Ψ · I've waited all this week

@Almight

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 She was drawn to the red-flowered woodlands once more, her paws tracing those paths that were slowly growing more and more familiar. A soft inhale brought the sweet odors of the land and she made her way through the underbrush, moss soft against her pads. In the distance ahead of her, she could hear a babbling brook, its smooth water slowly, slowly chipping away at the earth beneath it.

 Given time, given years, the paths the water took would change.

 They would widen or narrow, digging deeper and deeper through the stone as erosion took the land. Soil, rock, and plant matter would get carried along downstream to where it would catch up with stronger currents, depositing into the true river. Eventually, that soil would make its way into the ocean, sent along in the smallest of pieces to sink down, carried further even as the ocean currents took it out to sea. Pebbles would eventually become ever so many grains of sand, smoothed by the endless passage of time.

 There was nothing stronger than water.

 If you waited.

 The stream was before her now and she slipped down its bank, picking her steps carefully. Her head lowered to lap at the water briefly before lifting again, eyes tracing the reds from the branches, reaching down towards her from heights above. The soldier's eyes trailed down from there, focusing on a shape in the distance, beyond the border that she found herself on.

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Though the man traveled a whole lot, he wasn't the best navigator - especially not in daylight. He knew the stars well enough to use them as his guide, but the whole moving sun thing was just not his style. It was because of this he'd gone all the way towards Elkshire (as he now knew it to be called) and only realized this upon spotting the wonderful wisteria trees in the distance. He found it odd how their queen had successfully claimed both this woodland and whatever lay beyond, but he guessed with enough subjects to defend one could claim any land they wanted. Was Vengeance taking notes? God, he couldn't wait to move out of the Reach if he was.

He was about to turn away to go back the way he'd come, but it was then the sun came to peek from behind the clouds and he saw something shimmer in the distance. He didn't know what it was, only that it lit up like water or lightning as soon as it had caught the light. When the clouds' shadows crawled over the clearing between the woodlands once again, he could see more clearly; whatever had shone so brightly was attached to a burly... man? Whoever it was, they were downwind from him.

He strolled to the water's edge then, acting like he wanted to get a drink when in reality he just wanted a closer look at whatever had intrigued him in the first place.

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 The shape solidified into the form of a wolf and, as she watched, it approached.

 It was an entirely unfamiliar wolf of pitch and ash. He had a face blackened as if by fire with eyes as void of colour as the rest of him, though they gleamed in high contrast against goggles of that same black. A ruff of iron curled about his neck, clasping about a throat as dark as night. He looked vaguely familiar, but she could not place it. Had she known, of course, that he was the very brother of a wolf who had unnerved her so much not that long ago, she might have been more inclined to leave into the woods.

 But the woman remained, salmon gaze following the stranger.

 Had she known his thoughts of her form, of her sex, she would not have cared. Femininity had never been of importance to the beast. There had been a time in her youth that she had longed for the attentions of someone who would have cared for the fairer few, but time had taken that away and so her focus had gone to work.

 A single ear, long and tapered, twitched as the stranger came to the water as if to drink. He was beyond the border but how close did one have to be in these strange lands to be considered trespassing? She was not quite over the fact that her new pack seemed to believe their land as far as they could see, as far as the elk roamed. That was impossible, in her mind. Packs could grow and expand, yes, but they had to be careful in how much they claimed before they drew the ire of their neighbors.

 Despite her visage, her voice was plainly female, though roughened by circumstance. He would need to get no closer to recognize that much. “Ho, stranger,” she called across the water by way of greeting, leaning to the side to scratch her neck passively against a nearby branch. It was a subtle move, one that stated her identity as one of Elkshire without posing something that might be seen as a direct challenge. “What brings you here?”

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As the figure spoke, it seemed he'd been mistaken; the form before him, though from a distance easily mistaken as androgynous at best, was apparently female. Dressed in earthen hues, snowy white and void filling all that remained. He had to blink when he saw her tail - or should he say tails? It appeared there were two. He didn't think it possible, but some always proved him wrong. What had caught his eye appeared to be a golden colored something dangling from her nose like a very shiny booger. What function did it have? Was it stuck there? Did it hurt?

