Cairnstone Climb warlord's ruin

Some things had not changed, it seemed.

She thought she had caught faint traces of the Cove in the area. Which meant tragedy had not yet toppled them or sent them off the mountain. Her heart skipped softly. She wondered... Part of her wished to see some of the faces there and yet she feared what might happen if she stepped a single claw back into the Cove again. As if the place was a vortex instead of a home.

It was why she hovered, in the lands near enough to perhaps be spotted by a roving guardian or a scout set out. The climb offered a view that was as expansive as she could have hoped for. Yet she knew that too meant she was exposed in return.

Her tail lashed out behind her. She had no want to hide, it seemed, even if she had not come down.

 

Maybe it was the season’s influence, or perhaps just bridled rage rushing through his veins, but Leo felt unusually restless. The Cove lockdown was still in effect, preventing him from going beyond the valley, to work out his emotions in peace. Instead, he resorted to solitary patrols around the lake, on the lookout for any signs of the threat that hung over his family.

 

So far, he had found nothing, growing ever more frustrated at the boundaries he’d been set; I need to do more! No enemy was stalking around here, waiting to pounce on a careless Cove wolf – whoever had hurt Magg was keeping their distance. Or so the Vuesain believed, but the sudden appearance of a stranger on the horizon made him question himself.

 

The pale figure was robust in build, walking among the cairns with apparent confidence. It made the guardian pause, thinking of his leader’s warning against challenging anyone on his own. But he wasn’t about to turn tail either, eager to exert the Cove’s wrath on anyone who thought them weak. And so, not yet recognizing the young woman who had spend part of her childhood among their ranks, he approached on slow, steady paws with hackles and tail both raised high, waiting for her to make her move.

She looked upon him as if she had never seen him before.

Perhaps she hadn't. It seemed that the Cove was hardly as receptive to her as it had been once before. He looked every bit the image of an angered guardian. All he needed as to wield teeth against her to finish the painting. It was better for them both that he had not. Yet it emboldened her to say something that very well might have cost her. I see the Cove still stands, She exhaled, a soft tilt of her chin. But not as friendly to me as they once were. Her voice stayed steady as if she only stated a fact.

Would @Magg have greeted her the same way? Was she still even there? Adora silenced her thoughts enough to focus on the man before her fully.

ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ || ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇ

 

The closer he got, the more he realized; She’s just a yearling… Of course, he wouldn’t put his guard down entirely, for all he knew it could be a ruse. But as he came to a halt within a few lengths, the edge was taken off his display. That was until she spoke, the poised tone making his lips twist in a silent snarl. “In spite of those who would tear us down,” He answered in a deceptively quiet tone, keeping two-colored eyes locked on the girl.

 

Her insinuation of previous relations to his pack meant little, it could be an outright lie for all he knew. And yet a feint memory hovered at the back of his mind, there had been quite a number of pups drifting through their ranks last year, though, he thought he’d have a clearer memory of such a unique appearance. “And who are you, that the Cove owes you any goodwill?” He asked levelly, voice still low but firm. Young or not, she was an intruder and would be treated as one.

Something in her twisted and coiled. Angered to be talked to in such a way. As if she had not also suffered with the Cove during dark times until she could take no more. Her gaze smoldered, but she bid her body to stay neutrally posed.

Adora Macieo, daughter of Woya Macieo. Once those of Fool's Gold Chasm before we came to be with family. She almost dared to think that he might act as if those names and titles meant nothing. As if, somehow, the Cove had already forgot them all. Wiped away the memory of her family and their legacies.

She terribly missed her mother in this moment.

ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ || ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇ

 

That one stung. So he had recognized her, except she looked so different now - almost a year older than when her family departed – and with righteous fire blazing in her bright eyes. Leo’s shoulder inadvertently jerked up, snarl turning to a grimace as he wavered between maintaining his hostile façade and admitting fault. Something in her steely demeanor made him want to posture in turn.

But his parents (former and present) had raised him better. He let his tail and ears both fall, corners of his mouth turning down as he breathed: “Adora?” But it wasn’t a real question, it was her. She was family, and he had tried to chase her off. “I’m sorry,” he admitted, all the previous thunder now gone from his voice, replaced by earnest remorse; “Things have been… Rough, lately.” Although that wasn’t much of an excuse; When aren’t they?

As he laid down his sword, she let down her shield. He had acted in a way she saw to be redeemable. He sounded genuine when he delivered an apology to her. She only softened her features, a delicate nod of her head. She would no longer hold it above him or over either of them.

She hated that was she no longer shocked by his next words though.

It seemed the Cove continued to be some kind of vortex as she had thought. There was a temptation to say What now? but it would be too calloused and cruel.

Is there anything I can do? And she meant it, in the newfound gentle tones she carried. Brows pinched in something closer to concern now instead of judgement.

ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ || ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇ

 

Virtuously, she seemed to accept his apology, softening that mask of steel and fire. Leo’s tail gave a light wave in gratitude, ears lifting at her words. “I don’t know,” he admitted, unable to be anything but honest. She deserved as much, but it was beyond that, some quality of hers demanded his honesty. “I wouldn’t want… You shouldn’t be dragged into this.” Although he doubted anyone could actually drag her into anything against her will.

 

Of course, it wasn’t that he wouldn’t be happy to have her back among them, but it would be unfair to expose her to that same threat as the rest of them. At least, without first having all the facts, and so he continued somberly: “Magg’s been hurt. Someone did it, on purpose, but we’re not sure who.” Of course, he had his suspicions, but they did not belong in this conversation. Maybe even this was admitting too much, but it was too late now. All he could do was watch for her response, all while wondering if his little sister would be happy to see her friend again, in her current condition, or not.

She might have tried to find a way to agree in a polite manner. Hadn't she left to escape that? The tragedy that strangled the Cove. She was nearly convinced they'd all die in that nestled spot before favor smiled upon them. A cruel thought and not one she enjoyed in the slightest.

She had been prepared to disengage. Until she heard that name.

Her heart lurched up into her throat. A wearily croaked... Magg? Her composed face faltered and with it came a glimpse of tragic horror. Hurt, not dead. Yet she hardly imagined that someone who had struck on purpose had left her alive out of kindness, right?

How bad is it?

ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ || ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