Ψ · Tell me that you'll be alright

 It felt both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying to be free of the Temperate, of the wolves who were likely now aware of her absence, of the absences of not just two but five of their numbers.

 She felt bad about it - a complex emotion of regret and anger, of joy and fear. There were wolves there she had wanted to apologize to but hadn't the time. Ones she... She regretted leaving them. Remus, especially, had grown to be like a brother in arms to both Flynn and herself, she was sure. He had been her fellow Bearbuck when she had joined and while at first he had seemed to despise her, they had grown as close as two comrades could be. They were both battle hardened and exhausted, pushing through everything to better themselves.

 Then there was Celnes herself.

 She felt especially badly about leaving her without her guard with eight tiny pups suckling. A voice in her head told her that there was still time, she could still go back. They did not have to flee without warning, without telling her. She probably would have allowed them to go if they just asked - but what if she hadn't? What if she ordered Remus to hold her down while they chased Flynn away? What if they killed him? She had already been petty, demoting not just Flynn but herself and Remus from their stations of Royal Guard. Remus, who had done nothing wrong!

 He didn't even know.

 She sighed and moved on, pushing ahead for a short time to have a breath, leaving Archon to walk with Flynn. The scents of @Tavra and @Rosemary were growing stronger and she could almost taste them now, as she came over a slope and nearly lost herself over the lip of a sinkhole.

 She looked into the sinkhole, nostrils blazing as the woman's claws dug into the dirt-rock combination. Their scents were here but she couldn't see them - had they fallen in? Crouching, she inched closer to look over the edge without losing her balance and falling within. No, their bodies were not broken and torn at the base, there was no blood. She rose to her full height, stepping back and shaking her coat out before following the ridge the scent continued along on.

 Meissa slowed as the hill began to roll downwards, rocky cliffside no longer a danger at her flank. There were glorious flowers here, spreading down into mossy rock. That was not the most incredible thing here, however. The rock walls turned into a floor, a bridge - not one but two that spread out like levels of a wasp nest. At the very back of the floors were great loops of stone - holes! Within those holes, she realized was running water - a waterfall?

 Was this the place Flynn had mentioned? Did he know about this?

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While the others might be plagued by apprehension, Tavra was enjoying the feeling of liberation. She lounged within the sinkhole, her back pressed firm to the smooth rock face where the waterfall had eroded in the past. The sound of churning water in the nearby pool brought her some comfort, and she was tempted to submit to her desire to nap the afternoon away.

Movement from above made some tiny stone fragments and dirt break away from the mouth of the void, and they scattered on the ground several feet before her nose. She rose her head to investigate, squinting against the light, and pricked her large ears forward. There were no voices that she could hear, so she wondered if Rosemary might've gone off to explore on his own.

She pulled herself upright, yawning widely, and by the time she strode into the open the brute who'd disturbed the ceiling had begun their descent. Tavra flagged her tail at once in warning to the stalker, though her posture relaxed a little on recognising that hideous snout; she had not forgot that Meissa had called her a hoe.

“Oh, it's you,” the russet yearling said, hardly enthusiastic despite being glad that her comrades had at last caught up to her, “finally decide to join us?” She smirked, her words more teasing than accusing. “Where's Flynn? Did Her Majesty lock him in the dungeon?”

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 Movement caught Meissa's attention and she snapped her eyes towards it - meeting the languid Tavra. “Ah!” she said, with a grin and a flag of her own tail. “Ho, Tavra!” She gave a quick sniff of the air and confirmed Rosemary's scent was here too. “Glad to smell Rosemary caught up with you.” She was still oblivious to the fact that Tavra thought she had insulted her with her regular greeting. If she knew, she would have tried to explain in some way or the other.

 The woman just thought pissed off was Tavra's default state.

 Which, granted, it probably was.

 She peered up the walls around them, nodding approvingly. “This place is amazing - Flynn and Archon are just behind me, probably checking out the place from above.” She gave a nod to the edge she'd found first - were their tiny shapes up there? “We got out without her even noticing.” A laugh escaped her lips and she shook her head. “I'm glad to be out of there, that's for sure.” It was okay while it lasted but the whole Vengeance-calling-her-ugly-for-Elkshire thing had been a bit annoying as fuck.

 Her eyes traced the route of the waterfall, excitement tingling within her bones. “Thank you for going ahead, by the way.” Her eyes latched onto the foxlike wolf again, a genuine smile on her face. A lot had happened since their first meeting, even though it hadn't been all that long ago. With Flynn not currently here, her jealousy was abated and she felt more comfortable to converse.

