She moved with a graceful stride that had only been accumulated as she aged – the clumsiness in her youth had placed her in danger far too many times than she would like to count, and so as she aged and matured, the tawny female had grown to be more careful in her steps. Now, her motion was fluid, her paws sure as they carried her outside of pack lands and away from the emptiness that was Oak Tree Bend.. an emptiness brought only by Ice’s leave. Of course, the pack could only hope he would return with Cali, but winter was fast approaching, and she was uncertain they would see the three before the snows began to cover the ground.


For now, the land was beginning to change hues for such a season. The leaves were slowly drifting to iridescent reds and golds – though most trees still held firm to their canopy of peridot. She cared little for the change of season.. scenery meant little to her, but it would be a lie to say she was not slightly intrigued by how the autumn would appear on this side of the mountain. Even at such a young age, she could fully envision what Swift River would look like now.. and she felt a pang in her heart for her old home, despite its treachery.


As she moved, another scent came to her. The male appeared before her so abruptly, the golden she-wolf barely had time to skid before almost slamming in to his shoulder, and recoiling as if she had, she back peddled swiftly, looking to place distance between them as her ears slid back to her crown. Untrusting of anyone, her eyes shot out to him, studying him carefully as she quietly berated herself for allowing her guard to fall in such a manner. “Sorry,” she finally mumbled, her tail giving a quick flick of uncertainty.

The male before her was extremely large – the dark of his pelt contrasting greatly to the pale tawny of her own, while his eyes remained a fiery orange.. her own a soft green. This took only moments worth of study, and as her gaze flickered over him his eyes met hers, a growl releasing from his jowls.


Despite his commanding stature and engulfing her own form completely in size, the spitfire curled her own lips back, a challenging snarl escaping past her tainted lips as her hackles bristled, her figure backing another pace as her eyes flashed. Kisla Tainn was many things, but a pushover was not one of them – logic fled as she stood firmly before the male, a flashing memory of Marsh’s outraged form fogging her mind as she recalled the feisty she-wolf who had once tried to kill her upon pack borders. If this rogue wanted a fight, he would certainly receive one.


Instead, he apologized – the words slipped past smooth talking jaws, and the she-wolf bristled in annoyance to his sudden change in reaction. Distrust wound itself throughout her, and she stared at him stoically, her ears cupping forward as she listened to his question, followed by an introduction.


She allowed the silence to stretch between them, her gaze cold before she finally answered. “These specific lands are not claimed, no,” she offered in the end, though did not return her own name, nor divulged the information of her precious pack and family. She trusted him as far as she could throw him.

"Perhaps you should teach the little darling a thing or two... She's awfully pretty, but awfully blind, makes me want to do things to her..." She could still see herself – the borders of Swift River so friendly, and yet the presence she was with so dark. The she-wolf’s brown eyes had looked down to her with a burning insanity that Kisla still could not understand, and she felt an involuntary shudder course through her spine – the tickle of the stranger’s whiskers against her face, the sickly breath that unfurled toward her nose as the woman so passively discussed her intention to slaughter her…


The male backed away a pace – such a small action that caused the girl’s muscles to relax slightly, only then did she realize she was holding her breath as she came back to focus. Those haunting brown eyes were gone, replaced now with a fiery orange that seemed to almost hold confusion. Slightly relieved that he had placed distance between them now, she felt her tongue smooth across her lips before they pursed together, her stance unmoving as the stranger regarded her.


His question stirred her from whatever reverie held her – contemplation of turning tail and going home was heavy in her mind, and yet weakness had certainly not given her any favors in the past. “No,” she answered finally, her tail giving an idle flick. Kisla Tainn – forever a closed book to those she did not trust.. and those she did trust were becoming fewer and fewer as the moons passed. “Relic Lore is large though.”

He made no true response to her answer – she could only assume how difficult it would be to find another in an unknown land, and yet, she did not know the story of the other. Perhaps he had only misplaced his brother just a few months ago.. ‘a long time’ likely held many different meanings to any individual. Still, the bit of information was now logged to her mind, and she regarded him more thoughtfully than before. Aeolus Argyris, brother to a Phineas Argyris. The name was interesting, but she did not question if it held meaning. After all, she could not tell anyone what her own meant, for she had never been told.


He questioned her name and drew her from her light reverie. Glancing over him sharply, she paused as she debated on an answer to give him – Oak Tree Bend was so tenderly new on this side of the mountain she was unsure of who their enemies were.. or their friends. “Kisla Tainn,” she finally answered, giving a light nod of her muzzle – perhaps the first friendly gesture she offered to the male since their literal run in. There was another small pause, the awkwardness of the entire situation stretching between the two before she relaxed slightly, attempting to put aside her suspicion and allow a friendlier version to shine through.. if only to gain insight of Oak Tree Bend’s potential neighbours. “I assume you’re new here, Aeolus Agryris?” She allowed the name to roll from her tongue, if only to reveal that she had taken in his words previously.

He affirmed her assumption, and she made no response to this. She herself was fairly new to this side of the mountain, and while she could have offered this, she held back. He did not need to know anything about her or her family, and she did not care to divulge more information than needed. Oak Tree Bend had seen more than enough heartache, but it was theirs to guard.


Simple pleasantries were aside – if that’s what you could call them – and the male wasted no time in bidding her goodbye. Her harsh greeting was likely the cause of this, and yet the tawny she-wolf could not muster up regret for her defensive reaction. He was a simple stranger, a passerbyer who wouldn’t even call Relic Lore his home, much like many she had come to meet in the past.


Kisla responded simply with a dip of her pale tipped muzzle and a flick of her tail. As the grey and cinnamon turned to leave, she remained rooted to the spot, her peridot eyes following him. Relief swept past her then, and once the male was out of sight, a gentle chuff escaped her muzzle before she gave a quick shake of her pelt, putting aside the strange interlude.


With no further thought to the Argyris man, the Tainn female began to lope back towards home, her eyes scouring the crimson hills with mild interest. There would be another day for exploration of this area.. but for now, she desired no more than to seek out her younger brothers and partake in games with them.. or even find Fenru and do a patrol.