F E N R I R
Male | 1 year 6 months | Alsatian Shepalute Wolf Mix (65/35) | Lord Commander of Blackback Guard
Location: Blackback Guards Camp
Mentions: Skera [directly] Ragnar, Odin [Indirectly] (Open for Interaction)

Fenrir hummed as he finally reached Skera before taking a seat beside her. "Most likely. He would probably take the finest with him as well." Fenrir said as he returned the nod, always a firm believer in the "respect you elders" saying. "My guess is that Ragnar would take a frontal assault. If this is the case then I believe our best course of action would to have our two groups head in from the sides. The court would hopefully be focused on Ragnar's assault on their main entrance so my group could either head in from the south or west whilst yours can take which ever I dont get. On the other paw however we could split bot of our groups into two and have the combined group hit the back of the castle whilst the half groups draw attention to both the east and west sides of the castle. this is all just and theory though. we dont know how security in the castle currently is so one side could be more heavily guarded then the rest. so one of the split up groups could easily become a mass of casualty's." Fenrir said as he drew his plan in the dirt bellow him, using a box to resemble the castle and circles to show a full group with half circles as an half group. Small arrows showed the line of action. "The main question here is, "is it worth the risk?" Fenrir said as he glanced towards the female.

R A N A
female | 2 yrs. 9 m. | Highvalley Court ~ Provider | Border Collie mix
Location: >Highvalley Court Clearing | Mentions: Odin, Jukka, Derrien [directly]

Sunlight gleamed over a golden and white pelt as a slender female as she gingerly carried the carcass of an young white goat further into the clearing of camp. It had been a chance find and kill, and one she was extremely proud of. One moment of separation from the herd, a hidden menace among the grass. It wasn't very large, maybe twenty or so pounds, but Rana held it low, her neck straining after the long trek back.

The young provider had awoken early that morning in a cold fever and anxiety sent her off a long hunt, tracking and awaiting the moment one of the baby goats to trail too far from their mother. It took a while, but she was very patient when it came to providing for her pack. Especially in times like this. The thought of the terrorizing wolf-dogs sent a shiver down her spine, and farther in camp now, she gently lay her kill across the springy grass and damp dirt. Her king, Odin, were being approached by two dogs- or maybe they were simply crossing paths?- and she found herself watching the greeting curiously.

The time for war was near, it was nearly palpable on the air, and even the provider couldn't deny that when the time came... even she would have to step up and fight for her new home. These dogs she hardly knew... her ears folded against her head and she clenched her teeth before grabbing her kill once more and approaching the King, Lord Duke, and another provider she noted was Derrien.

"My King," she dipped her head, respectfully avoiding his eyes for a moment. "Lord Duke," she greeted him less formally, though no less respectfully, with a wag of her tail. "Hello Derrien. We're to bring the most recent kills into the back of the dens, yes?" Avoiding the topic of the other pack and the imminent war, she glanced between the trio of males, awaiting a response.

R A G N A R
Male | 4 Years Old | Grey Wolf x Irish Wolfhound x Sable Shepherd | Jarl of Blackback Guard
Mentions: Fenrir, Skera, Rahla, Salem, Drift
Ragnar watched from above as the looks of anticipation faded from his dog's eyes and were replaced with ones of shock and uncertainty. As much as his declaration of allowing a female to take the lead irked him, he didn't have much of a choice. His male roster was limited, since the rise of female births within his pack had grown and a good majority of his males were growing withered with age. The thoughts made his mind wander to his last born, and his unenthused expression landed squarely on Rahla. Her birth had been disappointing, not so much in the prospect of having his blood solidify his pack, but alone in the fact that she was female. He needed a strong, capable heir to follow in his steps to the throne; not another measly scavenger he'd have to protect. Ragnar was old-fashioned in his traditions, and he believed females had a very particular set of conventions to follow. Though Skera would be lucky enough to live out her days as a warrior, the leader could never see himself honouring his daughter with the same responsibility. Eyes like knives settled into his skin and he glanced over just as Salem tucked her haunches beneath her and sat by his side. Despite his discrimination, the Voodoo Queen did not suffer the same prejudice as the rest. She was sacred, holy in his opinion, and she was not to even be glanced at in a poor way. "M'Lady." He greeted her calmly, an ear twisting around to pick up the soft edge of her voice. His brow lifted ever so slightly in response, but he gave a single nod in return at her words. "If you wish."

