Setting: March 2nd, sunset - Clear - 16 ° F, -9 ° C 

This is how it was going to end for the woman in white. Alone, a skeleton of her former self ready to disintegrate upon itself with the most delicate of touches. These oppressive thoughts echoed in her skull as the little mass of weight she had left maneuvered over the frozen ground of the lake she some how managed to find after traveling through a path in the mountain she was sure would be her personal tomb. Apparently she was allowed to live one more day, but how much longer could she press her luck in living to see another sunrise? It seemed that over the past five years of her life she was only skating by at the bare minimum and the yarn that made up the rope of life was dwindling down to its final strands. Time was running out. And so was the daylight as her bi-colored eyes focused on the fading shades of blue that blanketed the sky, the beginning of night hot on its tail with shades of dark navy and the first hints of stars beginning to dot the heavens above. Soon the temperature would drop drastically from the lack of heat the light of day offered and anything not tucked safely in the warmth of their den would be left to face the chill of night.

The constant aching of hunger gnawing on her stomach distracted her from that thought momentarily as her paws moved silently within the harsh shadows of the surrounding trees, pine to be exact by their rich 'clean' scent that permeated on the evening air. There was no way she could make a proper hunt attempt to quell her starvation, but if luck was watching over her then perhaps she could find tracks in the snow and follow them to a den of something edible. With the last of her strength available she could dig open the front door and close her jaws around the neck of a family of rabbits. Oh what fine cuisine a simple snowshoe hare had become to the scrawny woman. But the thought of doing the work was enough to exhaust her, limbs shaking in fatigue before giving out and sending her body into the powder beneath with a soft flop. Legs curled in on themselves her head rested without argument as the snow seeped its cold fingers into the thin hairs that lined her maw. This was utterly pathetic and in all honesty Hexamora was ashamed that she had let herself get to this point. Had she not been so prideful and been smart she could have been nice and plump in the den of some pack until winter released its hold on the world and spring came to melt away the snow. Then she could have left never to return to whatever pack she pretended to swear her loyalty to and lived life on a healthier level than the pathetic state she was in now. What good was she now that her body had become so emaciated?  

A low growl rumbled within her throat at herself. No, she wouldn't accept defeat yet. As long as there was still fight in her there was still life. "Get up you lazy bag of bones." she grumbled with a voice so foreign sounding from its lack of proper use in recent days. The Beauvau woman was not one to talk to herself in imaginary conversations while traveling alone. Forcing her slender legs to prop up she fought with all her might to try and rise her form from the slush beneath her. It was a shaky start, but slowly her body lifted inch by inch until she was standing on all fours again with her paws sprawled out like a newborn fawn learning to stand for the first time. Heavily her sides rose and fell in her attempt to catch her breath from the exertion of standing. How crazy that a simple action such as standing now seemed to zap what little energy she had when she use to do it without much thought. She was like a pup all over again. A larger, equally as weak and vulnerable pup. Swinging her head from right to left she scanned the landscape for signs of anyone spectating her pitiful struggle in the shadows. No scent nor sound reached her small rounded ears other than the heavy gasps of her breathing and crunch of snow beneath her pads as she constantly shifted them to hold up her body. So much for wanting to try and find food. Surely if she dared to lift a paw and take a step forward she would only collapse back into the snow, returning to point A after barely reaching point B. Now what would she do?

Try to move. She had to try and move or else she ran the risk of becoming frozen in place and then she would have a ton of fun trying to stand up after her knees buckled then. There would be no strength to use and with the coming of night her body would be as good as kibble to whatever predator happened to prowl by and decide to make a quick snack out of her remaining slabs of meat. Frustration welled up inside as she forced her paws to listen to her commands and shift forward. At first they listened but then her strength began to wane again, making it near impossible to take more than a handful of steps. Tilting her head up to the sky that now held more tiny dots of light where the stars belonged a howl erupted from her throat singing of her frustration and despair while also hoping it would reach the ears of someone near by and either come to her rescue or put the final words in the book of Hexamora. Her fate hung in the balance as mismatched eyes lowered back to the earth, rump thumping into the slush of her meager progress. She couldn't hold her body weight anymore and it felt so good to only hold her upper body up. And much easier as well. Sit. This. This she could do for awhile while waiting for someone to come across her ivory self.

