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Frost | 4 Years, 6 Months Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Alpha | Pharaoh Hound/Doberman Pinscher Mix
Location: Camp | Mentions: Everyone

A chilly sensation rushed through Frost’s veins as if her very blood were turning to ice. A roaring in her ears blotted out every other sound, and her pale blue gaze was unreadable as it raked over the body sprawled at her paws. The Rottweiler had once been larger than life, one of her strongest dogs and greatest supporters. If he’d been a bit smarter, she might have made him her beta, but alas, Axel had never been the brightest dog around. 'Perhaps why he ended up this way,' she reflected grimly.

His throat was completely shredded, the multitude of ragged lacerations suggesting whoever had done this kept tearing and biting long after Axel’s life faded. It wasn’t just murder; it was overkill. Frost knew few dogs large and powerful enough to pull something like this off. While she might seem the picture of calm to her dogs, inside, she felt great anger and fear warring with one another in an impossible battle, threatening to break her impassive repose. Deciding to lead the dawn patrol herself had been a wise choice it seemed, she doubted the fighters who found him would have kept their cool otherwise.

Between the three of them, they’d managed to drag his corpse back to camp, the burden of his weight leaving them all panting by the time he flopped to the factory floor. The rest of the pack was gathering now, and Frost backed away, turning her back on the grisly scene to compose herself away from prying eyes. Taking in a deep breath, she turned, at last, a sharp bark exiting her maw as she called for silence, hushing the outraged growls and frightened whimpers echoing off the walls.

“My dogs, a grave crime has been committed against us. We must find the creature that did this and repay them in kind. Did any of you see or hear anything strange last night or this morning? Even the smallest detail may be important.”

((Feel free to make something up! If you want a specific clue for your pup to pick up on, you can also pm me.))

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Xander | 3 Years Old | Male | Red Willow Subordinate | Scottish Deerhound
Location: Camp | Mentions: None, Open

Xander’s wake-up call came in the form of distressed murmuring and the sound of clicking claws all around him as if the occupants of his cabin were departing in a rush. A single hazel eye peeked open, an irritable scowl making its way onto his face. What the hell was all the commotion about? Briefly, he made an attempt at drifting back into unconsciousness, but the noise outside was intensifying, and he let out an ill-tempered huff. Lifting himself from the cushioned chair he’d curled across the night before, Xander’s front paws slid to the ground, back arching in a stretch before his hind legs joined the rest of his body on the floor.

In a few quick strides, he padded through the entranceway to stand on the porch. The camp seemed to be in a panic. Shock rippled through him upon spotting Vervain standing beside Thunder, his leader’s form slouched and head tilted toward the fox as they spoke urgently to one another. His irritation quickly subsided. Something was clearly wrong. At the sight of him, Tucker came barreling toward him, the young hound skidding to a halt in front of the porch steps. “Xander, have you seen Oliver!?” He asked desperately, his dark brown gaze despairing.

After confirming he hadn’t with a shake of his narrow head Tucker was off again, asking every dog within earshot if they had seen the pup. Dread twisted his stomach into knots and Xander immediately headed for the cabin where the pups usually slept. It had but one resident, a three-month-old Goldendoodle puppy named Oliver. A dog was assigned to stay with and guard him every night as he didn’t have a mother. Last night had been Tucker’s turn. No wonder he was in such a state. If anything had happened to the youngster, it would all be on him.

Quinn | 3 Years, 2 Months | Female | Fallen Ashes Fighter | Doberman Pinscher Rottweiler Mix
Location: Camp | Mentions: The Pack ; Frost

To say that Quinn was horrified was an understatement. Horrified and livid. But she stood firm, as she always has. Posed for a command, for a fight, cognac eyes glued to the shredded ribbons of flesh, the image of a friend turned into carrion food. The brute she’d come to know had been ripped from life in such a savage manner it had almost made her knees buckle. But they wouldn’t. She refused to show anything beyond the sorrowful gleam of her eyes. Her body would remain strong, in hopes that those who would react more openly saw her as a beacon.

Even as strong as she was, she peered up at Frost, after she was able to tear her eyes from the corpse. From a fellow fighter, dull as he was. She looked up to her Alpha, much as anyone with sense did. Frost was her own beacon, when she didn’t know what to do. She beheld the lead dog with a silvery gaze, lined with confusion and a burning fury. What lump of rat shit would do such a thing? But, a good soldier she was, and listened closely to Frost.