As Ragnar's gaze tore away from the female and surveyed the crowd, the leisurely activity caused his jaws tense instinctually. "Assemble your soldiers!" He snapped impatiently, eyeing his Lord Commander and the female he had decided he'd put a little too much faith in. "I suggest you organize yourselves before you chit-chat about my strategies. I'll be bringing Vansi and Corax alongside me. Divide the Executioners - and Scavengers - as you wish, but ensure everything is balanced." Too consumed with his thoughts, Ragnar did not care to notice Rahla's approach. He marched by her completely. Surveying what consisted of his hunters, the wolfdog's pupils settled on his options. Out of what was offered, he realized he was moreso comfortable with the idea of either Drift or Lucifer accompanying him. "Drift." He called flatly, his deep voice coming out as a lackadaisical drawl. "You'll be coming with me, so don't let your feet wander."

He turned away, once more allowing his feet to take him to Salem. He nodded to her respectfully, before finding his place beside her and clearing his throat. "My ears are yours." He rumbled firmly, though his ever-watching gaze did not stray away from his pack. "You wanted to discuss... Saba. What is on your mind? Have you envisioned something?" The former Blackback's name did not exit his mouth correctly, mispronouncing the female's title with little care.

N O R T H
Male | 4 Years, 6 Months Old | Grey Wolf x Beauceron | Slayer of Blackback Guard
Mentions: Ragnar, Fenrir, Skera, Lucifer
North held still as he watched Ragnar saunter down from his perch on the hill and snap his teeth at Fenrir and Skera like a viper, his eyes callous. He briefly wondered how canines of the Highvalley would come to react to such vehement aggression, especially during a time where political discussions would come into play over the annexation. He knew the Jarl well enough to know he didn't think it was appropriate to fight war with words; tooth and claw were much more effective. Allowing the wolfdog's tarnished voice to dissolve into the background, he concentrated at the task of hand; ensuring he found a place with one of the other leaders. Getting to his paws, he noticed Lucifer staring at the leader, and then to Skera, almost hungrily. He huffed a little to himself, partially in amusement. North may not be well associated with his pack, particularly scavengers, but he wasn't ignorant enough to ignore the fact that Lucifer was a passionate fighter with a craving for war. He halted slightly as he came up beside her. "I would suggest finding your allegiance with Fenrir." The scarred up black brute spoke slowly, his muzzle pointing towards the shaggy-coated Commander. "Skera will have a difficult enough time proving herself as it is. A report from her may not benefit you, but if you travel alongside Fenrir and he reports to Ragnar that you've done well.." Silence fell between them briefly, before he glanced back at her with a slight curved grin to his jaw. "Then perhaps the old heathen will respect you enough to give you a shot at slaying." Glancing back at Skera and Fenrir, he instinctually felt the urge to offer himself to the Lord Commander's patrol. Yet, he was hesitant, his eyes lingering on Skera. He was curious, somehow- he wanted to see what she was capable of.

J U K K A
Male | 3 Years Old | Chinook x Swedish Elkhound | Lord Duke of Highvalley Court
Mentions: Odin, Darrien, Rana
Absorbed in a flurry of fretful thoughts, it wasn't surprising that the red-furred male became easily alarmed at Darrien's approach. He jumped up a little, eyeing Darrien through narrowed, anxious eyes, before recognizing the Provider with the shaggy hide. How professional of you. He silently scorned himself, clearing his throat as he responded to him with a deep nod. "Good morning, Darrien. My apologies." He said a bit awkwardly, a thick stone-faced mask now enveloping his features. "Just lost in my morning thoughts. Is everything well with you?" Forcing his concerns to the back of his head, Jukka just settled in on focusing on Darrien before a familiar sensation pricked at him, causing the fur along his spine to gently stiffen. Naturally his sense of etiquette kicked in and he rose to all fours, his pale green eyes landing square on the King's face rather than staring him directly in the eye. It was a bit of tangle of feelings for him, really, after such a relationship they had come to share in the past, but Jukka pushed anything personal to the side and remained strictly formal. "Lord King Odin, Good Morning to you." He spoke firmly, stretching out a forepaw before allowing himself to tuck down in a gracious bow. "You slept well, I hope?" It's fair to say I surely did not. His eyes did not leave the King's face until another dog approached, this time a dainty collie he had come to know as Rana. She was a kind little thing, really, but also known for being rather.. eccentric. He nodded to her politely. "That would be correct. The oldest prey items should be devoured first before they expire, so the newest items should be stored out of the way." He glanced away, his eyes landing on Odin's form. He needed to speak with him, or at least get an idea of what Odin was thinking with those barbarians approaching. "Perhaps you two should gather up a few other dogs and see if you can gather any more food, just along the kingdom edge. We need all that we can get."