"Speech."

All the ivory woman could do now was wait. Her song had echoed her desperation across the surrounding land and now all hope laid in the idea that somehow, somewhere a wolf that could offer her help had heard her mournful song and came to rescue her. Or put her out of her misery, whichever fate came knocking she didn't care as long as someone came. The sound of crunching snow beneath four paws and the rustle of shrubs graced her ears first being the sharpest sense still despite he diminishing condition before the scent of a wolf reached her dull olfactory senses. A small whiff told her the basic of the now discovered man who had come to her aid. He was older in years around three or so that made him young still but she was still thankful for it. A yearling saving her again would just make her want to commit right there on the spot. His pine and musty aroma revealed that not only was he young but also was adorned with the individual scent of others. Around four or so by what she could tell. Had she managed to wander into pack territory by accident and now grabbed the attention of a pack wolf or worse the leader himself? Crap on a stick.  

Shortly after her first two senses caught wind of the approaching wolf her bi-colored eyes soon joined in, settling upon a pelt filled with an array of reds, creams and blacks. The mystery man standing before her stood regally in the snow, washing away any doubt she had that this was a pack wolf. Nope, it was the leader himself. Even she couldn't dismiss the way his chest puffed out with his shoulders rolled back proudly and the banner held high over the arch of his back while a pair of eyes as gold as morning sun scrutinized her pathetic state. Hexamora could feel his gaze raking over her frame, taking in the points along her body where bones could be seen protruding just beneath the thin flab of skin. You might want to submit to this wanna-be-king. her inner voice mocked. Even though she was basically broken on the outside her mind on the inside remained the spiteful beast who held no respect for those who thought they had power over anyone, over her. But that didn't stop her from temporarily playing the good wolf card to appease them. If it got her what she wanted then she would do it. Like now where showing submissive behavior would keep her on the brute's good side. "I'd offer my submission if I didn't fear I would't have the strength to stand up again." A weak, forced smile slowly found its way to her lips while the orbs of her eyes came to fall upon the broadness of his chest. She may not be belly up for him, but she could still advert her gaze. Hopefully it spared her a set of teeth to her dull pelt.

"Speech."

Much to Hexamora's relief the once harsh gaze over her repulsive frame had lightened, allowing her to relax only a fraction within the man's presence. She knew she must look like a mess. Barely a hint of life left behind the irises of her eyes. A brief shiver ran through her forelegs, foreshadowing the depleting strength that her body just couldn't create for much longer. This little conversation needed to speed up and it was near impossible to miss the impatience that coursed through her body. With hardly enough willpower to sit there was hardly any to keep her many masked emotions and disguises under composure. Basically she was like an open book now.

The sound of his throat clearing forced her head to lift slightly, unaware that it had actually dropped a few centimeters from its previous placement. Brown and green pools returned to focusing on his chest while the small rounded ears that lay on top of her head pricked forward to catch the words as they tumbled out of his mouth. A question to be exact. Who was she and why was she there. The typical question all those wolves who held even the slightest bit of power asked. But Hexamora was a nobody in all honesty. There was no outlandish history or meaning to her name. Unless you got a kick out of her being dubbed the official pack psychopath which in the end only got her kicked out. She had no reason to her life, nothing to help her get through this hell hole known as life. Simply she went wherever her paws led and remained an anonymous figure to those around her. Nobody truly knew who she was and some may think they did just because they knew her name. A name was nothing but a string of letters. It was worth the same as dirt. Nothing.

Clearing her own throat the dainty paws that held her meager body weight up shifted briefly to keep her from slouching, the fibers of her muscles screaming in their faint burning pain to be relieved of the pressure. "I go by Primrose and I've come to seek safety. I know I may look pathetic now, but I swear my loyalty and skills to you if you would have me." The secret alias name fell smoothly from her lips. If it was possible for the woman to cross her toes as she spoke she would have. Hexamora never swore loyalty to anyone but herself. In the end it was only her she cared about. In truth the male before her sickened her to the core. Lost in his fantasy world that he was so high and mighty sitting at the tippy top of the hierarchy. This was only a temporary chapter in her book. Once she recovered without a word she would be slipping out the back door never to return. But of course in the mean time she would play the diligent pack member and do her bare minimum as required in order to stay. Pack life was not something she could do forever.