She had been up early, as she was most mornings. She’d grown accustomed to the ungodly patrol times and her body forced her to rise a hour earlier than she was supposed to. She had heard some distant growling and snarls, though she had brushed them off as scavengers fighting over something they deemed worth the trouble, which wasn’t exactly uncommon, so she had brushed it off and went back to stretching out her lengthy legs and yawning like she was trying to devour the rising sun.

With solemn eyes and a voice of guilt, she told Frost just as much. “Just what I assumed to be the normal fights of scavengers. I didn’t think too much of it, I’m sorry.” She dipped her head to the Alpha, eyes darting back to Axel’s throat that lay open, reduced to slivers of flesh. Horrified indeed. But, after a few breaths of silence, she peered back up at Frost. She had been on the patrol, had surveyed the scene while the rest of the fighters had expressed their fury. Quinn had kept it contained, just enough to catch the savage aroma of a fox, had grown familiar with the smell during the clean up period where they had rid the territory of the bodies of masters. “A fox,” she murmured, as if remembering. “The scent of a fox, at the scene. Obviously, it couldn’t have done this, but...” Quinn’s proud posture dipped a bit. She didn’t know what else to offer her leader, so she fell silent.



Akia | 2 Years | Female | Red Willow Subordinate | German Shepherd Mix
Location: Camp | Mentions: Xander

Yelling was not a splendid thing to wake up to. Not when the dog in question could be considered chronically grumpy. And definitely not when the yelling was for a damned pup. Needless to say, it got Akia up quickly, faster than any duty could rouse her. She left the comforts of sleep and the rug she had found and dragged to a spot she liked. Quickly enough, she spotted Xander, a dog who was much more of a grump than herself. Still, she approached, sunlit whiskey eyes darting from a bounding Tucker to the wiry-pelted hound. “Did the dolt actually lose a pup?” Not much of a greeting, though as he seemed to have been awoken by the panicked dog, in the same boat as herself, she was sure he’d at least understand her lack of eloquence.

The wintry colored lass gave her pelt a quick, disgruntled shake. Not enough time to groom it, she guessed, squinting towards the distant bulk of their Guardian and a fox at his paws. Heaving a sigh and fighting off the desire to return to her makeshift bed, she turned to the hound again and stepped away, her bushy tail sweeping with an invitation. “Want to come join me on a lovely early morning adventure? Pretty sure Tucker could use some extra noses.” Without waiting to hear his answer, her nose was already seeking out the scent of the missing pup. She hoped the poor thing wasn’t stupid enough to do stupid things, but that was just unrealistic and foolishly optimistic.

Shemira | 4 Years Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Hunter | Weimaraner
Location: Camp | Mentions: None [OPEN]

Among the outskirts of the camp, watching the proceedings with an indecipherable gaze, Shemira regarded the corpse that laid eerily still at her alpha's paws. The Rottweiler — Axel, if she recalled correctly — built with impressive, rippling muscle meant for a brutal fight, was now sprawled dead with his coat soaked in lifeblood and unseeing eyes conveying none of the zest and diligence that seemed so characteristic of him.

'Who could have done this?' she thought, squinting closer at the corpse, eyes roaming the cooling sack of flesh with a somewhat uneasy, yet practiced gaze.

Her scrutiny turned to the large, gaping hole where his throat had been, jagged slashes and grisly mutilation that could have only been achieved by another canine. It had to have been on purpose, this much damage couldn't possibly have been accidental. (...Right?) Was it a scare tactic? To show that whoever did this could tear them apart as easily as the one who lie dead at Frost's feet? For a moment, a shiver wracked her frame, fear for her own well-being freezing her heart and invading her mind with terror. Would she be the next to die?

Shemira swiftly made a mental list of the dogs that could have committed a gruesome murder like the one before her. Was it a loner, wolfdog, maybe something else? Perhaps it was more than one dog. Who would have the motivation for this? The Red Willow, maybe? It... certainly made a frightening amount of sense.

She needed more information. For now, she would sit back and watch.

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Torak | 5 Years Old | Male | Red Willow Subordinate | Indigenous Himalayan Mastiff
Location: Camp | Mentions: Xander, Akia

Torak awoke suddenly with a gasping snort, jerking his tail out of the doorway and accepting the hurried apology with disoriented grace. Buried under a veritable mountain of assorted rags of blankets, cushions, and the like, the Indigenous Himalayan Mastiff blearily poked his head out of a shoddily constructed miniature fortress. Was it morning already? An almond-shaped eye lazily turned to a nearby window. It seemed so.

