Another chorus of raucous cries cut through the silence. His ear twitched as he lifted his pale face to the sky for a better view of the dark birds circling in the distance. The ravens had been alert for almost a half-hour, and the mocha-furred hunter was alert with them. They were scheming together, the ravens, communicating their plans to one another through their voices and the beats of their wings. Slowly their route ascended the mountain. Of all the scavengers, ravens were the best to listen to. Intelligent and intuitive, the birds by some cantrip knew where there was prey before any other creature. Rykas rarely mistrusted their morbid songs.


In a few seconds, the male was on his feet. He jogged after the flock, his ears cupped to their voices though he faced forward. Eventually, his pace slowed as the trees thinned and the rocks grew steeper, more dangerous. By now the wanderer had climbed many mountains, and his paws quickly found footing in the nooks of the ashy boulders.


He reached a small plateau and paused, panting softly. The scent of death was strong now, delicious. Above, the ravens swarmed in a cyclone of dark wings. Bright, hungry mahogany eyes searched below them, and there was the ancient buck, just resting its head into a casket of vibrant autumn leaves. But the ravens were not alone in sensing the old creature's passing. Behind it, four coyotes were closing in. Rykas frowned, his ears twitching back against his skull. He could have handled one of them, or perhaps two -- but not four. These were mountain coyotes, strong and ruthless creatures. Trying to take what they had found first would earn him nothing but injury and pain.


Rykas slumped onto his haunches, his head low as he faced the feasting coyotes with burning eyes. Too angry to leave, he decided to watch. The ravens were entertaining, fluttering around the small canines, some roosting in the tree branches. They, too, were waiting. The wolf could not make himself give up yet.

Like usual it was a morning patrol turned leisurely stroll that found the night-coated female crossing into Riddle Heights' domain. Ava never did find herself out so far from the Poison Path border, reason in hand, and yet seldom did she discover boredom. There was always a new path to take, more boulders to scale and weasels to chase. Occasionally she would come across a predator like herself, a mountain lion, or a wolverine, or sometimes even one of her own. It seemed for whatever reason that they'd been seeing far less visits than she used to, so when the whiff of wolf touched her nose she was less than hasty to turn away from it.

Loners frequented the Heights more often than anywhere else; it was difficult to locate their Lake unless one had been there before and the Mountain itself was far crueler than these petty foothills. Therefore it was not his scent that surprised her, but rather its strength. The path was recent - fresh, actually. She'd never marked her territory here, but it was the home of her favorite sunning rock and the Poisoned wolves liked to consider themselves kings and queens of the entire mountain... regardless that their actual residence was hidden in the valley some half hour's walk away. And like any proud and lonely thronehead, Ava could not resist but seeking out the stranger.

Easily the she-wolf gained on the path, and quickly did she come across the reason for his being here in the first place: the further she moved on his scent, the more and more did the fragrance of age seem to appear. Lucky was he that she was far enough from her home to not feel possessive over his grand find, and that she'd been enjoying a vacation of solitude for perhaps too long now. Curiosity quickened her paw-steps until she too found herself at the plateau, now questioning her intentions entirely.

It'd been some time since she'd collaborated with a stranger, but the aged buck was sizable enough to warrant its consideration. Golden eyes gleaming, the she-wolf slipped forward, but stopped a short moment into her approach. The four coyotes off-sides were no longer obscured from her view. Ava gave an irritated flick of her tail, feeling her shoulders tense as she eyed the overgrown mongrels. If this male - whose profile she still had yet to take - wasn't going to provoke a territorial reaction from her these four mutts certainly would. Coyotes were persistent and particularly nasty this high on the mountain, but at least Ava knew she stood a fair chance against them.

She could not stop her tail from raising high though she kept her head level as she shook the shackles from her ankles and stalked forward again. Her dark fur smelled of the cold stone and the poison berries she lived among but it was clear from her focus that she did not intend to threaten the stranger. Ava did little to mask her approach and stopped a respectable distance off from him, pausing to evaluate. He was younger than her but not by too much, and of a similar stature. She could not help but imagine that she'd the ability to hold her own against him as well. Of course, that was not the matter at hand.

Satisfied with her work-up the Second withdrew her stare and looked again upon the scene further on the plateau. The color of her eyes seemed to ignite again, dark lips curling ever so slightly. With a crooked charm laced in her cool tones she probed, "I don't suppose you intend to sit idly by and allow this atrocity, hm?"