“Very poor navigational skills.” He answered her question with a swagger in his movements. “I've been here before - you're from Elkshire, am I right?” He recalled their queen telling him her pack's name quite clearly. It could very well be that the strange wolf hailed from somewhere else, but the way she'd rubbed herself over the same branches that belonged to the queendom had convinced him of the fact the two females were linked to the same organization.

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 He, this total stranger, stared at her - and she returned the stare impassively, waiting for him to make some sort of strange comment. She was used to it, comments on her decorations or even her oddities of her own form. Despite being a perfectly normal wolf personality-wise, she was cursed with having a mismatch of traits and decor that caused many a wolf to pause. At least, she figured, she wasn't as odd as her own mother. Despite most of her memory being foggy, through a shattered mirror, she could remember that her mother was odd.

 And dead.

 Though, weren't they all?

 Nevertheless, the man seemed to decide to completely ignore her oddities and simply answer her question, adding one of his own. She gave a soft chuckle at his initial joke. “Easy to get lost in this place,” She'd managed to find these very woods and go traipsing around too far in to realize it when she'd run across the queen of the pack. Thankfully, she was a forgiving type, at least to those who seemed to have worth.

 Plus, the flowering trees had hardly any scent to them when she got here beyond their own. She had been quite captivated by them when she had run into Celnes the first time.

 “Yes, I'm Meissa, a Bearbuck,” without reason to conceal her identity, she would not. After all, she hid from no one out here, except perhaps that freaky white-furred man. She inhaled, catching the slightest whiff of his scent. It wasn't nearly as sour as the scent that had been on her queen, but it had notes of familiarity. “You're...not.” It was phrased as a bit of a statement though the tilt of her head made it clear she was curious about his identity and it was her way of asking.

 She hadn't met any of the other packs in the area so she had little besides what had been told to her and what she had gleaned from the attitudes of her fellows.

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Though the man was usually quick to judge, he did so quietly unless in a bold mood. He didn't know what kind of strange creature he'd encountered, plus he was in Elkshire territory - it would be unwise to pick on her, even when it really was just curiosity. He nodded at her statement, leaving it at that. At least she was more understanding than the actual queen, who'd acted rather cold at their meeting.

“Bearbuck? That's what you guys call yourselves?” He asked with a slight snicker. He then shook his head at her observation. Unfortunately he wasn't a "bearbuck". The queen might be cold, but at least he could tell she had a heart. He wasn't so sure about his father. “You're right - I'm a Nightwalker. Almight Rache, to be more precise.” He informed, pride sneaking its way into his voice. Despite having been forced to join them, the man still took pride in being himself - of being part of an organization.

“Seems like we're allies.” He added with a smirk then.

 

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 The queen's distrust of the man was different in origin and intensity from Meissa's distrust, for her own was plainly due to the fact that he was a man who was clearly tall and powerful. She had none of the prejudices of his pack affiliation nor of his colour, for frankly the colour of one's pelt mattered little to nothing to Meissa. Other than... for some reason, pure white wolves seemed to freak her out a bit without her knowing why exactly.

 She grinned at his question. “I had no say in the name,” she said with a shrug. Honestly, it made little sense to her besides shoving a strong bear in with one of the pack's beloved bucks. She wasn't sure what she thought about the strange affinity to deer but if it didn't harm anyone, why not.

 He introduced himself and she smirked, “Short for "Almighty"?” Not that much shorter, but it was an odd name if she'd heard of any. His last name meant nothing to her simply due to the fact that she'd never heard the name before - Whenever Vengeance was mentioned it was never his full name and she still knew very little about the affiliation besides allies, which the man now pointed out. “Seems like it. Do you often patrol your allies' borders?” Her face was wrapped in a wry smile but there was something deeper in her question. Checking for weak spots where he could pop in if things ever turned south?

 Alliances always seemed to turn south. Either they ignored when your pack was falling apart or they took it as a chance to dive in and feast on the spoils of another wolf's war. But hey, if they were allies now they might as well act like it.

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At least Meissa took no offense to him making a bit of fun of their name. It was just kind of odd to him, seeing as bears ate bucks whenever given the chance. To add them together was like putting pasta sauce on waffles, a food combo that made the all-knowing writer of Almight feel a bit sick only thinking about it.