Standing up to shake away his drowsiness, he smiled as the sounds of his fellow packmates, both sleeping and awake, greeted him — marking the start to a brand new, productive day. He had always enjoyed mornings for this very reason: a chance to savor his surroundings and relax before embarking on the hustle and bustle of everyday pack life. However, something wasn't quite right. Instead of quiet, murmured 'good morning's' and muted conversation, only the frantic taps of nails against wood and muffled, panicked shouting greeted him.

Worry ignited in his heart. Leaping out of the cabin, Torak assessed his surroundings hurriedly, nose flaring and stance alert. When no immediate danger arose to greet him, he relaxed his posture minutely, though his eyes remained no less vigilant. It hardly took a couple of seconds to realize the issue, however, as an overheard conversation soon filled him in — Oliver, the pup, was missing.

Torak turned to the pup cabin, brushing past frantic subordinates and nuzzling his way through the crowd with an air of concern. With his bulk, this was no easy task, but he managed to get by with skillful maneuvering born from years of practice and a fair number of quick apologies. When he got there, his eyes confirmed what his mind already knew — the youngster was truly gone.

His worried eyes turned towards the crowd. Would there be a patrol to (hopefully) retrieve Oliver? Was the pup even still alive? No, of course he was alive. Torak shook away the traitorously pessimistic thoughts, glancing around camp once more with purpose. He began to plod towards a promising pair of canines, Xander and Akia, stopping only mere feet away with the obvious intent to strike a conversation. Once he was certain he had gathered their attention, he spoke.

“Are you two going to help bring back Oliver? Where do you think he could have wandered off to?”

Frost | 4 Years, 6 Months Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Alpha | Pharaoh Hound/Doberman Pinscher Mix
Location: Camp | Mentions: Everyone

As Wind shifted through the crowd, her panicked words and pacing evoking a higher sense of anxiety among the pack, Frost’s ears fell back against her head and her teeth bared with displeasure. “Get a hold of yourself!” She snapped, her blue gaze harsh. This was no way for a beta to behave. Their dogs looked to her as much as Frost for guidance and strength. If Wind couldn’t handle the situation perhaps she hadn’t been the right choice. Something Frost would reflect on later, as Axel’s murder must take precedence.

Quinn’s revelation she’d heard a commotion and not investigated sent her hackles rising and for a split second Frost looked as if she were about to tear into the other Doberman mix verbally before the mention of fox scent at the scene of the crime caused her to pause. “No it couldn’t have...but perhaps the little savage saw something. We should find it,” Frost concluded thoughtfully, her eyes roaming over Axel’s body. They had nowhere to bury him in the city and little time to spare for a proper burial even if they did. As reluctant as she was to leave a corpse in the middle of the camp, she refused to send her dogs out into the forest without decent back-up. It would simply have to wait.

“Cole, lead a patrol around our territory. If you find any strangers confront them. Take anyone you see fit with you,” she addressed the dark, towering fighter who had entered the factory last, eying him for a moment. It would be a lie to say that she hadn’t been suspicious when he arrived late, but the Dane’s sleek black pelt was unmarked by wounds nor did he carry the scent of Axel’s blood. A struggle like this would not have left the murderer unscathed. “ Polaris and Shemira, you will both come with me back to where Axel was...exterminated. If there are scents to be found I’m sure between the two of you we will find something.”

She seemed to pause for a moment before glancing Quinn’s way. “I suppose you ought to come as well,” she said before heading toward the entrance. “Try to keep things under control while I’m gone Wind,” she added a bit disdainfully.

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Ruby | 1 Year Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Trainee | Pitbull
Location: Camp | Mentions: Cole, Wind

Ruby could hardly contain the trembling wracking her spindly frame, her fear, and distress clear from just a glance. Wide golden eyes were glued to Axel’s body, her ears plastered tight against her broad skull and tail tucked between her hind legs. Wind’s anxious pacing brought a whimper to her throat and she shrank back into the crowd, her rump backing into someone’s legs. She hardly noticed, too consumed with the terrible truth that one of her packmates had been murdered. Axel was one of Fallen Ashes’ best fighters. What could have possibly brought him down like this?