   

"Speech."

What was this, learn everything you can about Hexamora day or something? Not even a solid minute after her answer to the first onslaught of questions did the agouti man rush her with another set to answer. First he had learned her reasoning for coming to his borders, which was actually kinda unintentional after giving chase to some dimwitted wolf by the name of Samhain for some fun. The fun was short lived as she lost her trail in the snowbanks and followed a random pair of tracks she found in the snow to here. Surprisingly they actually did belong to the fleabag who waited behind the borders that she would hopefully soon be crossing over. What fun that would be to see her face again and insinuate the look of fear upon her dull features. Dear little Haine, your wraith of a friend is coming for you..

To answer the man and his bombarding questions she remained silent, brooding within her mind the specific set of skills she could whip up on the spot together to offer him so he would be pleased. It was sickening that she was having to appease his dominance, but her life was starting to weigh more than her pride on being the anarchist of sorts. Down with the power or down with her life? Yeah, life was looking like the better option for now. Hell, once she was healthy again she could even make plans to tear him down from the inside out. Topple his empire to the ground one rung of power at a time. You start small and work yourself up. One day the pack would either fall by her paws or she would be the one to settle at the top. But of course this was all options to think about over time. There was no way she could accomplish such a feat by herself nor overnight.

After a substantial amount of silence flowed between the dark and light colored wolves, Primerose finally found the words to answer his question in a favorable manor. "I can offer skills in hunting, assassination if need be and guardian despite my smaller size. I can prove these skills and my loyalty to you if only you would be willing to accept me. Once I recover from my current state I can begin to prove my worth." Hogwash. A whole ton of fox shit. She didn't have any experience in the skills mentioned although she did like to pretend she had what it took to be an assassin. Killing was a sick thrill of hers that got her off in an equally sick way. Tasting the blood of an enemy never tasted sweeter that by her own doing.

Relief swept over Hexamora's features as the lead male seemed to buy her lies and from what she could tell may have actually accepted her before issuing a warning that if she didn't pull her weight it would be his teeth clamping for the back of her heels in a serious tone. That was read loud and clear and her pearly white head gave a subtle nod in understanding. Shortly after his long speech his body turned and headed for the shoreline, a confused looked settling now on her features until his words reached her tiny ears. Was he leading her to food? Well if he was that would mean she would have to get up. Uneasiness washed over her then as that reality sunk in. Trying to stand last time had been all but a completely, embarrassing fail. Could she even manage to stand let alone walk to wherever it was he was leading her to now? There was only one way to truly find out. She had to try.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to focus while his back was turned it was slow going as she attempted to slowly rise her rear from the frozen earth. Little by little it managed to lift until she was on all fours again, shaky, but standing. Another deep breath was inhaled then exhaled slowly as one paw shifted forward then the next. The pace she was capable of walking was like a snail in comparison to that of the agouti man, but it was doable. At least she was able to walk still and that melted away the fear that nestled inside her stomach that she was too far gone to be saved anymore. Following in the steps he had already taken to make her own going easier, Hexamora came upon his left side with two toned eyes focusing on the swimming forms of silver in a shallow pool of water that was unable to freeze over from the constant movement of the liquid. Was this the food he had vaguely hinted at? Upon looking at the fleeting figures her stomach gave a mighty roar with demands to be fed. God they looked so delicious. Saliva beginning to cascade down her jowls when the pink of her tongue poked out between the ebony lining of her lips.

Without a second thought to her actions her head quickly dipped down to dive half muzzle deep into the water to snag a fish by its tail. Had the water been any deeper the feat would have been impossible, but luck was on her side today. A wince wrinkled up her muzzle from the sting of the freezing water upon her skin and forced her head to pull back quickly, fish squirming and flailing between her canines in a fit to escape her grasp. No such luck. Placing the wiggling thing on the ground and using her paw to hold it steady by the base of its head her teeth sunk hungrily into its awaiting scale ridden flesh. The amount of meat was meager, but it was still something that her stomach gobbled up without much disagreement. At this point anything edible was good enough for her.

"Speech."