S A B A
Female | 2 Years, 3 Months Old | Borzoi x Golden Retriever x European Wolf | Omega Prisoner of Highvalley Court
Mentions: Faline, Mimicry
A pitiful stream of morning light filtered it's way down the steps, but not far enough to stretch through her den and touch her. She let out a light huff of air as she curled up more tightly, deciding she had enough of her thoughts and would take up time by falling into a slumber. As soon as the soft fur of her lower jaw touched her forepaws, the slight line of light flickered. It flickered once more, and with it, the gentle patter of paw steps. The thin female immediately flicked her head upwards, the entirety of her body tensing up and her fur fluffing up uneasily. The nature of her upbringing inwardly told her to bare her teeth and let out a fearsome snarl exit her throat, but not a sound left her jaws. Instead, she backed up until her tail touched the cold rock wall behind her, staring out with big chestnut eyes. She expected a Knight, or perhaps even Odin to waltz his way down here, finally reveal what it was he planned on doing with her. Instead, a feminine set of eyes blinked at her from across the dungeon, gentle and curious rather than harsh and malicious. "Hello." Came the hesitant greeting, but Saba still eyed her warily. She was much less imposing than the rest who had come down here, and she wasn't trying to barge into her den with outstretched claws, but that didn't make Saba not trust her any less. Narrowing her eyes, ducked down a little, but paced a forelimb forward to step in her direction. Her jaws parted, promising the prospect of speech, and then-

Loud incessant mumbling bounced off the walls, echoing painfully into her ears and causing her to jump back in alarm. A tall, thin female came into view but this one was much more boisterous and.. odd, in comparison to the first female. She wrinkled her nose angrily, suddenly wondering if they were a duo of berserkers who wanted to use her as some sort of fighting bait. Stay away from me. She warned silently, but fear was clear in the depths of her eyes. She just wanted them to leave.

F A L I N E
Female I 3 Years I Chinook Mix I High Priestess of Highvalley Court
Mentions: Saba, Mimicry [Directly], Odin [Indirectly]

Faline pricked her ears when the prisoner stepped forward, happy that she had decided to speak to her, when suddenly she heard the voice of another dog. She quickly turned to see who was there, half expecting one of the higher ranked dogs to be there. Even though she didn't think she was doing anything wrong, she didn't know how this situation would look to others; the High Priestess speaking to a prisoner. So when she saw that it was only Mimicry, the Omega, she had to stop herself from letting out a sigh of relief. She bristled at her question, and her blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. 'Actually, she was about to speak before you came in and interrupted her.' She almost wanted to snap. Instead, she responded as calmly as ever "Well, I don't think anyone in her position would be particularly talkative." She observed Mimicry closely as she spoke. She felt slightly uneasy around the Omega, since she knew that the reason she had been demoted in the first place was because she'd had a few aggressive outbursts. She didn't know how much damage the skinny Saluki could actually do, but she didn't intend on finding out.

Faline turned back to the prisoner to see that she had backed away again, and she flattened her ears upon seeing the fear in her eyes. She hadn't meant to scare her, and it was only when she saw her in such a vulnerable position that she realized just how young the wolfdog looked. She was probably only a few months younger than Faline herself. Suddenly, Faline felt a surge of anger towards Odin for treating such a young female like this. She'd already suffered enough just by being imprisoned by her enemies, it was unnecessary to torment her further by hurting and starving her. Sure, Odin was her King, and she'd never think of betraying him, but that didn't mean she had to agree with every decision he made. "I can understand you being wary of me, but I really don't mean to harm you." She spoke, hoping she'd believe her. She wanted to go to the female, comfort her, but she didn't think the prisoner would let her near her, so she settled for speaking to her from the other side of the cell. "I'm Faline, the High Priestess of Highvalley Court. May I have your name?"

