My Balkar Blood {serg and whoever else}

[Gryffin]

The dawn was crisp and sharp with chill as a silhouette, silent and swift merged in and out from the dancing shadows among the forest of Transylvania.There fleeted a femmora, of white underbelly, sandy body and black furred shawl as she slipped through the bracken like a phantom. Stealth and cunning built her as the tri hued beta pressed on. She never doubted her directions and knew this path by heart.

Gryffin of List went on, her pelt melted in with the black shadows and all that was visible were two glittering jewels of emerald that created her eyes. Gryff moved forward and stopped, her ears alert as she eased into the shadows. She grinned, as the scent of balkar became stronger. She had left List in the early mornings and had told her mate Sudak she was off to visit Firefly. Yet of course the tri hued varg had decided to make a detour and travel toward the balkar lands, a pack which she had envied since she was just a whelp. Oh how the tales and stories of the balkar grew into her life as she grew up. After all she is the daughter of one of the most respected and most feared of the Balkan Firsts.

Gryffin scented a fallen log and looked about. She was pregnant, though her stomach had not yet swollen enough that it was evident upon sight. Gryffin eased her steps, the balkar border was not far now. She had grew up, wanting to join the balkar herself, yet she had soon learned that only males were enabled such privilege. Her brother's though, Fernlick and Baleful had joined their ranks, and Gryffin had barely enough time to see them. Their mother, Shatocwnn was the mate of the red Leohlic, a much admired Second turned first when her uncle, Tamra had stepped down. Her mother as well had been accept among the ranks of the balkar, and possibly the only femmora that had ever been granted such privilege. Gryffin sighed now both her parents were gone. Her uncle Tamra, and aunt bila, lyft.. all were gone.

Gryffin went on. She had not been in the Balkar lands for a while now. The last time she remembered being in here was when she had visited her father, but that had seemed so long ago. She remembered when she often trekked here as a cub. Gryffin smirked as she padded deeper into the Balkar lands. And she stopped, her head was held high as she searched, her emerald orbs scanning the shadowy depths. It had been long since List had had a visit with the Balkar, their first allies. And since the leaving of her father Gryffi had long wondered what line they were on now? After all she wanted to meet Serg herself. She had met him on one occasion but briefly, barely enough time to even utter a greeting. She knew him as a dragga of two fearsome packs. Gryffin acknowledged that and remembered the days when List had been as fierce, feared by wolves as if they were another balkar pack. But those days had dwindled as their numbers began to dwindle. But now it was time to revive what had been lost. Now the daughter of a Great was here to pay a visit, to tell him of news and a greeting of a long absence and a long hiatus.

A tri colored wolf stopped, and threw its muzzle into the air, calling forth the shadow hued Dragga and First of the Putnar from his shadows. The wolf with blood of the balkar, but eyes of a Fae let her song wash out through the lands, something so sharp that broke the eerie silence and made the forest shiver from the noise and it seemed to snarl at the visitor.

[Serg]

blood drizzled down the powerfulmaw of a large varg as he flicked up his blackened head, the last dribblets of his meal being wolfed down in the manner of a few seconds. a pinky tongue emerged from his mouth to lick away the blood of the hare that had been his dinner, for a lot of the time Serg found himself not eating with the rest of the pack, either pack, but catching himself a lone dinner and eating his meals in solitude. sweet solitude, away from pesky trespassers, annoying whelps and vargs who merely wished to higher themselves in Serg's opinions. the latter's aims always failed as they were swiftly put back into place with the quick snapping of teeth and a snide snarling comment.

Serg sighed and wandered away from the carcass of the hare, leaving the meagre leftovers for the flying scavengers to quarrel over. his muscular bulk moved through the dark trees with surprising stealth, and he paid no heed to his dreary surroundings, the movement and the sound of the pained shadow-swathed trees, the malicious whispers of the chill wind, or the brooding bulk of the mist that so often weaved itself around the Balkar lands. this was his home, his proper home, the first place in his life that Serg had ever wanted to call home. ever since he had been young this place had called out to him, and he had answered it's summons and managed to join the proud ranks of the Night Hunters. although his dreams had never excelled to become anything more than just an ordinary Balkar, for that was honour enough. he had been overwhelmed when Leohlic had chosen him as a Second, and that was not the end of his surprises. his current situation of two packs had never been part of his plans, and the strain of two packs laid heavy on his short temper.
but at least now the weather was cold, his blood did not boil in the heat, and he could control his thoughts to rational thinking, rather than just animal feriocity and brutish actions.

as Serg emerged from the dark woods, his burning amber gaze shifted to the crisp and clear sunrise in the east and his lip curled ever so slightly. he was, and always had been, somewhat a creature of the night. the darkness was his preference, which made a cliché of the title Night Hunter. but Serg did not care, why shoudl he waste his time worrying what others thought?

his black mass stiffened and tensed as a howl rang out, cutting through his musing thoughts. he growled deeply, a rumble that resonated in his chest before spilling out of his maw and into the chill air. that was no howl of any balkar. that was a howl of a faemme.

skirting a thicket Serg quickly and silently made his way towards the source of the sound. it was not a howl he instantly recognised, although part of him thought there was a tinge of familiarity in it, however it was no faemme of Sarnes. if it was, then maybe this trespass would be forgiven with the correct amount of punishment and explaination, but until he found out what this was all about, his maw distorted into a savage snarl and he bounded faster. scenting the air as he went. he could smell her now, close enough for him to slow his pace and advance more slowly and more silently.

now there was a clump of bracken between him and his quarry, and Serg smiled slyly. 'what faemme thinks herself worthy enough to step into the lands of the Balkar?' he growled as he prowled about the vegetation, suddenly appearing into view at the side of the faemme. some bell in the back of his mind rang, and he could not shake off the sense of familiarity. there had only been one faemme that had ever been granted permission to go where she willed in the realm of the Night Hunters, and that faemme was dead. and yet, Serg could not shake off the feeling that he had seen this faemme somewhere before. 'go on little missy, tell me why i should let you live?' he growled.