He gave a short, shy chuckle. “That obvious, huh?” Still, it wasn't as on the nose as "Vengeance", he thought. He'd named himself at a young age when he still had delusions of grandeur - not that he had completely outgrown it. Maybe he would never, not completely.

“Can't say that I do.” He answered truthfully. “As I said, coming here was an accident.” The man usually had no motive, especially while traveling. He just liked the views, meeting new faces when they weren't immediately hostile towards him and getting out of the horrible woods they inhabited. Today was no different.

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 If she'd had someone to chat with before who wouldn't have been offended about it, she likely would have joked about it before. Honestly, it was a weird title but she supposed if they wanted to make deer seem big and powerful, they'd have to toss some weird terms around. She still didn't get the worship most of the pack had for deer but she figured eh, if it wasn't doing anyone any harm, she could just eat rabbits and boars and god she missed eating deer.

 She grinned, offering a shrug.

 “I did the same thing when I first got here,” she admitted, indicating towards the inside of the territory. “Didn't smell a lick of the pack til the Queen showed up and said it was hers.” So, she'd spent a good deal of the time trying to fix the issue of not being able to smell where the borders were. Well, with what Flynn and Celnes had said that day she'd first met the scout, it was all pretty much... theirs. Where the elk traveled or something.

 I mean, bullshit but nice try!

 If they could spread their scent here and claim the land, then sure... but there weren't a lot of them yet and it felt bizarre to have so much land, endless land or whatever, without actually having the wolves to protect it. There were two Bearbucks - herself and Remus - and a scout, and a bunch of no-rank strangers she'd yet to meet. Not enough. “How long since you popped into existence or however you showed up?” She figured it was normal to have suddenly arrived, though she wouldn't want to relive her waking ever.

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Almight shared Meissa's unspoken opinion of how the Deer Queen went about her way of claiming land. When packs were still small, especially in such a new realm, it was better to keep your claim small and not spread your forces too thin. If he, a pretty decent hunter, could not tell the difference between vaguely walked on borders and just free land then perhaps it wasn't time yet to claim the forest. They could be protective of it, sure - the Nightwalkers were protective over their hunting grounds as well, but to say they owned it? No, he wouldn't go that far. He'd never outright attack a stranger on their hunting grounds, only once they crossed their true borders were they to be hunted like critters.

“Is there any reason to claim this forest as Bearbuck territory? I mean, isn't the part the queen owns already satisfactory, for now?” He asked with a careful lowering of his large ears as a sign he truly did not mean any disrespect; he was just curious.

“Four moons. I washed up on shore up North.” He answered. “You?”

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 Of course, Meissa would never dare voice these thoughts among her own pack. She didn't know anyone well enough to criticize it and she didn't exactly want to get tossed out for not sucking up to the leaders all the time. Sure, this guy seemed nice enough from the two point five seconds of talking to him, but having one face outside the pack that didn't want to be creepy and getting up in her space wasn't enough to feel safe leaving the confines of a pack.

 Meissa had never been without a pack for very long and the idea was terrifying.

 So, she would be the good little war hound. She'd bare the insults, the mockery, because she knew that they'd come anywhere. It didn't matter, as long as she had a safe spot to curl up in and a place where she felt like she was doing maybe a little bit of good, or "good" as it were - since the pack had some weird beliefs she wasn't too fond of.

 His question was hard and she wasn't sure what to answer. “Orders, making sure nobody's bumming it so close they could kidnap or murder someone, that sort of thinge,” she said this with a slight shrug, though she glanced bac as if checking to see if anyone was out there, listening. What she said next was quiet, an admission, “I don't exactly fit the bill of an Elkshire wolf, so I gotta do what I'm told.”

 Though, if she was told to kill a kid she'd have a problem.

 When he said he'd washed up she gave a little laugh, “I got here... almost three moons ago. Woke up underwater in the sea, so guess I washed ashore too.” Maybe they were more alike than she thought. Well, kind of. She was still a freak and he was still a normal looking wolf, handsome even.

