Morning, after daybreak; Overcast; Current Temperature: 66° F/19° C

Angier Lyall leisurely strolled through the Wildwood. Though he was intent on bringing something to the pack den - a rabbit, squirrel, anything really - he was secretly nosing about in hopes of getting wind of Vlarindara. Something within him however definitely figured (or knew) she would not be in this neck of the woods. Grizzly Hollow was quite a trek from the recovering forest. Borden's newest pups, his nieces and nephews, were probably due at any time if they weren't already there and she was probably very busy. In fact, it was possibly the best explanation he had to account for why he hadn't seen much of her in these past few weeks.

A sharp pang caught him in his chest and he stopped in his tracks to close his eyes and take a deep breath. His lips parted and he exhaled slowly before continuing on his aimless path. He was fine, Vlarindara was fine. He was sure... Everything was fine, really... now that he really thought about it. He took a cautious step over a weathered tree that had probably fallen when the Wildwood had caught fire sometime last year, lifting his lengthy limbs high enough as not to trip or lose his balance. Once he had given himself some distance between him and obstacle he took a glance at it over his shoulder. If only overcoming life's problems were as easy as that had been.

Sniffing, he shook his head and continued until he found a suitable place to sit down and collect himself. Beside a scorched tree, decorated with lush climbing vines and pitch black scorch marks, he gazed up to the treetops. The birds, even on a gray morning like this one, were singing. He smiled to himself, gazing back down at his paws. Vlarindara wasn't around, the sun wasn't shining much through the clouds, and he had yet to pick up something to cache away but it wasn't enough to make him decide today would be a terrible one. Not yet anyway, at least.

Stomp, stomp. The Mackenzie female stalked among the burnt trunks with a limp bundle of plush fur dangling from her carefully closed jaws. Remy was still full from the goat family fallen by herself and Elettra; the only reason she had snatched the hare's life in the first place was a primal drive for bloodlust. There was little emptiness in her belly and yet he had been so close... so stupid, foolishly nibbling on grass and failing to notice the wolf lounging so close. So when Remy shifted toward him and he still hadn't noticed, it was only fair to grab him out of the world. The dumb ones need not reproduce. She did not intend for the food to go to waste, although she had yet to figure something to do with it. Her teeth wrapped around the morsel with a delicacy that could not be seen in her pawsteps; such a bulky creature would never have the luxury of walking gently, and the whole Wildwood could hear of her approach.

A creature of habit, it was not surprising at all that the pale she-wolf found herself once again within the Wildwood. Despite the lush quality of the unaffected forest she found herself always drawn to the ashen remains. The skeletal trees could not entangle her. The burnt leaves pounded into dust could not hinder her. There was truly no place to hide among the survivors. Remy did rather like it that way. It was plain, and yet still mystical to look upon. There was almost nothing to distract the eyes from the absolute agony that had once hailed upon the Wildwood in the form of flames. In itself it was a scar on the face of the Lore, and that made it interesting, made it special, which was more important to Remy than surrounding beauty.

Carelessly she admired the white-washed trees until a peculiar smell saw fit to steal her attention. It was some male, nearby, who had the claim of a certain territory within his fur. For a moment her plodding pace slowed, and she thought of the still-warm hare hanging from her jaws. Well... perhaps it wouldn't be a damn friendly loner, because he had a pack already? Remy was a wolf of many faults, one of which being this: she really did hate company. Most wolves were so intolerable. Then why was she always intrigued by a new scent? Her curiousity would take the best of her, like the last time it had when she found that group of wolves and the strange tree, but she never wanted to interact with them. Then their dirty looks would grace her (as though she cared?) and she'd lose interest and leave while they called her a bitch behind her grey-shaded back. Remy flicked a red ear. She ought to ignore the scent... she ought to ignore it. She ought to...

But she didn't. Falling prey once again to her fickle mind she picked up the scent and followed it until it produced one rather skinny male sitting casually beneath the grey sky. The approach had been anything but silent, so she did not slow as she came a respectful distance from him. Delicately, Remy placed the hare on the dead leaves beneath her paws and rose her head. She held her thick body proudly, but without aggression. Then she motioned toward the fallen prey with her oversized paw and questioned shortly, "Have you any need for this?"

She would not consider it a kindness, kindness was stupid. This was merely practical. Why let fresh food go to waste if she would not make any use of it? Her pale gaze held fast upon the male, in case he decided to mistake her gesture for something far from what it was. The severity of her expression would likely ward him off from it, but Remy never knew. There were always so many damn friendly wolves to be found in every inch of the Lore.

His eyes lifted as the sounds of someone approaching snagged him away from his thoughts. He waited until the footsteps stopped then turned to look directly at the creature who had joined him. The scent of blood lingered in the air and his nostrils twitched as he took her in. She was no slight creature. In fact her build might have taken him aback if she had not held her distance. He was about to look away and ignore her but her question made him glance right back into her masked face. "Have you any need for this?"

