Riddle Heights Seven seconds - Printable Version

The mountain posed an obstacle, sure, but it wasn't anything like Nellie had expected. To be honest, she found the imposing peaks to be a little disappointing. That was neither here, nor there though, as it hopefully meant that the rest of their journey would be a breeze. As their decent began, the faint taste of a pack started pouring into the air, growing stronger with the passage of time, and proximity. She was sure that the others would avoid it's borders, so she didn't double back, or trudge forward to find them. Hell, if they decided to cross the invisible line of scent markers, then they deserved the beating they got.

In an attempt to shave some time off of their journey, the shadowy girl stuck as closely to the borders as could be considered polite, unwilling to step on anyone's paws, but also not wanting to swing any farther out. If a wolf came to see what she was doing than so be it. She wasn't even that close. Trudging forward, Nellie kept their endgame in mind. Find mum.

Revon was missing. Taken by a wolf that matched Sven’s appearance, allegedly. The streamline Archer had a hard time believing his brother was behind his daughter’s absence. Their little squabble over prey and hunting ground was hardly a reason for the girl to be taken. They were both Archers, after all. It didn’t make sense. But the stranger had been so certain—and likeliness to Sven was impossible to ignore. But it didn’t make sense! A frown cut across his maw as he maneuvered along the heights, his long, nimble legs heading east. Toward his birthpack. To see if he could catch scent of Revon and her capture.

But an unfamiliar scent pulled him away, causing his features to contort as a low growl caught in his throat. The figure in the distance did not match the description but it was worth a shot. Everyone was a suspect now; he could not trust any wolf.

So he approached, his tail arched high above his back and his chin lifted. He offered no verbal greeting; a low woof being given instead. His mercury pools spoke for him, narrowed into a sharp glance: Who are you? The wolf bore a striking resemblance to his sister but he had forgotten about her brood. The fear of losing his own had clouded his memory.

Nellie's mind was focused on the task at hand, as she tasted the air for any signs left by their mother. So far she'd found little more than the stale scent that they had already been following. Oh, and the unfamiliar musk of a stranger from the pack whose border she was carefully avoiding. The latter was easily ignored, until the notes of fir, and air, and lupine grew strong enough to make the youth halt. She wouldn't be chased down like some sad sort of prey. Archer's weren't mice.

Turning to face the inky man, she took note of his dominant stance. So was he their alpha, or was he just having a bad day? Movement behind the Archer female sent a dark ear orbiting backwards to find that Tilly had stumbled upon them, and so Nellie didn't lower her stance like she might have if she were alone. Instead, the shadowy girl chose to remain neutral. "Elenora Archer, and yer?"

Another approached, much paler in appearance to her counterpart. He snorted, his gaze hardening as he observed the pair. They looked abut Revon’s age, which made him hopeful. It was possible that they had seen his daughter or knew where she was… whether that was amongst the willows or not. But it was the familiarity of the two that captured the shadow’s curiosity, his nostrils flared. The first was quick to speak, wasting no time in introducing herself. The name earned a flick of the ear from the mountain king, his head tipping to the side. Elenora Archer. One of Morganna’s. He should have known. The dark fur should have been a dead giveaway, but Greer had been too wrapped up in his own skull to realize. Morg’s? He asked, his posture still stiff as his silver gaze landed on the lighter of the two. He had to make sure before making assumptions. And giving out his own name.

The mention of their mother's name forced Nellie's head upwards as well, mirroring Tilly's though the fiery girl had no idea. So this man, whomever he was, knew Morganna? And well enough to know that they would be her brood. Interesting...

Nellie was about to say something along the lines of 'Yer know ou' ma?' But Matilda beat her to the punch. She supposed that his name was important as well, but what really kept her from speaking was the fact that she was so pleased to hear Tilly's voice. They were a team, and talking over each other wouldn't make them look all that cohesive should this man want to cause them harm, though the youth doubted that he did. If he was someone who would hurt them then their mother would have taken care of him already.

The silver-dusted girl was quick to answer, but not with her name. Instead she confirmed his suspicions and asked for his name a second time, her golden gaze narrowed. Smart girls. Morganna had done well with her children—especially since they had gotten this far. They were clearly on the right trail, only a few days to a week behind their mother. Unless, of course, they were coming up from the east and heading west. Greer wasn’t sure if he would steer them in the right direction or not… wasn’t it all some big test anyway? Shouldn’t they know which way to go?

Greer Archer, he snapped back quickly, his brows falling into a thin line. Uncle. He shrugged. The ebony Archer did not know how much his sister told them about her life in Lore—and if she had even mentioned him. With five children running around he imagined that she had better things to do than talk about her brother Greer. The silent Archer who had disappeared with his mountain girlfriend and formed a pack in his sister’s absence. Just Archer things.