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While Meissa was afraid to be without a pack, being a part of the Nightwalkers was one of Almight's nightmares turned real. Still, the only insults they could throw at him were that he was a kid - youthful as he was, though his size made him look older. He couldn't imagine being burdened by golden boogers and double tails, but oddities rarely made the man think less of someone - unless the oddities were mental. Though some part cared for Grumble the way one would care for a child, he couldn't deny that her behavior made him think she was less capable than the average wolf.

“It'd be wiser to stick to a smaller territory if one would want to avoid intruders and thieves - it would assure a member at every turn. Spreading your forces thin is about the worst way to handle the problem you say the Bearbucks wish to avoid, in my humble opinion.” But there was little use in telling a mere soldier this. Still, he dared not bring it up to the queen. From her conversation with her, he could tell she did not think much of him - and honestly, who could blame her?

However, Meissa's next words made the stormcloak's nostrils widen in disgruntlement. “And why is that?” He asked, cutting in very shortly after with: “Your... uniqueness? Oh please - you look strong, capable. If they cannot see your worth here, they are blind. What more could they want but a devoted, determined warrior?” He told himself as much as her, for he too wished to be seen. Wished to be regarded with respect the way his father was.

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 “Very true,” she agreed with a nod, though she knew as well as any how well that sort of suggestion would go over. Not well, though definitely better than if the man before her suggested it. To retract from these lands after already showing claim over it would be to show weakness and they would no doubt find wolves trying to encroach ever further into their land. In a way, she understood the desire to have a buffer around the true pack lands, however foolish it was. “In my homeland, we would only claim what we knew we could protect.”

 Here, that didn't seem to be the case.

 His reaction to her admittance of not being the most esteemed surprised her, frankly. Had he not heard of the peculiarities she'd learned with time, being in this pack? Were they not meant to be allies? Surely allies would know, for it was no secret. She felt mildly flattered and gave a soft chuckle. “Elkshire's ruling family has a peculiar love for browns - and only browns. Blacks and grays are distrusted and white is especially loathed,” she said, shifting slightly to further reveal the cloak of white upon her back. There was a strange shiver of irony with her wordage, she realized, though she wasn't sure how. “The Queen appears to see my worth but it is an uphill climb to overcome my apparent flaws.” She said the last word with distaste, discreetly rolling her eyes.

 Religion, in her experience, was not often logical. Especially when it came to something as unchangeable as fur colour.

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“Very wise.” He responded, his voice a low timbre. For a moment he wondered where a wolf with two tails and golden boogers would come from, but he thought he could guess the answer. She came from some other realm, woke up here, details were fuzzy blablabla. He almost didn't want to ask about the past anymore with anyone.

He wasn't trying to woe her, though realized too late that he might've came across a little too flattering. Oh well, he'd meant what he'd said so he wasn't going to apologize for it. With raised brows did he take a look at his chest as she told of the peculiar way of judgement Elkshire was apparently known for. The details hadn't been mentioned before to him. “No wonder the queen was not very fond of me.” He commented with a chuckle. “But still, it sounds very odd. It's not something you can change, now can you?” Judging someone on brawn and brain he could understand; but fur color? He wasn't here to judge, honestly, but it wasn't something he'd ever heard of before.

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 Perhaps one day the wolves of this realm would learn the extent which their powers would hold. It would require push back, of course. Other packs moving in, trying to claim space that they already held. Fighting. War. She considered these things a lot, having been trained for them as well as in diplomacy. In her homeland, it seemed a much greater distance between packs than here. Packs could spread if they wished, but often they claimed their lot and remained, not bothering to grab for more and more and more.

 It was more peaceful that way, in a way.

 There was enough land to go around so one did not hoard it.

 It was good that the man's compliments were not from a point of interest, though the idea hadn't even crossed her mind. She was used to being even after the last pick, so the man had no reason to worry that her interest was piqued. Besides, he was of another pack, a pack all she knew about was violence. If she knew the truths of what happened there, she would despise them and likely would grow to despise her own queen, if the knowledge did not spark disgust in her. She was already on thin ice with the coat colour hatred thing, if she lay dormant in the face of other abuses, Meissa would have no choice.

 If she knew what this man before her was capable of...

 Unknowing of the extend of the monstrosities within the Nightwalkers, she continued pleasantly enough. “Not at all, though I worry they may wish to remove what they can of it,” she said with a chuckle, glancing back to her split tails. One held the browns of her father, the other was pure white, the joining point along them a rough mix of the two. The tails were the result of a murder, in a way. An absorption of a twin in utero, not big enough for two, evidently.