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Pissed off was, absolutely, Katavra Mayfair's natural state. Back home beneath her parents' rule she'd been a pompous creature, fueled by vanity - after acknowledging her mother's narcissism and long months on the road by herself, she'd hardened considerably. From her departure from her birthplace she'd been forced to grow up suddenly, all at once, and resting bitch face competed with arrogance as time went on.

Once a princess with light in her eyes, replaced now by dragonfire.

“Rosemary came as a surprise,” she commented at the mention of her sightless shadow, choosing choosing to ignore that Meissa had called her a fucking hoe - again! Tavra didn't wish any harm to come to the fellow who'd followed her from Elkshire, and found that she rather enjoyed his sharp tongue in response to her own, but she wasn't about to admit that.

She included Flynn's whereabouts, mentioning that he was with another - Archon. The boy Meissa had mentioned when last they'd spoke, she assumed, but said nothing; Tavra was not at all interested in the child. He was likely to be nothing more than another mouth to feed, another burden.

Better news came, and Tavra lifted her chin triumphantly to learn that none of her companions had faced the Queen's scorn. As much as she loved a good argument, it would be foolish to spit venom in Célnes' face before disappearing, considering the mindless backing of her brainwashed followers. “Good,” the wildfire said, pleased, “it was about time you got your noses out from under her tail.”

A ginger-tipped ear splayed backward, caught off guard by the brutish wolfess'... appreciation? Of her? Tavra twitched her nose, made a face of confusion, and wondered why. She had went on ahead for no one but herself, having needed to taste freedom from a place shattered by oppression. “Thank me?” Tavra questioned, “Why?”


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 She gave a nod and a little laugh. “Once I told him about everything, he offered to catch up with you and join up with us.” Well, she figured anyway. Maybe he'd stick around, maybe he'd go off to find his own pack, but honestly she sort of expected him to stay. Tavra, on the other hand, had a considerable amount of freedom to do what she wanted.

 It was kind of nice that what she wanted was to help them out.

 She admired the girl's fervor, even if sometimes she felt a little like it was aimed at her. “No doubt she'll be out for our blood after this... hopefully we're not about to have both Elkshire and the Nightwalkers down our necks.” She shuddered, remembering the savage look in Vengeance's eye when she'd met him - remembered pulling Flynn away with Remus while still stinging with the insult. Oh well, really. Sure, she was ugly.

 Ugliness didn't matter, her teeth mattered.

 “Well, you could have gone off on your own and told us to fuck off,” she explained with a shrug, lifting a paw to knock a small rock, watching it tumble down the mossy earth, disappearing into the lush grasses and flowers. Man, this place was awesome. She had no clue what it might be called - would they name it? “You didn't and I appreciate that.”

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Double tagging to pick later

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Célnes, out for blood? Tavra hadn't known the Queen long enough to know, truly, wether she would or not. She was sure to be bitter, of course, as the young Mayfair considered their last discussion: those who were white of fur were the ones who'd betray her. A wiser wolf would've kept her mouth shut, kept her soldiers sweet with lies of their worth, so in some small way she appreciated the honesty with which she'd spoke.

It'd been another lesson in life, Tavra decided. She'd thought she'd been picky in choosing Elkshire, brave in asking questions some might deem dangerous and smart with the way she'd surpassed more long-standing pack-mates in rank. Meissa had been right in saying that this was not because she was valued - it was because she'd been useful.

“Pffff,” the yearling lashed her feathered tail, feigning amusement at the suggestion of their former leader would rally her allies to track them and seek to remind them of their place in the world, “I'd like to see them try.”

Truthfully, the Nightwalkers were a group that she knew so little about, yet they made her feel nervous. Through Almight she'd learned that they stunk of shit and piss, and that they'd been responsible for Flynn's beating. They were as ominous as the name of their pack suggested, and she hoped with every fibre of her being that Célnes would simply seethe in silence over her guards' dispersal.

“There's still a chance that I could,” she quipped as Meissa continued to go all soft on her, and shrugged a thin shoulder awkwardly as her copper gaze was averted. She looked to the pool where the waterfall frothed white, and trailed her gaze to the top where she half expected to see Flynn's stupid face peeking over the rocks above. “But I guess I won't, now that you've sort of expected me to. Can't be caught living up to expectations now, can I?” She eyed the warrior smugly, then barked a laugh - with her this time, hopefully, as opposed to at her.