Her tongue swiped across her maw nervously. She hoped she wouldn’t be volunteered to help transport him into the forest beyond their boundaries. Ruby didn’t want to admit the thought of touching his blood-soaked corpse made her want to recoil. She had witnessed death before, but that didn’t make this any easier. She moved to stand beside Cole when Frost assigned him patrol captain for the day, finding some comfort in his presence. “I’d like to come if you don’t mind,” she offered shakily, wanting more than anything to put herself to work.

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Thunder | 6 Years Old | Male | Red Willow Guardian | Tibetan Mastiff
Location: Camp | Mentions: Everyone

As the camp exploded into chaos, Vervain nudged him with a paw and inclined his head toward the panicking dogs, as if reminding him he was the one in charge here. Thunder pushed back a wave of guilt. Learning Oliver was missing had shocked him as much as the other dogs and he hadn’t handled the situation well. Leadership was still new to him and the pack hadn’t experienced such a pressing crisis since the fire. ’Vervain is a fox and he already seems like better leader material than me,’ he thought miserably as he rose to his paws and rushed to stand on the porch of the largest cabin, where he usually held pack meetings.

“Everyone, please calm down! We will get to the bottom of this, but running around like chickens who’ve lost their heads will solve nothing!” Thunder called, barking loud enough to be heard over the rest of the packs distressed howls and whimpers. “It’s true that Oliver is missing, but we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. The pup may have just wandered off,” he added soothingly once the dogs had quieted enough he could be heard without raising his voice. Noting a few dogs were already taking initiative and searching for Oliver’s departing scent, he nodded to them gratefully. “Akia, Torak, Xander; please search the forest surrounding camp for Oliver. Mac, you better stay here, in case...in case either patrol finds him and needs assistance.”

He hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Keep an eye out for Fallen Ashes dogs. Return to camp immediately if you see any, do not engage. I’ve been informed they’ve had an occurrence in their territory as well. They may come here looking for answers,” he warned the patrols, deciding to keep the murder to himself for the time being. There was no need to create further panic. “Same thing if you see anything strange out there. Return to camp immediately for back-up.”

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Xander | 3 Years Old | Male | Red Willow Subordinate | Scottish Deerhound
Location: Camp | Mentions: Akia, Torak

“Seems so,” Xander grunted in reply, the typical frown he wore across his muzzle seeming even grimmer than usual. He sniffed around the cabin’s exterior hoping to catch Oliver’s scent, but the only hint of it he could detect was a stale trail from the previous night. “I suppose we ought to. Someone has to bring that foolhardy imbecile home,” Xander agreed with Akia before Torak made his way over to them. Before he could answer him Thunder called a meeting and seemed to do that for him, assigning the three of them to search the woods together.

“Well, you heard him. I’m not smelling anything here, odd as that is. Range out. See if you can pick up anything around the edge of camp,” he grumbled before moving to do just that, nose to the ground once more. All he could smell was dirt, grass and the innumerous scents of his packmates. “Nothing over here,” he called. “Either of you catch anything yet?” Worst came to worst they would just have to go out into the woods and search every inch of it by sight. A pup couldn’t have gotten all that far on his own. Xander was sure of it.

Ciel | 4 Years Old | Female | Stabyhoun | Fallen Ashes Fighter
Location: Camp | Mentions: Frost, Cole, Ruby

During the time she spent with her previous owner Ciel had witnessed several atrocities - dog fighting dog, limbs mangled beyond recognition, fearful howls as they met their bloody end - but she'd still not been prepared for what her patrol stumbled upon that day. The murder of a packmate hit you differently, Ciel reflected, thinking back on how the usual detachedness she had when surveying a wound shifted into a wave of shock as her gaze moved up from the butchered throat and over to the terror-stricken face of her fellow Fighter. What also disturbed her was the knowledge of the power - the drive - it would have taken to inflict this wound on a dog like Axel.

She'd had the time to come to terms with the gruesome discovery as she helped Frost drag the body into camp, and she now watched in grim silence as her packmates reacted to the sight. She knew many of the dogs would be speculating, but she did her best to keep her head on her shoulders. Unfounded speculations weren't going to help anyone, she needed to stick to what she knew. Which, she soon realised as Frost's inquiry didn't uncover any promising leads, was nothing. The murderer could be almost anyone.

