre eyes were wide as they took in the events before him - it was entertaining to watch the Second work with an intruder...to watch and learn from his malicious words and manners. Caniving he was and greatly threatening in his ways. However that was not the way of Nearo. Nearo was a fool. He enjoyed to make himself seem like nothing more than a thick headed varg, a fool indeed. However, he was not a fool - the oposing varg was to believe his tricks. For when they least expected it, Nearo would pounce. He would unleash his madness apon them and take them down. He was light pawed, nimble and incredibly swift.

Growling slightly as the tension between the two rose, Nearo grinned manically as he finally caught onto the conversation between the two and scuttled round Rasha, throwing his muzzle forward and snapping at the air by her side, his serpant like tongue flicking out before being trapped once more behind his flashing ivory razors. His mad eyes flashed with insanity as he continued on until he scurried behind Ziev, his long neck craning out and his sleek head poking out from the Second's back, showing that he was on Ziev's side of the line, not the kerl's.

[Rasha]

Rasha refused to be intimidated by Ziev, though it was probably a foolish decision. Meeting the black Varg's gaze, the russet she-wolf waited until Ziev had finished his threatening speech before she responded. "Well that's what a Kerl is, is it not?" Rasha said, her voice carefully neutral as she spoke. One wrong move could end her life. "The life of a Kerl only feels lonely if you yearn for a Pack. I much prefer my own company." Saying this, the russet Kerl continued to watch the Second, as he stalked toward her, drawing a line in the earth, his voice low and dripping with malice. Deep inside her, the ex-Drappa felt a flicker of fear - but she doused it. I've lost everything, She thought silently, What mroe have I got to lose? It was true. The faemme had lost her Pack, her love and her Daughter, in fact, she had lost her son as well, though not his life, but his love.

"Thanks, I'll remember your advice," Rasha dipped her head slightly, keeping her eyes on Ziev, not about to let her guard down. "And seeing as I have not crossed that line, I'll be going on my way." Suddenly, Rasha noticed the other Night Hunter. He had scuttled round to her rear, blocking off any possible escape. Would she have to fight? The pair of them would tear her to pieces and leave the rest for the crows. "Let me go," She demanded, addressing both of them eyt staring at the midnight Varg.