He had assumed for a moment that she had set the hare down to rest a bit before she continued on to wherever she was going. He ground his molars together as answers began to queue up in his head. Perhaps this was a trick. Maybe she had asked so she could quickly retort with a "Well, too bad" if he had actually answered that he did. One of his brows furrowed and he stood up slowly. "I do, actually," he replied in a timely fashion, not wanting to overthink the conversation he had just entered. A hint of a smug grin slid across his tawny face. "I'm guessing that you... don't?" Both of his brows rose as he waited for her answer. His mild tone could have been read as sarcastic or snide, perhaps even churlish on one extreme, but for the record he had merely given in to his more snarky side, something he had not done since he had last met Elettra in the Orchard.

"If you're offering it freely, I must ask... what could you possibly want from me?"

The wolf showed little interest in her offer at first, which was by all means fine. This would've been nothing more than a little blip from the solitude of her day and she could go on meandering as she often did without having suffered the awkardness of another interaction with the strange wolves Relic Lore liked to house. Yet, after a moment of his silence, the male slowly rose from his seat and concurred with her offer. Interestingly enough, he seemed to lack bloodlust in his eyes. Perhaps she was just not watching closely enough to discern his needs; he seemed skinny, but most skinny wolves would leap at the chance for free food, not stand and watch cautiously. Perhaps this would be the second wolf she'd ever meet with sense?

Incorrect. Remy was not certain what his tone was (she didn't make a habit of making conversation with strangers enough to be able to know the little nuances of attitude) but it certainly wasn't gratitude. Something tugged at the corner of the male's lips, but it wasn't malicious. Was it... joking? At once she was baffled by his conduct. His further question only forced her deeper into the sea of oblivion. What could you possibly want from me?

Remy lifted her head, nose wrinkling as though she'd just been offered someone's dirty socks. "Nothing..." she managed to reply, standing there with a blank face. What was his meaning? Was this... some kind of game? She really wasn't the kind of wolf to screw with others for shits and giggles. In fact, Remy disdained that as child's play. Moments of amusement were nothing more than time wasted. But then, the longer she looked at his smug smile, the more it rubbed her the wrong way. Suddenly she felt a strange inkling of possessiveness over the rabbit at her feet and subconsciously the Mackenzie female leaned forward. Perhaps she did have a moment for child's play after all...

"Nothing," she repeated with more ferocity this time, a mischevious glint appearing in her pale eyes. "Nothing but a debt owed, for a later time, at my own personal whim."

Perhaps he'd go for it. Perhaps not. She hoped not. There was no need for him to agree to something so stupid. It wasn't as though they were on a shortage of rabbits and he desperately needed her commodity. The only way he'd agree was if he were to want to mess with her back... and then she would finally know what his intention was. Something delightfully crooked gained on her otherwise plain expression, clearly eager to see how he would return her banter. If the encounter went smoothly, maybe she could enlist him for some actual duty in the future. Maybe he'd present himself with some form of special skill. Either way, there had to be something profitable to come from this silly rabbit.

"Nothing," she answered. Angier stifled a small chuckle. "Reeeeaaally?" he teased. She repeated the word, then continued to state that she owed him a debt at her convenience. He slowly took a step forward then stopped in his tracks to gauge her reaction. "Oh, really? And what type of whim are we speaking of?" His head tilted to the side as he began to entertain what possible tasks she would need him for - herb gathering, spying, a deal with Swift River, chasing off unwanted suitors, or, without a doubt, hunting large prey...

He observed the look upon her face. "I'm true to my word," he tried to persuade her. "You could ask a small number of wolves if they had had the pleasure of meeting me, sweet'eart." Though the words that had left his mouth were indeed true, he was somewhat certain she would take it as him setting up some sort of ploy. In that case, he decided he would back off. It was just... rather convenient for her to offer her kill when he had yet to make up his quota for filling up the pack's caches. It was one less hare to track down and less energy for him expend. The hare would feed one mouth for a day. That fact alone was enough.

"Whatever you could possibly want, I'll gladly give you in exchange," he shuffled closer to her but still kept a good amount of distance between them. His tail flicked and he offered another half-smug, half-charmed grin. One deep breath and he could immediately tell that she did not belong to a pack. Maybe the rabbit was an icebreaker of sorts and she did need it. "A member of the pack I have to feed and stock up for would gladly relish that rabbit... if you truly don't mean to make a feast of it."

