July 19th; Afternoon; Overcast; 59° F/15° C

At this point in time, Angier really should have been back at home, with his remaining two sons, with Elettra... As it stood, he was still stalking about the northern wilds of Relic Lore with his tawny fur all bristled and his temper likened to a short fuse. A cub like Deacon should not have disappeared at all; and, to realize that he could have made it to a destination far away from his home within the Willows was beyond frustrating and infuriating. Surely, considering just how well kept his sons were, someone would have realized that the boy was also well-guarded and well-missed. Whoever had had the nerve to take his eldest boy away was going to pay.

Had the Lyall been any other rank besides Leader, a subordinate or lesser-ranking wolf of Willow Ridge, he might have directly listened to his beloved monarch and superior. Instead, Angier never touched bases with Nina or with Narimé, and headed to the east once he had trekked to the north from his homelands. The way he saw it, if Whisper Caverns and Secret Woodlands were genuine allies, they would have returned Deacon immediately. For neither of their packs to come forward and deliver the youngster back home was a sign. It wordlessly told Angier to search for the most likely path that Deacon and his captor might have taken. Taima and her siblings often branched out in different directions; Skoll and Asriel commonly sought out territories in the south, which were, in turn, often covered by his own patrol routes. He would have known if Deacon had gone that way to begin with..

Through the Orchard, the Willow Ridge patriarch ambled through the fruit-laden trees, relying on both the Old Gods and his instincts to bring him to his son.

The farther Angier traveled the more he became aware of the inquisitive being that peered at him between the chokecherry trees. He did his best to pay no mind. Deacon's retrieval and ensuring that he was safe was much more important than prying eyes or bothersome individuals. He had already wandered to the north - in an aimless manner - and could not afford anymore delay. The sooner he could find his son, the better. But, when a curious question reached out to him, the Lyall only stopped for a brief second before continuing on his way.

"None o' yer bus'ness," he gruffly replied, stomping forward without another word. His bottlebrush of a tail swayed stiffly behind him, the angle of it completely horizontal, making the line from the base of his neck to the end of his tail a neat and straight line that ran parallel to the ground. Angier had just managed to take a good six or seven steps before he turned around. He shrugged to himself, his pale golden eyes addressing the dark figure of a well-built youth who would have vaguely reminded him of his step-sons if it weren't for the lad's medium physique and the gray circles that surrounded the lad's fire-orange eyes.

It seemed he had changed his mind about talking to the younger man as his hackles briefly relaxed. The balmy breeze brushed up against his face and he shook his head briefly from one side to another. "Actually," he heaved a heavy sigh. "I might as well ask... Have ya seen a cub 'round these parts by chance? Looks almost like you, dark brown an' black fur, blue eyes. Though, 'is irises might've started changing though. I'm lookin' for 'im."

Angier had partially expected the yearling to continue on his way, but it seemed fortune had him in its favor. The youth turned around with a frown which didn't faze the Leader in the least. He said that he had not seen the cub the Lyall had just described. Angier's heart sank, but he was grateful to hear that he could spread the word if need be. The Leader remained silent when the other quieted down, but as Bérengère Dunn introduced himself, he felt as though something important had just been revealed to him. Then, there it was:

The pack of Black Thorn Downs.

The Lyall's eyes lit up as he felt inclined to return the sentiment. "Angier Lyall, Leader of Willow Ridge." A small smile should have been reflected back on his tawny face, but in the face of a silently ticking clock and all the time that was being spent in exchanging such crucial information, Angier merely gave a curt nod. "Who d'ya serve under; who are yer Leaders? Are you the only pack 'round these parts 'sides the wolves of the Secret Woodlands?" He had thought to keep the name of the pack secret, but decided against it. "They're allies of ours; they live in the west, in the Thicket." His head lowered slightly, the stare in his eyes hardening as he continued to eye the yearling in anticipation for his reply. To let Beren know that he had others he could count on in these parts of Relic Lore meant that he still held precedence far away from his homelands in Southern Eden.

It might have been a lot to take in, but Angier was rather surprised for boy to counter him. Minka and Tokino. Black Thorn Downs. Good to know... His limbs were starting to become antsy and as he made to move again, to start making his way out from underneath the chokecherry trees, Beren asked him a question, wanting to know about his pack. The Lyall had to stifle his growl but his fur began to bristle upward and outward in reply. "Elettra Archer is the reigning Queen there," his voice rumbled. "Though ya wouldn't dare speak 'er name." He stared at Beren now, wanting to try and gauge just what the yearling would do with such information... tell Minka and Tokino, possibly...

He scowled, "When I'm not sent out to scout for 'er, she 'as spies everywhere an' no one, not e'en 'er own sons would dare defy 'er." A part of him wondered if the yearling would believe him, but he knew for a fact that even if Sköll, the more wayward prince of the Ridge, dared to push his boundaries, even he tried to keep out of Elettra's line of fire if and when. "I need ta get goin' now," he then brusquely stated, turning around and marching towards where he thought was the edge of the Orchard.

Whether or not Beren would follow, Angier didn't care. Wonder, ponder, and pry as he might, the Lyall simply did not have enough time to just stand around and chat. "They say after the first two days, chances of findin' someone, let alone a barely weaned cub, decrease." He stalked forward, his ears facing frontward and his tail level with his spine. "I can't take those chances with my son."

The lad said that he wouldn't even dare to think of speaking Elettra's name. Bah! Yearlings... He might have seen and interacted with a small variety of them, but after having raise three unruly Archers, he was not willing to tolerate them. Especially when Deacon was still out there, possibly crying and calling out for him. He had barely marched past three cherry trees when Beren hollered, "Angier, wait!" The Leader's ears twitched in irritation and he turned around to face the boy with an unmistakably vexed glare. "I promise I won't be much of a bother I just have a few questions sir. Please."

His breath hissed through his teeth as he flashed them in warning, the bridge of his muzzle only momentarily wrinkling once or twice. "WHUT!? Whut d'ya want? I'll 'ready toldja, I'm busy." His tail lashed out at the air behind him and his pale yellow eyes stared daggers into the youth's swarthy face. If he was going to actually give in to Beren's pleas, he was going to make it worth it... "Le' me guess, ya wanna know where Willow Ridge is, yeah? Well, guess what, rookie, CLASSIFIED. I awl-ready told ya what Deacon looked like, so what could ya possibly want to know now?"

He didn't even wait for Beren to try and answer before blabbering on, "Ya wanna know more, you come back 'ere one o' these days and keep walking south while calling fer the wolves o' Willow Ridge. You don't find us. We'll find you." His eyes narrowed then and his tone of voice lowered as his hackles and tail rose. "I'm going to leave now, and if I catch ya following me, I'm gonna make a blanket outta ya so my boy will have a welcome 'ome present. Got it? Now... Get. Lost." His gaze morphed into an intimidating, wide-eyed stare before he turned around and began storming onward on the path he was previously forging through the Orchard.