F E N R I R
Male | 1 year 6 months | Alsatian Shepalute Wolf Mix (65/35) | Lord Commander of Blackback Guard
Location: Blackback Guards Camp
Mentions: Skera Rahla[directly] Ragnar, Odin [Indirectly] (Open for Interaction)

Fenrir was just about to answer the scavenger when Ragnar's voice floated through his ears. A small annoyed growl at Ragnars apparent need to just charge in leaving his muzzle Fenrir quickly turned his head away away from the jarl before answering one of the females around him. "That's not my choice to make Rahla though if you did decide to go I would suggest taking someone with you. Preferably someone who could fight.Not only would that increase the chance's of the information getting back it would also make sure you dont end up dead by one of those Highvalley Court muts." He said as he gazed around the general area making note of those who seemed to lean towards him. He slowly turned his head to Skera before speaking. "You want to choose your group first or should I? Our plans are for naught if we have no organised group to put the plan in action with."

| D R I F T |
Female • 3 Years • Arctic Wolf/Siberian Husky/Norwegian Elkhound Hybrid • Blackback Guard • Scavenger
Location: Camp • Mentions: {Directly} Ragnar {Indirectly} Skera, Fenrir, Lucifer

Drift’s ears strained to pick up Fenrir and Skera’s strategizing, desperately desiring to accompany the latter. Would Skera pick her for her team? Surely the other female could see promise in her? The fire in her eyes every time she spoke of a battle, the ruthless way she hunted down her prey and protected her packmates when needed. Even if she were a scavenger, Skera and Ragnar must at least partially admit she could be useful in a fight. Her body was graceful and supple, befitting of a scavenger, yet she was also large and decently muscled. ’I could just as easily be a slayer. I’m already taller than a few of the males.’

”Drift, you'll be coming with me, so don't let your feet wander."

The Jarl’s voice broke her concentration and her head snapped toward him, eyes widening briefly in shock. She recovered quickly, nodding in understanding before moving to follow him out of camp, a respectful distance back, but not far enough to fall behind or express fear of him. As frightening as Ragnar could be, Drift had never been afraid the brindled brute. A healthy amount of fear in itself was something the pale-furred wolfdog appeared to lack altogether. As she padded past Lucifer her golden gaze grazed over the other hybrid and narrowed slightly in mild dislike. Lucifer had never done her any harm and it was a tad unfair, but she couldn’t see her as anything more than a rival. She was not foolish enough to think Ragnar would make two females a slayer. It would be hard enough just getting him to accept one, and the older female already had experience behind her.



| I G N A T I U S |
Male • 1 Year, 7 Months • Saluki/Ibizan Hound/Iberian Wolf Hybrid • Blackback Guard • Voodoo Queen Youngblood
Location: Camp • Mentions: {Directly} Cain / {Indirectly} Ragnar, Salem

Ignatius examined the flowers he’d come across during his herb hunt with a critical eye, pawing at the bright petals gingerly. “You would make a lovely decoration,” he commented wistfully, “but I’m afraid you have more practical uses.” Leaning forward, he carefully sliced through the stems with his teeth before scooping up the treasured blossoms, loping back into camp within a matter of minutes, his paws gliding over the grass with ease. He slowed to a trot as the other dogs came into sight and his ears perked with curiosity as he noted they appeared to be gathering into separate groups. Clearly he had missed something.

As it appeared they were moving, he made haste to his temporary den, pawing herbs and other necessary plants closer, swiftly placing each into a satchel he had made himself for transporting his wares. If there was to be a battle they would be needed and so would he. Slipping back into camp moments later once he was satisfied with his collection, he glanced around his packmates as they prepared for the journey, copper flecked eyes pausing momentarily on the Jarl and his mentor. Salem would summon him if she desired his company, if she did not call he would not linger around her. Even he was not dense enough that her distaste for him could be missed.

His gaze settled on a much more welcoming sight soon after and Ignatius made his way over to Cain, leaning closer to bump shoulders with him. “You look nervous,” he observed, voice hushed so any surrounding canines would not overhear them. “Are you afraid you will be asked to fight?” Ignatius paused, wondering what a battle would mean for him. Would he be expected to fight? His muzzle wrinkled with distaste at the thought before his face returned to its usual smooth, unperturbed expression. “You needn’t worry friend. I’ll protect you,” he assured, a teasing lilt to his tone.



| O D I N |
Male • 5 Years • Borzoi • Highvalley Court • Lord King
Location: Court Clearing • Mentions: {Directly} Jukka, Derrien, Rana / {Indirectly} Dakota, Beocca

Odin’s long muzzle dipped ever so slightly in acknowledgement of Jukka’s greeting. “The same to you,” he replied, inwardly displeased with how stiff and tired he sounded. “Well enough.” When the red-furred male inquired how he had slept the lie was automatic and he knew very well both of the dogs currently in his company would be able to recognize it if they were attentive, yet neither would dare to mention it if they valued their dignity. How could any king be expected to sleep soundly with a such a threat approaching?