She lifted her pale chin a little higher, confused. "Any whim. Do not fool yourself; I am not particularly whimsical, but I suppose there may come a day where I could use two bodies instead of one." Remy prided herself on self-reliance, so coming up with an actual way to utilize him was quite difficult for the female. She'd never had to use a pawn before, never really understood what good it did... but many other wolves saw it fit to do, so she had to find a way. Meanwhile, he spoke himself trustworthy, although she truly didn't care if he reniged on their agreement or not. The Mackenzie wolf was not totally invested in the idea still. Perhaps if she passed enough time with this silly banter Remy would just hand the stupid hare over and be on her merry way, back into her life of solitude. Tricks were not her forte, and neither was this back-and-forth word play. Yet just when she was beginning to contemplate defeat at the hands of her skinny word wizard, he uttered just the one to burn her white flag.

Sweetheart. The word echoed in her mind, each time sounding more and more sinister. Her expression lost whatever playfulness it held, falling blank while she exhaled a deep sigh. Why was it that all men thought themselves wise with the craft of seduction? Did they believe sweet nothings could unarm a female so easily? Remy, of course, was much more offended to be called one even in jest. Perhaps brave could describe her heart, or strong or even cold, but never sweet. The lie tasted like filth on her tongue. The irritation sparked in her pale-toned eyes and she twisted her head to stare directly at him, face eerily blank. "Sadly I am already abundantly overconfident so your excellent ability in flattery is, to put it bluntly, useless to me."

Still she could not fathom from where he found his attitude particularly safe. Perhaps he thought she was alone... at the present moment she was without company, but she was not without protection somewhere. The pack would be officiated any day now, but until that moment came Remy was still sure that those who had signed on to follow Elettra would serve as her informal packmates regardless. As he inched closer forward she remained stagnant in her position, but did find it fit to utter flatly, "I've already made a feast of mountain goats with my up and coming leader... and as much as my sweetest of hearts would love to help your pack-mate out, I am afraid I am still not impressed." Was he truly underestimating her, or was he just trying to play her for a fool like she was doing for him? Remy could no longer tell, though she really never could in the first place. In a vague motion to get the upper hand, she would turn the table and demand, "So tempt me. What could you offer?" She expected some interesting rebuttal on her word choice there, perhaps about the male's powers of persuasion when it came to temptation, but this time she would do her best to ignore it.

The abrupt change of tone in the conversation did not surprise Angier in even the slightest bit. He could have been standing on a rug and this gal could have pulled it right out from under him and he still would have been as he was... on the floor, maybe, but still in genuinely good spirits. Her irritation only broadened his grin into a sort of twisted smirk. Ultimately, should she need his aid, she preferred to keep the possibilities of his task open but his words of adulation were not taken to as kindly as he had hoped. It didn't bother him much after he actually thought about it. He still had Vlarindara after all; there was no need to have another woman tagging along after him.

The mottled lady continued to inform him that she was well-taken care of, not just independently but well looked after by a leader. Additionally, she did not seem awed at all by his proposal. "So tempt me," she stated. "Well," he began again, his voice curling up on a note as he thought. "Hmm..." His brow arched and another grin washed over his masked features. "I could return the favor and bring you a generous offering in exchange for your offer... venison... or two rabbits... sometime?" His head tilted in thought and he was quick to add, "Actually, if neither of those tickles your fancy, perhaps, a good ol' fashioned time would do... One can only patrol borders, fill caches, and hunt for so long after all..."

Her irritation appeared to have the opposite effect on the male as she would've wanted, though she was just as unsurprised as he. Her nose threatened to wrinkle as she considered him with her pale gaze, wondering why it was such a delight to most wolves to rub others the wrong way. It was certain that Remy was not faultless at the act: she apparently pissed off nine out of every ten wolves she happened to come across, though she never made it a purpose of her own to accommodate her actions solely to bother a stranger. Apparently her personality was just off-putting. How, she could not figure out.

This male, however, was an outright curious specimen. The moment she saw him first he'd been an unassuming sort of fellow, lanky and just... sitting. Remy was no good at reading others for she lacked desperately in social skills, but as far as she was concerned he had been giving off quite the nonchalant vibe. Unfortunately her engagement of him had delved him to open a deeper level of his, one that wore a permanent smirk, constantly stretching a little bigger and bigger the more her red ears twitched in annoyance. For all the determination she'd had in owning the game just moments prior, Remy was realizing quite quickly that the game required an awful lot of effort. Charming smiles, twisted words, constantly being one step ahead. It was an awful lot for so little reward. When his jaws parted next he presented exactly what the dark-backed female had begun to expect: an awful lot of banter.

Perhaps fanciful words were less her forte, but that didn't mean she couldn't win the game her own way. "I have much trust in your generosity, so perhaps we ought to just agree to refrain from the specifics. The day will come when I will have want for something I cannot think of and I will come for you." Unfortunately, she could not figure out who he was just by staring at him. If she could she would have long ago for her eyes never left the man. Now she could do with a straight-forward answer, but she hazarded the guess that one would not be so easily bought. None the less, she tried.