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 She gave a half-laugh but it wasn't true. The two wolves she'd met from there were massive males who looked like they could do real damage, especially to their little smattering of oddballs. Remus, too, could do some damage - he was trained in it and she expected that his experience would overpower even her brawn.

 All in all, it wasn't something she wanted to get involved with. Ergo, leave the Temperate, get out of their radar. Hopefully they wouldn't come after them but it would be a waiting game. After all, Almight did say that the Nightwalkers were mercenaries, which meant they were even more dangerous.

 Meissa followed the yearling's gaze to the waterfall, wondering where the water went after being swallowed by those depths. Surely downstream, they'd been walking near a river but had wound around it to reach this place. The sink hole was interesting and she wondered how it had happened... and if it would happen again. Were they likely to find neighboring sink holes similar to this one? She looked back at Tavra at the comment and grinned, raising a brow. “Gotta keep us on our toes, eh?”

 “What's this place like close up?” She sniffed, taking a step down the slope. “No signs of occupation by wolf or otherwise?” She sniffed, wondering if the caves were used by bears during the winter. Well, if they were, they'd have to find a new place.

 That is, if Flynn decided to stop them here.

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Deeper within the caverns, as far as she could safely go, the rock faces glistened with water. Tavra supposed it came from splashback, from where the river churned the surface of the pool. Back there it stunk of moss and damp, and with these unpleasant aromas she'd failed to look for another way to follow where the stream might've gone. The last thing she wanted was to be swept away underground.

“Nothing like Elkshire territory,” the russet she-wolf answered, for all she'd done was compare the two. The plains were vast and open, with minimal shelter which would no doubt cause problems for them omitted the season. She'd felt the sun burn deep into the furs of her back, her brow, and she dreaded to think how bitterly cold the Wintertime might be. “Not a sniff of any idiots around, either.”

Tavra veered to follow Meissa and she ventured further, her confidence bolstered by the presence of another to once more test the hidden depths.

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 Well, that was for certain. From what she could tell, Elkshire's land was pretty solidly above ground, besides the Grotto and various other individual dens. This, this was something she doubted ever existed anywhere in her old world. Though, to be fair, her old world was entirely sand for the most part, give or take an oasis and the odd trip she took to outer lands, where there were swamps and beaches and forests galore.

 Honestly, the open plains reminded her of home.

 “Good, hopefully they won't come knocking.” She glanced to the sky, thinking. The clouds were heavy, covering the land in a dull light wherein most of the colours were muted. Even her reds looked more like brown in this gloom. “Should rain tonight, hopefully it'll wash away any of our traveling trails.” So all they would have to worry about for the time being would be locals.

 Her paws brought her deeper into the grasp of the sinkhole and she looked along the sides. If those shadows meant anything, there were likely caves poking here and there out of the walls, both on this "ground floor" and the higher levels. There was one coming up on the left, behind a slanted rock that looked like it had broken into various large chunks when the earth was sucked in. She approached the entrance, cautiously gazing in and inhaling.

 Good. No bear scent. No scent of any sort except earth and floral decay.

 This cave entrance was about as tall as a grizzy bear's shoulders, perhaps slightly shorter. Not massive but definitely sizeable enough to allow lupine entrance.

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Beneath her nimble white paws Tavra felt the ground shift, and as she paused to look down she noticed that she'd stepped on a patch of moss. Slick on the damp stone, it could've been like the equivalent of slipping on an old banana peel. Quick to collect herself, the tiny she-wolf flicked it away to the side with her toes and scrunched her nose in mild annoyance.

“I'm fucking sick of the rain,” Tavra snorted. There really was no pleasing her; she'd hated the sun burning into the back of her ears on the trip toward the plains, but the heavens had pissed down pretty much the entire duration of her time in Elkshire. Why couldn't it just be dry and cool for a while?

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 Meissa laughed, her claws scraping against moss as she inspected the rocky entrance. “Agreed,” she said with a grin. With the season, rain came readily and often. Flynn, also, had a fear of storms which she had protected him against. Unlike most, the rain and thunder didn't faze the woman. It was almost a relief, after the fear and anxiety of the travel, “At least there's plenty of space to hide out from it here.”

 Plenty of space to make dens and places to rest. She wondered if Flynn would teach the others of the craft of fur-skinning, to create soft nests despite all the stone. Undoubtedly, they would have the most comfortable den in the place for the time being. “I think this might be a better home for us than any forest,” she mused aloud though almost to herself.

 Ah, yes, this would do nicely.

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