 A thought crossed her mind and she hoped the Nightwalker would not ask: Why did she remain? The answer lay in one word, a word she hadn't dared admit to herself yet. “What is your pack like? You're the first Nightwalker I've met in person and all I've heard were scattered rumors.”

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Only Almight himself wasn't violent. The man could throw a punch when needed, sure, but he'd never actively pick a fight with someone without good reason. He was perhaps the most normal guy the Nightwalkers had in their ranks, mostly because he hadn't joined them by choice. It would all chance someday, the Gods had planned, but for now he'd take a peaceful approach to his fellow canines.

“Surely not?” He asked, worried for her now. He wasn't sure whether she'd meant it as a joke or not. Either way it was a fucked up thing to even think about.

“Hmm - what kind of rumors?” He asked with a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

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 A tall, heavy man was always a potential danger.

 Eventually, maybe she would settle that nervousness within her that she masked with watchful curiosity and care. Nevertheless, this man seemed concerned with the premise of removing her tail and she shrugged. “They haven't said but I wouldn't put it past them. Wolves with such intense prejudices can do... unspeakable things.” She shook her head, reminding herself that she was one of them for safety and because they were the first wolves to show her kindness, despite their dislike of her coat.

 She was only half-cursed, she supposed. She could deal with some brown nosing and keeping her head down.

 He called her on her bluff and she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice, “Well, for starters, is it true you eat deer?” she gasped, as if a lady about to faint, “Scandalous! Heresy!” A moment later, she grinned and shook her head, indicating towards the forest behind her with a playful wink, “Another weird thing about Elkshire, killing or eating deer and elk is illegal.” Maybe he wouldn't press or would realize she was jokingly avoiding giving any real rumors - since truly, it was a bluff.

 She knew little to nothing about the pack except for its lack of hygiene, something she didn't exactly want to point out.

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His expression was no short of the equivalent of "WTF" when she stated she would not put her own pack above the mutilation of their members over the color of their coat. It spoke volumes about Elkshire, but also of the woman. One would have to be truly desperate, truly in need, to keep themselves in such circumstances. He'd almost propose she come with him, but the Nightwalkers were probably no better... or even worse in some cases.

“I hate to agree.” Was his simple response, unable to do much for her. He wouldn't know how to help, if he even could - and if she'd even let him.

When she leaned in, so did he, assuming whatever she would tell him would be complete slander. But no, she was taking the piss, and he was kind of enjoying it! He laughed, a rumbling sound deep from his throat. “I mean, you eat what you must to stay alive, I hope. If winter came and all food that was left was elk and deer, would you all just starve?” God, he sure hoped they weren't THAT stupid.

“But the Nightwalkers have little to no religion or strange rules like Elkshire. We're a group of soldiers - mercenaries. We act as a family, because most of us probably never had a proper one...” He added, his smile fading at how the description fit him just as much. “You're lucky Elkshire is not an enemy of ours, is what I'm saying, because we're far from what one would consider a peaceful group.”

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 She saw the look upon his face and internally sighed, agreeing with his undisguised horror. It was true that she was desperate, that she had fled in a world of panic and fright. There had been others she had met prior to the queen of Elkshire, the first a scattering of men who were as confused as she, the second a pair of women whose company she despised and one of which held some internal fury that Meissa could not contain, the third a white man whose interest in her had been terrifyingly intense. She was certain she could have taken him in a fight, but in her state of mind, her only option of survival was to flee.

 How ironic that the white man was this wolf's brother - if she knew, how would she react? How would he, knowing she had painted the man as a deviant, one for her pack to be alert for?

 The mood lightened with their banter and she grinned, quite enjoying it. At the question of winter starvation, she glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, “Well, I wouldn't.” Nor would her few friends, if she could disguise prey well enough. “Though I assume the law would be dropped. From what I understand, it was a fairly recent addition to the laws - it used to be that only deer with antlers were to be avoided, for whatever reason.” How would decimating the doe population but letting bucks run amok be helpful? Hopefully Celnes would have enough sense to look for her pack first instead of the High Elk and his ilk.