The thought sent chills down Ciel's spine, but she refused to enter a panic-stricken frenzy like their Beta was currently doing, instead choosing to focus on Frost's orders to Cole to organise a patrol. Perfect. She needed a purpose right now, something to occupy herself with so that her mind wouldn't spiral out of control. Hearing Ruby offer to join the patrol, she padded over to stand beside the trainee, brushing pelts with the younger dog momentarily in an attempt to provide some moral support. "I'll join you as well," she said to Cole, her voice clear and steady amongst the chaos surrounding them. She hoped that, if she appeared calm, she could help to soothe the other two dogs.

Quinn | 3 Years, 2 Months | Female | Fallen Ashes Fighter | Doberman Pinscher Rottweiler Mix
Location: Camp | Mentions: Frost, Polaris

Quinn’s sharp eyes were well aware of the stir in Frost, the shift of her hackles and the tongue lashing she was going to receive. She had figured what the lead female was going to get after her for, and a blistering hot burst of shame ran through her, but the mask of sophistication remained stilled. She wouldn’t voice it, no. Actions were stronger, meant more and she was good at them. Though, she was glad she possessed a calm within her, enough to be able to latch onto the fox’s scent. It is what saved her dignity. Today, anyway.

Quinn stood at the ready, keeping her eyes away from the gore that lay at her paws. The only acknowledgement she had given Frost was a flick of her proudly placed ears, though a glance to her eyes would give away a flash of agreement. She watched Frost’s eyes survey Axel’s cold body, and watched the silent churn of her mind. Maybe, she thought, unable to speak up, as to dodge any venom that the female might still have on her tongue, we should bury him before sundown.

Her eyes roamed around as she dug through her mind, trying to weigh her options, where she would be most helpful to the pack. Perhaps she should take a few steel-bellied and able dogs to help her take Axel to be buried, to take a duty off Frost’s shoulders, and to calm the dogs. Out of sight, out of mind. At least, mostly. Enough to get them working. Quinn began to move to gather dogs to get the job done, but Frost’s voice, thrown in her direction, stopped her.

Another burst of shame ran through her at the near-dismissive tone of Frost, though it was nothing like what Wind received. She felt nearly relieved, to have that disdain pointed at someone else. Quinn shrugged it off in no time, her head lifting and her elegant battering ram of a body moved to Frost in a couple of level strides. She’d make herself useful, no matter where she was, no matter what Frost thought of her now. So, whilst waiting to leave, she listened closely to Polaris’ suggestion.

It was possible, and a hope of hers. If one dog had done this, she feared for the pack as a whole. Axel was one hell of a dog, armed with muscle she could only dream of packing on. “If we find the fox, perhaps we could ask them. Those scavengers have eyes everywhere it seems.” She trailed off into a mutter, eyes going from Polaris to some distant thing, willing her cognac eyes to focus on anything but the gore that lay close to them.



Akia | 2 Years | Female | Red Willow Subordinate | German Shepherd Mix
Location: Camp | Mentions: Xander, Torak, Thunder

Akia huffed, annoyed. Her nose, sharp and trained as it was, could only pick up old trails. Too old to be relevant. Akia’s tail flicked in acknowledgement, not wanting to take her senses off the task at paw, in case of a lead. She kept searching diligent and her pace calm. Even she kept her attention elsewhere with the appearance of Torak. As sweet as he was, her only answer was a distracted grunt.

Only when Thunder raised his voice — booming, like his namesake — did she lift her head and shove her ears forth, eyes alight with the need to move, to accomplish. She hoped the little shit was well and simply causing trouble, like all young ones do. Even she had that habit, but she’d never admit it, even if the scars on her rump spoke all the truth anyone needed to hear. Akia, noting the Guardian’s inclined head, offered him a subtle action in return. The Guardian’s words on the opposing pack made her eyes turn sharp. Perhaps they took Oliver, in retaliation for whatever happened at their end. Even if they hadn’t lifted a paw to them in such a way that would warrant a pup to be taken.

Akia nodded, more to herself than to the males around her, and moved in a bouncing trot that screamed of her need to move and continued her search, pink nose pushed to the earth, eyes sparkling with determination. After some time spent canvassing the area she had chosen, that determination hadn’t dwindled, even as she called back to the hound with a solid "Nope." She seemed to pick up everything but the missing pup. The tangle of scents of who had pass this way, and, unfortunately, what they happened to leave. “We should push further into the brush. Maybe the squirt found something to chase after…” She peered over at Torak for the results on his area, not letting herself appear hopeful, allowing only a stoic stillness to settle over her delicate features.