January 2nd; Late afternoon; Overcast; 9° F/-13° C.

Snow, frost, and ice everywhere but not even a track in sight. Though, Mapplethorpe was quite a reservoir for knowledge, once all his options and tactics in tracking and hunting were exhausted, then the rogue was truly lost... vulnerable to the hunger pangs and every other possible distraction - devices which almost successfully derailed his mind and rendered him blind and stupid. It was nothing short of frustrating. For the past six hours, faint trails caught his interest here and there but the overnight snowstorm did a superb job in covering up any visible trace of the comings and goings of deer, rabbits, and foxes. Bit by bit his feral instincts were returning, driving him to survive. To hunt, to seek, to use his nose and. Stop. Thinking.

His stomach gave an audible gurgle and he paused briefly to mentally scold it. It protested as he forged onward through the frostbitten vines, slowly but steadily navigating his way between the spindly, crooked trees that made up the Ghastly Woods. He thought about stopping to rest, or stand still for a couple of minutes to recoup, but the sudden movement of something dashing by out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. One sniff was all it took -

Sense. React.

All at once the hunter within him rose up. Tunnel vision zeroed in on his target's supposed path. His paws drove him after the fresh trail in long strides. His tail lashed out behind him, holding steady to make his spine and tail bones one long horizontal line. It seemed to happen in an instant, snow flew in all directions, blotches of red stained the forest floor, and Mapplethorpe was sprawled out on the uneven ground with his tail sweeping happily over the ground behind him.

The sinew on the hapless old hare were meager pickings. Even its bones seemed tasteless in comparison to the mice he had had a few days ago. His belly sounded out in satisfaction as he attempted to make a secondary feast out of one of the hare's velveteen ears. Absentmindedly, his body corrected itself, pulling his hind limbs in and straightening his forepaws. If today had the possibility of engaging him in another encounter like his most recent meetings, he would be ready to at least guard his meal instead of surrendering it to the nosy, curious or, goodness forbid, hungry.

A pleased growled vibrated through his being as he made quick work of stomaching most of the leporid's innards. He was about to slurp up what little morsels of muscle remained when a bark caused him to snatch up what was left of the hare, a still-intact spine and skull that had an ear and a majority of its pelt attached. Loose bits of fur fell from the corpse and Mapplethorpe, standing alertly on his thin limbs with his jaws clenched tightly into his catch, turned to lock eyes with a dark-coated man. Judging by how he held himself as he slowly approached, he had wanted something. Centimeter by centimeter, the rogue's body edged and leaned backward, panting as he opted to flee.

The tawny man watched as the stranger came to a stop. Maybe he didn't need to run; but, then again, maybe the rascal of a man meant to talk Mapplethorpe into giving up his meal. His lips drew up just enough to wrinkle the fur and skin on his snout to express his disgust. If it weren't for his choice of words, particularly the pointed "You there," he probably would have made a run for it. His ears swiveled forward immediately in interest in a wordless reply of "You have my attention, so... What?"

The statement that directly followed the hook made him cant his head to one side. His female. Slowly, he placed the broken hare on the ground and his tail twitched in fascination. A cunning smile crept up along his masked features and he flicked his tongue out to graze it over his bloodstained lips. "Which one was she?" he asked, his tone low but riddled with the sudden and apparent desire to wrack his newfound companion's brains. "The one with six allies or the one who thought I needed help?"

"Her name is Naira. Naira Aq-" the stranger's words abruptly cutting out, made Mapplethorpe's brows lift. His short list of Relic Lore acquaintances crossed off Damayanti's name, revealing only one thing: the imminent Queen's name was Naira. Naira A. He allowed the man a moment to string his words together, to think and define just how desperate he wanted answers. "Please. I must find her." A toothy smile broadened along his muzzle.

A silent snicker made his frame tremble with delight. Naira Regina had a counterpart... and a wretched one at that. "Really?" he questioned once he composed himself again. "And why must I do that, My Lord? Have you fallen so far from your throne, so quickly yet too late, as to lose her? Pitiful!" He chuckled again, the airy sound seeming ghostly against the frigid winter air. With utmost caution, he drew close to the tall monarch's right ear, his nose just inches from the black triangle's base.

"She came to meeeee," he whispered, a manic grin still on his lips. "She... wants me." He tilted his head upward in attempt to just touch the man's ear before swiftly drawing away, bracing himself should the air of desperation give way for anger and annoyance.

The cogs began turning and Mapplethorpe's head swelled with delight.Had he succeeded with deluding the young man? The tickled grin met his goldenrod eyes, tense with anticipation. "You will tell me what you know of her," the sovereign instructed. The command did nothing but spur Mapplethorpe to chortle again. The dark king came forward but the rogue did not yield until the invisible fence that kept Mapplethorpe distanced from him was encroached on. Apparently not.

Like a puppet whose strings were cut, his slender body folded and his ears slicked back. The game was over, at least for now. A crazed laugh slipped from his throat as he awaited some form of punishment for lying or withholding such valuable information. Instead, a bribe was issued and instantaneously the masked brute's ears lifted and he briefly looked up to catch the slightest glimpse of the expression on the leader's face. The sentence echoed and reformed in his head, the words - feed you until you can no longer walk - ensnaring his attention. His stomach lurched.

"Yes," he offered, withdrawing his gaze with a rather tame smile. Hunger, his senses moaned as he could feel the rabbit churning in his gut. Food... Protection! Order... Order... A firecracker went off in his head. The linking of Naira and her handful of followers with this man could only point to the building of an empire. An empire rich in resources; a kingdom to thrive in, to relish and... rob. "Yes," he repeated again, looking up into the pair of steely irises. As much as he loathed the idea of serving and answering to superiors, he could not turn away the offer of food. For now the promise held him to the man, a deal of bestowed riches struck and accepted. With the stakes so great, Mapplethorpe had no choice but to reluctantly spare this king of any terrible mayhem he longed to commit - for now. Once he had acquired every and any means he strived for, then all standing decisions were to be called off. Never mind that his life had just been spared a few seconds ago... Everyone dies eventually.

"I met her in the thickets to the west, but she... she pointed to the Mountain."

The sniggers and simpering ceased but the smirk remained, even after his new lead grasped his muzzle. His eyes closed as he felt the teeth clasp around his maw, and as the coal-coated male withdrew, Mapplethorpe allowed his eyes to study his superior's face. His concentration was broken, however, when the hint of another's cologne came and went. He followed the man's gaze and when it seemed he didn't spot anything, he gave a scoff. The pain radiating from his chin and the bridge of his nose started to sting.

As the leader returned his eyes to him, Mapplethorpe watched the inky brow lift up. "We're..." he started, processing the sentence that had just been uttered. "We're going to the mountains?" A crazed laugh fluttered partially from his throat as if the action had been merely been an involuntary tic, "What makes you so sure that we'll be able to find her?"