 Then a shrug, more heresy. “Though, who knows. The devout often act senselessly when believing their gods claim it, from past experience.”

 She settled back, listening to his description of the pack.

 It sounded about what she had expected, honestly, with the stink of testosterone she'd smelled while passing it. Once upon a time, perhaps she would have been interested in joining, from the description alone. There was a certain softness she required in a pack, though. An ability to have space to be vulnerable if need be. Her relationship with Remus, her fellow Bearbuck, was one of soldiers and despite them having a mutual respect for one another, she doubted she would ever be able to speak to him from the heart. To be in a pack where that was all there was? She would be emotionally starved.

 She wondered if he was, from the way his face fell.

 “It sounds like the queen's decision to ally with the Nightwalkers was a sound one, then,” she mused with a nod. “I wonder if she will hire you as mercenaries one day to hunt down her enemies.” Enemies that Meissa did not know of, if there were any besides those of the oh so accursed pelts. Perhaps she would trundle on north where there were sure to be packs full of arctic wolves all happy in their snowy white pelts.

 Nevertheless, she was grateful for Celnes's kindness, even if she thought her beliefs to be barbaric.

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His relationship with his brother was perhaps even stranger than the one with his father. Though he'd killed their mother and had left them both stranded in the wilderness, Almight strangely looked up to Abaddon. He was a wildcard, a jester in a way, but his ways only came about because of the curse he believed their bloodline carried. Though they'd been born together, his white counterpart had always felt years older than him - regal, cunning, a tad nuts. Almight could never become him, he knew, but he'd learned much from him. They didn't agree on most things, but that didn't stop the two brothers from appreciating each other in a way an elephant appreciated the mud on his back.

He snickered. “And feminism marches on.” He commented when Meissa revealed that it was only the females who were to be killed not too long ago. How odd. He could only imagine how sexually frustrated the males had to have become should this trend have continued - maybe they'd have to resort to using each other for comfort instead. the water was making all the elk gay.

Almight, though he wouldn't admit it, was affection starved. The Nightwalkers weren't the family they claimed to be. There was no talking, only sparring - and if he got to talk to someone, he'd get spat on for being a young rat within their ranks. He'd never treat family that way - which was why he would be there for whoever needed him, should they ever approach him with an emotional issue. Perhaps their captives would appreciate talking to someone that wasn't going to torture them - hell, perhaps he'd even win them over, create a secret little army to overthrow the current Warlord. No, no - he couldn't! Answering violence with more violence, it just didn't feel right, but what more was he to do?

“Indeed - with Vengeance and the queen both wanting to claim the Temperate as a whole, a war could not have been avoided should they not have made this alliance.” He deduced. “And, I don't know about you, but I'd rather not serve a war for someone who didn't treat me right.” He added with a small wink, talking as much about her situation as about his own. “I wouldn't be surprised if she did - we are skilled at what we do.”

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 She let out a huff of laughter at that - the law had been before her time in the pack so she had no clue as to the reasons. Probably the "High Elk" just wanting to make sure they didn't accidentally eat him or something. Now, with both females and males outlawed for hunting... the population was going to explode. She could see it now - deer eating away all the bark on trees, causing them to die. Eating all the grass and leaving mud in their wake.

 Without predation, they would overrun the place.

 The question was not if, but when.

 She was curious on the intricacies of the Nightwalkers. She knew very little about them, even with what Almight had said. Mercenaries, soldiers, a "family," all pretty enough words for a place. Were they loyal? Honest? Moral? Was there a sudden but inevitable betrayal to be cursed? She licked her lips thoughtfully, listening as he spoke of war. He spoke of both Vengeance and the Queen wishing to claim the Temperate as a whole and she considered it. So, they had two ambitious powerhouses? Would an alliance stand the test of time, the test of two wolves who wanted the world at their paws?

 Her lips tweaked into a smile at the statement that accompanied the wink. “Quite right.” Oh dear, she was starting to sound like Flynn.

 “Well, I've aired some of my pack's dirty laundry... got any spicy stuff on your side? Besides Temperate domination, I suppose,” her tongue poked out slightly with her grin, this time.