Dark brown eyes burned into Jukka’s face as the shorter male refused to meet his eye. Out of respect or something more personal he wasn’t sure, but intuition had him suspecting his lord duke was thinking back to more...intimate times they had shared. Private moments in the darkest hours of the night, deep within his den where prying eyes could not find them. The assumption left him feeling unsettled, anxiety tightening his chest, but he refused to avert his gaze until a feminine voice alerted him to the presence of one of the providers and he found himself looking down at Rana.

He remained silent, allowing Jukka to answer her questions before sending her and Derrien away. “Take a knight with you,” he ordered, figuring he could spare one warrior to insure his hunter's’ safety. “Dakota or Beocca perhaps, and do not stray far from our borders.”



| A L E X A N D R A |
Female • 3 Years, 10 Months • Afghan Shepherd • Highvalley Court • Knight
Location: Court Dungeons • Mentions: {Directly} Faline, Saba, Mimicry

The cream colored female walked lightly as she found her paws guiding her to the castle dungeon, short pelt rippling with unease as the halls seemed to narrow and the pathway grew darker the further she ventured, lit only by the torches lining the walls and faint flickers of light from the few windows. Ordinarily Alexandra wouldn’t have come here. The dank prison was depressing and the dogs kept within were often left to wither, a cruelty Alexandra wouldn’t wish on the worst of the worst. Those who had committed sins too great to be forgiven should simply be dealt with quickly. Any dog they intended to keep long-term for whatever reason should receive a proper amount of care, as their life was the kingdom’s responsibility.

Unfortunately, the nobility didn’t appear to agree with her views. Odin was not as cruel as his father had been, nor was he especially kind. Her approach would be heard long before she arrived, thick black claws clicking against stone no matter how carefully she stepped. She had caught a glimpse of Faline slipping into the prison minutes prior and decided to follow the high priestess, concerned she might find herself alone with the viking prisoner. Certainly there would be guards around, but Alexandra wasn’t confident they would act quickly enough should danger present itself.

”Stay away from me.”

Cropped ears twitched at the warning from an unfamiliar voice, most likely the scavenger, and she entered the room with semi-raised hackles. Her gaze slipped to where Mimicry had settled, the omega’s odd mutterings not unnoticed, before she placed herself closer to Faline, bowing her head in clear respect to the priestess. She glanced over Saba next and the poor girl’s condition had her fur flattening as a hint of something regretful passed over her face. The hound was an enemy no doubt, but she was also young and her treatment was just what Alexandra had come to expect from the canines kept here. Her heart twisted with sympathy. “Forgive my boldness high priestess,” she murmured softly. “I know I should not have come uninvited, but I thought I should accompany you should you need assistance,” she offered as explanation for her presence. “If you so wish it, I will leave.”



| D A G |
Male • 4 Years • Swedish Elkhound • Highvalley Court • Provider
Location: Court Walls • Mentions: {Directly} Dakota

Dag climbed the stone steps that led to the very top of the high walls shielding the kingdom from the world outside, a plump hare clenched between his jaws. Through the aroma of still warm prey surrounding his nose, he detected Dakota’s scent and followed it to where the young knight rested along the nearest ledge. Padding up beside the yearling, he dropped his catch at her side and stared down at her cheerily. “I thought you could use a snack,” he offered, pushing the hare closer to her muzzle with a paw. “You must be hungry.”

There was little harm in fetching the knights guarding the wall a bit of fresh meat and Dag often made a habit of bringing them any tasty morsel that could be spared. No dog appeared to take offense and so he assumed the prey was not missed. He noted the bored expression Dakota wore and hoped perhaps the prospect of a meal and some friendly company might relieve some of the monotony for her. He knew he shouldn’t distract the knights, but four eyes on the horizon would be better than just two. Watching and chatting weren’t mutually exclusive.