⇽ 𝔸𝕃𝕕𝕒𝕚𝕣 ⇾
Combatant/F/camp/ No one (free for interaction)

----

The brown wolf fluffed up her fur, feeling slightly chilly as the breeze ruffled through her soft coat. She was still slightly upset, her sovereign's words not seeming to comfort the feeling in her chest. It was a mixed feeling of rage and disappointment, the feeling bottled up in her heart and causing her long claws to dig into the sodden earth.

Her pink nose twitched, the cold air stinging her lungs as she took in a big deep breath to let her nerves cool but it wasn't helping as much. She sighed, eyes fixed to nothing but the abyss and the sun that shone over the trees. A plan had been bubbling in her brain since yesterday, something she wasn't sure she could do, but it seemed to stick to her like tree sap in her fur.

She let her gaze fall to her paws, turning them over to look at her pink pads. Her leader sounded so uncertain and tired, and she had only shaken her head in disapproval at him. In her mind though shaking her head wasn't enough. Nothing seemed to be enough these days.

She sighed, her yellow and green eyes now slightly closed as she rested her head on her paws. Was this all she could do? For now, her mind still silently trying to push the plan she had to the back of her mind, she could only watch as disaster slowly would unfold and leave nothing but despondency.

Kismet | 20 Years | Female | Proxy | White and Cream Pelt
Location: Camp | Mentions: [Direct] None [Indirect] Khalida, Fell, Frostbite

Kismet did her best to appear her rank. Her fur was better than before, more tamed. Held more of a regal aura to it, rather than the mysterious and messy aura she was used to having. It was something she didn’t expect to happen. She wasn’t aiming for it, she wasn’t known for being ambitious. She just… was. Maybe that’s what made her anxiously preen and pamper and present herself in a much more august manner. She did her best to care for her pack and offer a warm presence, giving out more reassuring smiles, brushing her frame against those who needed a small reminder of you are not alone, you are not alone. But… wow. A Proxy? She had expected Fell to receive the honor, though. Anyone could tell that male had an eye for it.

Kismet exhaled slowly, quietly, through her mouth, her eyes half hidden beneath the delicate droop of her eyelids. She was worried, though her pristine mask made her appear as serene and unbothered as it had since she was welcomed into the pack. Her rank was a reassurance in itself, she knew that. Fell was a backup plan, she was a backup plan. It was a great way to secure a sense of grounding, in her opinion. To have two able wolves to fall back on shall Yifan himself succumb to the disease. The tender-looking she-wolf moved in a steady, loose stroll. Another manipulation of the eyes, another flawless mask.

She looked around for those two level-headed wolves again. Khalida and Frostbite. The only two combatants that saw the importance of a calm and sound pack. Maybe they could get another hunt going. Kismet herself had found two hares on that hunt, and she had only a bite before relinquishing it to someone more needing of it. But now she needed something to do, just as much as she did when the news first struck. Everything was just one big distraction for her. The constant appearance of the mask, her own offers of reassurance, the regality… Honestly, she just wanted to tuck herself against someone and whimper like a whelp. But she was better than that. She hoped.

Tempest | 20 Years | Female | Combatant | Off-White, Gray, Brown Pelt
Location: Camp | Mentions: [Direct] None [Indirect] Yifan, Tarkik, Maculoses

To say Tempest was pissed was an understatement. She wasn’t ready? Excuse me? Who the hell was he to say she wasn’t ready? Was she under constant watch of the bastard for him to know such a thing? To say such things? She had seen red, and it took everything in her not to go for someone’s throat. She felt entitled to the presence of the herbalists, to protect them. Who else stood at their sides, granting them a solid presence to depend on? Hell, she’d been running errands for any herbalists that sought her out since she joined.

Tempest was doing several sweeps along the outer ring of the camp, her paws heavy with prominent anger. The lividity that set her olive hues alight with a ring of fire and made the heat within her blood near tangible kept many wolves at a distance as her paws pressed a path into the ground. She could easily let the group leave and she could follow closely. She was a fantastic tracker, her nose seemingly built for a hell hound on a mission rather than a mortal bodied she-wolf.

