Solitaire.



She was greatly surprised to hear the other out of The Caldera. If Warbler did not know any better, she would have believed to feel the cold feeling of fates fingertips creeping up her spine to press heavily onto her shoulder. A reminder of the prophecy. For a moment, there was that thought. It is true. It will fall apart, for that tawny thing... And then she shook her head. It was made by Shrike to doom Warbler's own chance at a reign, and that was all. There was no glow of premonition as her mother breathed these words to the Caldera; only a steady, straightfaced stare.


The gaunt Warbler moved to their decided rendezvous. All the while she thought. Solitaire was a wolf who cared for the sisters and brothers of the Caldera; she, too, was a wolf who had been there all of her life. Warbler supposed she should be thankful for the prophecy. It meant others like the goodhearted, gentle wolf who had left home would assist her in her search. None knew, of course, of Warbler's true intent; none ever would.



She moved through the forest and emerged through a break in the wood, luminescent eyes holding to the other. Warbler bore the other no love, but that was never for the other to know, either. She had a reputation among The Caldera. Prickly, yes, but all for the safety of those she loved. It was Shrike who had insisted this, and Warbler would not refute it, false though it was. Warbler loved nothing more than power, and as it was in her reach she became all the more colder.



It was not to be seen. Warbler waved her tail and moved to greet the other with a gentle bump of her muzzle to the others temple. It is good to see your face, though it makes me uneasy, as well. It is as though we are unknowing pawns in this prophecy. It is not so, is it, Solitaire? You have come to help me find her, to bring her home? her eyes were expressive, full of true hope. Simply not for the reason she expressed. But that hope? It was a real, living thing, and it radiated from her.

The others first words were all Warbler wished to hear. The others belief in the prophecy was what she needed the other to hold for her own selfish sake. And Solitaire would be none the wiser to it! And so her pleased expression was genuine, too. Warbler had not held her breath; she breathed easy, and would continue to do so, throughout this encounter. She was a seasoned veteran in the war of manipulating others, and she was comfortable in the saddle of it. There was no reason for one so scrawny and weak (in appearance) to have such a commanding air, but others did not test it when she presented it. Surely for their own good? Fortunately, it was so for her own.


You need not even think that way. Two in this search is certainly better than one, Warbler decided with a nod of her head. My search here has only truly just begun. No luck, yet, Warbler frowned. We must find her before the first of heavy snows, for the better of the Caldera. Surely this prophecy would be the ruin of us this season. Drifters. Death. Belief was a powerful thing. And Warbler was happy to feed paranoia to the other. Warbler had everything to gain from it.