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No, Almight did not think their alliance could last once the two packs would claim more land. Both sides were very clear in what they wanted; domination. Even the children between their leaders could not save it, he supposed. Vengeance trusted no one, and no one should trust Vengeance - which was why any alliance made was temporary in his eyes. A means to an end, which was the Nightwalkers claiming the Temperate as a whole. Of course, the Rat would never speak of such things with an outsider, let alone someone from that very alliance.

“Hmm - not much. They tell me little. Even with being Vengeance's son, I'm just a Rat.” He said, neither lying nor telling the truth. It was true that there was still little dirt to be shared about the Nightwalkers, for now. Sure, they had some captives now and again, but ehh, who didn't? They may or may not take members by force, himself included - but really, how bad could that be when he was having fun sometimes?

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 Ambition.

 It was fickle. Dangerous. A wolf with too much ambition could overstep, go too far beyond their means. A pack with too much ambition could destroy itself by believing it much stronger than it was. Was this Elkshire or Nightwalkers she thought of? It was uncertain and neither here nor there - the packs would learn whether they could claim more land than they truly owned. Whether or not other packs in the area let them, well, they would surely learn in time.

 “Oh, his son?” she said, brows raising with curiosity. “I guess you'll be half-siblings with the royal litter then?” Despite not knowing it, she'd had half siblings before. None of which she'd ever met, of course, nor did any walk this realm, but her mother had not been afraid to spread her bloodline about, long after Meissa had been told of her untimely demise.

 She, too, knew what it was like being an outsider. “That's too bad, though. I'm not usually a gossip, but when the moment's right,” she offered a shrug. They'd had some fun rapport but she didn't want to stretch too far outside of bounds. What she'd said already was probably akin to treason or at the very least, heresy. Not that she cared about the religion of her new home.

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But the Rache family rarely left anything to chance. He trusted Vengeance in his ability to know how far he could go - he wasn't sure about the Elk Queen though. She was already claiming more than what their forces could handle, that much was obvious, plus her reasoning for doing it was based on religion. The Nightwalkers' only religion was violence, so it seemed, and it was rarely a motivator to claim beyond their capacity. Let's just say Almight wouldn't be surprised if Elkshire would quickly lose its members with all their strange rules unless born and bred within their lands. Not to mention how they discriminated against a large majority of wolves, which wasn't the greatest ad ever stapled to a tree.

“He dislikes talking about... past mistakes.” Almight informed through slightly gritted teeth, his smile the only thing keeping it rather lighthearted. “And yes - I plan on seeing them that way.” Not that he had the best experience with siblings, but still. They were as much Rache as they were Elkshire folk, which meant they were safe from his wrath should Vengeance ever decide he didn't need their queen anymore. Of course, he couldn't speak for his... colleagues.

“You find what you told me gossip?” He asked a bit bemused. “Were I an enemy, you've told me quite a few valuable details.” He teased with a smirk. Yes, he did just love hearing things he could use, even if he'd never plan on doing it deliberately. He was more a man that used his arsenal in the heat of the moment.

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 She frowned, looking at the man not with pity but understanding. She understood. Knew what it meant to be a mistake, a left-over. Regarded as little more than another body to have to feed. It was why she fought so hard, worked so hard so that she did not become a burden upon those whose kindness kept her alive. Kindness, ha. She gave a nod, “I'm sure they'll enjoy having an older brother, despite -” she gave a little sidewards nod, referring to what he had said but without putting her own words into it.

 She did not know the specifics and did not want to give accidental insult.

 When he said what she had said was useful, she grinned. “Why, I've said no more than what the Queen herself offers to our visitors! Good sir, I am only the most devout, simply sharing the faith.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “With additional commentary for entertainment.”

 She was walking a dangerous line but she was having fun.

 It felt freeing to be able to speak like this with someone who believed the same. Seeing as they weren't the beloved colours, she doubted he would go running to the queen to tell all that she had said. Vengeance, on the other hand. She considered what Almight might tell his father, what Vengeance might tell the queen. Ah, but what she said was true, to a point. The words of the pack's religion were given freely to passerbys, the laws of no deer consumption also - for what use was protecting a herd if you did not tell anyone who came near of your protection over them?

 Her own feelings on the matter were the most treasonous of all she had said.

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