[Gryffin]

Gryffin let her maw fall, her emerald gaze piercing the darkness of the forest cove. Her ears twitched as she felt a rather chilling wind erupt from the inner circle of trees and travel through the landscape like a large shadowy wing. But Gryffin stayed were she stood, her tail swayed silently along with the current of crisp air. The terrain was silent. Deadly silent.

From the corner of her eye though she saw a black shape moving. Gryffin turned but she did not let out a threatening growl of any kind. Her emerald hues glittered under the partial light, or whatever source of light could penetrate the rich opaque curtain that nourished the balkar lands. Was it a mistake to have traveled here alone? Gryffin shook of her doubt. She had been here many times before, though most of the time only the dragga had known of her presence, and on some occasions no one had known that a stray puppy had wandered in, looking for a varg of blood kin. Many times had she been reprimanded, and though the words were stitched to her brain like a scar, still she disobeyed.

Curiosity had brought out the tri hued she wolf, and a want of knowledge overcame her sense and now that she wolf found herself her starring at a shroud of darkness that was both comforting and a menace at the same time.

Gryffin now stood, the light growling of another sent a tingling feeling down her spine that made her hairs raise. Her head turned slowly to meet the eye of an ebony wolf. His eyes sharp and menacing while his poise was large and threatening. Gryffin took in his account and observed his stance. Now was this the Serg that many had feared? Gryffin grinned and twitched an ear. Her head dipped in respect and her tail fell limp. She turned her body, so that she now faced him and blinked her emerald hues aflame with wonder.

She listened to Serg's deep words. both meaningful and toxic. Gryffin stayed, her black lips twitched but still she stood with that empty facade, without brimming fear nor the foolish vargs that intend to show dominant to those clearly superior. But Gryffin had respected the balkar. Well, she respected the First and the Second and those she thought worthy of being a balkar. Of course one should be worthy is he reaches such a rank?

Gryffin then finally broke the ice that had encased her and her voice flowed out, a femme's voice escaped her maw, something that had rarely melted into the winds of the balkar lands. "Now balkar, you don't think I am foolish enough to wander into territories without a reason now?" Gryffin asked. "I could say like those many other vargs, that I am just a merely lost puppy, searching for my home but have accidentally purged into your humble territories but i am not, so then again spare not my life if you wish o' dragga." Gryffin then cocked a brow. Was she wasting her time here with some balkar? "Now tell me you are the Serg? The First of the putnar are you not?" Gryffin asked her voice steady though the motives of the black giant was unpredictable. She watched the regal wolf with a hint of admiration.

Gryffin then sighed, "But now dragga I will answer your question, hence you declare my words as a version of stalling my fate. Why you would spare me I do not know. For true i have walked into your homeland with a mere wave of guest. But I am here to pay a greeting and perhaps finally meet the highly spoken of, First." Gryffin said firmly. "It has been awhile since I have been in these lands, and I must say it is a pleasure to be back here, for a visit none the less"
Gryffin then nodded, "Oh you must still be wondering what she wolf am I?" Gryffin said with a tilt of her head, "Well then I be Gryffin." she said curtly, if the male wanted to know more of whom she was then he would fore handedly ask.

[Serg]

Serg's growling lessened somewhat as her head dipped in respect and he took a step closer to her, subtly scenting her scent. she smelt of List, which was a good thing at least. he had promised his former leader, Leohlic, that he would not go to war with List, he would not make enemies with the pack. and he licked his coal-stained maw slowly. however, he had never stepped foot inside the pack, nor talked much with their leaders, for runnign two packs left little time for much else. he was not entirely sure of List's alligiance with his packs, or any other pack for that matter. rumour had it they were becoming a pack of neutrality, but had they forgotten that their roots lie with the small red Dragga whose title had not only been Dragga of List, but also, Second of the Balkar? and then later, First. Serg had not known that he would also follow somewhat in Leoh's pawprints, in the case of running two packs at least.

'you would not be the first to wander into my lands with the reason just to look around and be nosy. i do not tolerate trespassers lightly.' he growled, he despised nosy vargs, wandering into his lands, trying to pry into business that was not their own. they paid no heed to his borders, and if Tratto's Blessing was called, and they were not looking to join, then they were naturally, denied entry. the Balkar territories were for Balkar only. only a few exceptions had been made otherwise. the black Dragga then raised his head at the title she asked him if he professed to own. and the word 'the' before his name he found somewhat amusing. a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth he nodded slowly. 'yes, i am he.'

as soon as Serg heard the name the familiarity he had sensed from this faemme suddenly fell into place, somewhere in his muscular bulk, some tension relaxed and his snarl disappated into his normal expression, which did not mean that it was still all friendly. a courteous smile tugged at one corner of his maw and he dipped his head in welcome. 'now i know why i thought i knew you, daughter of the Balkar.'

his blazing amber orbs focused closely on her and his sharp white teeth flashed as he chuckled, not the sound of a varg finding pure, unadultered amusement in something, but one finding his own little pleasure in a simple thing that was not necessarily funny to all else. 'if i recall rightly, we were never properly introduced, although i heard about you slipping into these lands without escort and invitation more than once.' Serg tilted his head to the side. he was older than Gryffin, but he had still been a young recruit when he had seen the faemme when she was a pup. and she had grown much since then. he was not surprised that he had not recognised her.