Rounding the top of a crest in the Blackberry Fields, Lugh surveyed the expansive field of white before him. He'd been searching all morning, yet still came up empty pawed. The whipping winds and blinding snows had long since died down, but  Kova and Noble had yet to return. The weeks that had passed since the cubs' disappearance had steadily worn down the herbalist's optimism, leaving behind an uncomfortable, unfamiliar sense of dread.

Lugh found his eyes drifting westward, towards the tangled forest of the thicket. He usually gave the place a wide berth, knowing the Woodlands wolves to be not particularly friendly. It seemed like a beehive best left un-poked. However… What if they cubs had gone that way? Any tracks within the fields had been long since buried, but perhaps the protection of the woods might have preserved some evidence. A determined look taking his bright yellow eyes, Lugh set off.

Lugh was hesitant as he neared the edge of the Thicket, nostrils flaring to catch the scent of Solomon’s seal and unfamiliar wolves. He would just have to call and hope someone could tell him if they had seen… Wait! What was that?

Right there, a set of small paw-prints in the snow, just about the right size for a cub going on yearling. He didn’t consider himself much of a sleuth, but there were even black little hairs sticking out of the snow. It must be Noble! Who else could it be? Not bothering to check the scent, he was bounding after the tracks, blowing clear past the borders of the Woodlands, intent on finding the cubs.

The Zamora had been doing one last border patrol round before allowing himself to go return to wherever Nova may be. Though before he could finish his round something, no, someone caught his attention. The didn't smell anything of Secret Woodlands. A very bad sign. Especially since Camio wasn't in a rather good mood at the moment. Although the wicked side slipped out and he decided to have a bit of fun. He wouldn't chase this one off just yet.

Prowling forward he stalked the small male like he was merely prey. Closing in on the male with each long stride Camio growled out deeply. Pulling his lip above his teeth, his tongue briefly flicking out in warning. "You must have lost something worth dying for to cross over our borders." Flicking his tail behind him Camio raised it slightly. His hackles raising with his tail. Either this male was purely stupid or he truly did have something worth dying for over in Secret Woodlands. Last time he check though, nothing and no one had gotten lost in Secret Woodlands for some stranger, a pack wolf, to come so suddenly prancing into and through their borders.

Another low deep growl came rumbling out from his chest. "Please do share what it is you are looking for." Baring his teeth at the stranger Camio wasn't willing to take any bullshit from this male. "And it better be damn good or your pelt will be lining our den..I promise that." It was no lie that Camio was willing to skin this male. His pelt was surely small enough for the cubs to make use of, even though they were almost yearlings at this point.

"Speech."

Lugh frantically chased the trail of pawprints, convinced that they would lead him to the wayward cubs. His excitement was overwhelming, his focus solely devoted to the task. A barrage of strange scents hit his senses, leaving him blind to the wolf that trailed him.

A deep growl finally broke his concentration. Noticing the menace in the tone, he dug all four paws into the snow and skidded to a stop. Winded from sprinting, the Whelan wheezed. Instantly, his tail tucked and curled up beneath his belly, ears pinned back flat against his head. He was no sneaking rogue. What better reason could there be than looking for lost children? Even with the packs' disagreements, surely, they would understand!

"Please, yer must understan', this is important! Th' cubs, I've seen their tracks, they're 'ere! Kova an' Noble!" Lugh yipped anxiously, trying to be pleading with the man to understand his cause.

Out the corner of his eye he spotted a flash of light tawny fur, nothing more than a blur leaving him no time to react. A yelp forced its way from his voicebox on the impact. The lightweight herbalist felt his paws leave the ground, spindly legs clambering as claws reached for traction. He managed to stand, keeping his body ducked low and nearly curled into a ball. He had only a moment to gain his senses before the woman shrieked like a banshee, already rounding back for a second strike. He wasn't here for a fight, and he didn't want to hurt her. This was all just a misunderstanding, but it seemed they didn't want to hear any of it.

"Waitwaitwaitstopstopstop!" He yelled as Iopah reached towards his haunch, teeth pinching into the skin over his thigh despite his best efforts to pull away quickly. His neck and spine arched to face her, his narrow jaws clacked towards her face, only trying to get her to let go of him rather than do any actual damage.

Iopah showed up quicker than Camio could stifle out another harsh reply. Watching for a moment he flicked his tail as a wicked smile was quick to emerge upon his face. Then the order was given. Iopah's harsh voice came out and Camio took charge. An open leg was available to take from the male and Camio would take it. Running up against the hind left leg Camio craned his neck to launch down on the stifle of Lugh's leg. His teeth would find flesh, maybe his teeth would break flesh or even worse crack something, of course these thoughts were overwhelming. When his teeth had given enough pressure onto the male's leg the Zamora decided to pull away.

Stumbling back for safety Camio's eyes glanced over to Iopah. To see how much damage she had or would cause. This was exciting and a rough mixture of a howl and bark broke out. Certainly a chant to cheer on Iopah and scare the male. When the two Woodland wolves were done with him the male would either be dead or on the brink of death. Or at the very least he would be finding the trek home to be very harsh and painful. A wicked smirk curled up to find home on Camio's lips. He did enjoy this moment so very much. Enough to a point where he found himself wanting to jump in again. Although he thought it may be best to let his pack mate get another good swing too before trying to take another blow on the male.

Wild eyes blocked out the mind of a well mannered man. In fact Camio was becoming the monster he feared. In the moment though it felt right. He wanted to taste the flesh and blood of the other. Things would not go well for their little visitor.

"Speech."

Lugh's pleas had fallen on deaf ears. None of it mattered to them, it was as if he'd said nothing at all. In the back of his mind he worried about the missing cubs, but it was a fleeting thought quickly replaced by more urgent matters. There was little room left for pondering, only survival instinct. Lugh typically thought well of others, usually affording them the best intentions, but here those ideals vanished. He could hear it in their snarls, see it deep in their eyes; they meant him harm. His teeth continued to clash towards Iopah, but nothing he did could get her to let go. His movements became more panicked, and any hesitancy he had about hurting them had vanished. He would do anything to escape.

As the female tore into his thigh, Lugh could see smears of red -- his own blood -- dribbling out of his leg, smeared across the she-wolf's muzzle. His head felt light and his ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton as sounds became distant. His vision tunneled in to a pinpoint, but he fought to stay conscious. Deep down, he knew if he fainted here, they would make sure he never woke.

Lugh had all but forgotten the male, and was all too harshly reminded of his presence as the brute shoved in towards him. A searing pain like none other burned through his knee; fur, skin, and muscle cleaved through by the Camio's sharp teeth. Somewhere, sounding distant and muffled, he could hear a high pitched, wavering wailing-- Was that his own voice?

The russet male had released his hold, and before Lugh could even think of what to do, the healer lunged forward. He needed to run, escape, but his hind leg began to buckle under his weight and he staggered as he fought to regain his balance on the other three. A dull ache remained in his leg, sensation buried beneath coursing endorphins, but Lugh could tell there was something terribly wrong with it.

Lugh began to quickly shuffle forward, his hind left paw dragging pathetically in the snow, when he felt teeth sink in to his back. Unable to support the sudden burden, his hindquarters crumpled crookedly, leaving him in an awkward half-sitting position. Broken, but still frantic, he desperately continued to snap his plant-yellowed fangs towards Iopah, forelegs digging into the snow as he tried to drag himself in closer for a strike.