"My name is Remy Geddes, and I follow Elettra Archer," she introduced quite flatly, hoping the prompt would be enough for him to return the information. And if it didn't... One large paw would smack the rabbit away from herself, launching the body into his playing field. It hadn't been dead long enough for rigor mortis so the poor creature flopped miserably as it hit the ground. Then Remy lifted her chin and fixed him with an expectant, but somewhat grouchy stare. If he took the stupid thing and ran, well, she wouldn't chase him... but the next time their paths crossed she would be certain to return the kindness.

Of all the things Angier could have hoped for, another debt to be paid landed on his plate. Now, not only was he still indebted to Indru and the wolves of the River his allegiance, but he owed this particular woman something in exchange for her rabbit. Sure, he might have taken such a leap to acquire a small token but to the Lyall, everything had been absolutely worth it. He gave her a nod to show that he agreed to reimburse her for the meal with whatever whim she could possibly need or use him for. His golden eyes dropped to the rabbit but he did not step forward just yet to claim it.

"My name is Remy Geddes," she then offered, albeit bluntly, "and I follow Elettra Archer." His head tilted as he replayed what she had just said in his mind. Oh ho ho... Things couldn't have gotten any sweeter than this! The smirk that had practically fallen from his muzzle was poorly recollected as he figured out what his tie to Remy and to Elettra could possibly mean to him. A sort of quietness fell upon his stance and he looked down for a while before he lifted his gaze again. "Angier Lyall," he imparted to her, bowing his head in such a way to give the honest impression that Elettra had at some point won over his respect. "I have known of Elettra's struggles with Grizzly Hollow and it truly gladdens me to hear that she has begun to collect wolves who have sworn fealty to her."

His voice grew solemn, and it finally clicked that she had had enough of his quips, "I have pledged myself to the Swift River wolves, but should Elettra or her pack require anything, I wholeheartedly offer my assistance." Belonging to a pack had always been one thing to Angier, namely a sense of fellowship among wolves who would help him no matter what, but affiliating himself as apart of a pack with other wolves (rogue or pack alike) was something quite valuable in his mind. Should he be ousted from a pack or owe something tangible, he could always be assured that someone, somewhere, would be willing to take him in or help him to some degree in exchange for his skill sets in hunting, plant knowledge, and - sometimes - a bit of comfort, telling those desperate for peace of mind almost exactly what they wanted to hear.

Remy was somewhat surprised to see the male do little more than nod his head. It was the simplest gesture of agreement so there couldn't be much of a way to sneak some dirty trick into it, right? He seemed to be fond of loopholes and mindgames... or perhaps his smug smirk in itself was a mindgame and she was trapped in a trustless bubble by her own accord? No, wait... Remy was always trapped in a trustless bubble by her own accord. The male's golden stare had fallen downwards, but he couldn't be so enraptured by the simple rabbit. Whatever was running through his mind at the moment was an absolute mystery to her, and it was with a skeptical pale gaze that she met him when he finally lifted his head once again. Angier Lyall, he had offered her, followed by a curious tidbit of information. Her dark-furred leader had come from the Cedarwood forest... It was difficult to imagine the life of Grizzly Hollow wolves, knowing nothing of their leaders or really anything about them at all besides Sibyl being among their ranks, along with that awful Follko. No wonder she'd left...

“Won’t she be most pleased to note your friendship has transcended the time that has passed since she left the Hollow wolves?” Remy noted with an amused expression, though she hardly knew what it meant. After all, she had no knowledge of Elettra’s past – and truthfully she didn’t care in the sense that it would change her opinion of the dark-coated woman. Her struggles could’ve very well involved slaughtering the leaders and their children to take it over – whatever suited her fancy. The she-wolf had presented herself to be a female worthy of followers and leadership was her place; no problem to Remy if that was how she wanted to take it. Yet as Angier continued his words provided her with yet another surprise, for it seemed he as well might have deemed the silver-eyed woman a creature of utmost value.

Was… was he lying? Damn his perpetual smirk, for she could not read him even once it had disappeared. She swore she saw the ghost of it even though his voice had fallen to a more neutral tone. He had offered his assistance wholeheartedly... even as a wolf sworn to another allegience (which, as was unnecessary to mention, her sheltered mind had no recognition of). There was no hint of tricksy business on his face but her judgemental nudge was a difficult trait to turn off. Cooly, Remy prodded, "Why?" Her words were not spat with the skepticism she felt in her chest, but merely mused as though it were an off-handed question, the answer to which she did not care much for. Yet Remy did dearly care for the answer, if only to see if he might actually provide a reason that he should have a positive link to her new pack. The matter, of course, didn't have to be pressed if his cheeky grin returned. After all she would trust Elettra's word over this man's - but if she was coming home with some interesting story, there might as well be facts of use within the weave.