She wanted to wait though, to take the edge off her wrath so she could deliver her gifts to the two herbalists she looked after. It would be three, but something about Luciel seemed to rub her the wrong way. So she carried two hares in her jaws, drawing closer to the herbalist’s shelter, her ears perked and head dipped just a bit. She knew she probably looked like a storm wearing a wolf’s skin, her anger coming off in waves, but she wanted to wish Tarkik and Maculoses luck and give them a good breakfast, wherever they were.

Aldair
Combatant/F/camp/ Kismet (directly)

----

Aldair looked up, seeing the new proxy with her fur now elegantly groomed. She sighed. She needed to distract herself from this mayhem around her, hunting seeming to be one way she could ease herself. She stood up, padding over to Kismet with her tail raised in greeting. Aldair thought she could see slight tension in the wolf, but knew probably asking wouldn't help. She dipped her head, trying to hide the look of pertubation in her eyes.

''Congrats Kismet! I know you will do great!'' She chirped, raising her head with a slight smile on her face as her tail swayed side to side slowly in joy. ''Do you think I can do some hunting? The pack could use some food.''

| | Aspen|M|Rookie||
| | Location: Camp|Mentions: (indirect/flashback) Everest, Echo, Leora, Yifan (d) open| |

◦◦◦

"You will not go out there," Yifan snapped harshly, his gaze growing darker. "Do you have a death wish? If so, that is unfortunate for an age as young as yours. You, in any circumstance, will not get yourself killed. You are a rookie, you still have a life to live, and so," He stepped back, withdrawing his violent hold from Aspen. Yifan's lips were curled back into a furious snarl, showcasing long, laser-whitened fangs that somehow went unstained from blood. "And so, with my authority as leader, I won't let you toss away your life like that." After Yifan turned away, Aspen could hear a low, grumbling growl. Realizing that it was coming from himself, he abruptly turned tail, storming out of the cave.

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

| | Echo|M|Infiltrator||
| | Location: Camp|Mentions: Aspen, open| |

◦◦◦

Khalida | 21 Years Old | Female | Combatant
Location: Camp | Mentions: Kismet, Aldair

The bone of a scrawny deer fawn from yesterday's pile crumbled beneath Khalida's teeth, falling onto the cold stone on which she reclined. The already-devoured carcass sat at her paws, all but the skeleton consumed, having been a hearty meal (though it was already half-eaten when she got to it) after yesterday's hunt. (Where she herself had managed to locate an entire small colony of decently sized mice. Not too shabby, if she did say so herself.) She moved to pick up the discarded bone, scouring it for marrow, feeling the early morning breeze brush through her fur. It was rather chilly, though she supposed that was to be expected for the late moons of winter.

Dropping the bone once more, partially slitted eyes scanned the camp. Multiple wolves were awake despite the early hour, and from her miniature perch, she could see Kismet, in all her sinuous glory, strolling around camp, looking for all the world the epitome of serene, unbothered despite the new weight of responsibility on her shoulders. She was shortly approached by Aldair, a combatant, and even with the distance, Khalida could hear their conversation if she listened hard enough.

Had she herself congratulated Kismet on her new status the day before? No time like the present, she supposed.

Without any flair, she leaped from her perch, discarding the carcass for another canine to gnaw on as she made her way to the duo. Her steps were slow, methodical, even, approaching with hardly a noise like a spectral wraith. "Yes, a proxy..." The words rolled off her tongue, an idle purr flowing from her lips as she leisurely circled the white and cream wolf. Her tail brushed ever-so-slightly against her hocks, and she offered a brief, almost approving, nod. "...congratulations."

She gave the new proxy an appraising stare, letting her gaze linger on the white and cream female's fur, elegantly groomed and smoothed to a much more august professionalism. It looked... nice, actually. Coupled with her naturally supple frame, and how the freshly groomed coat pressed against it so oh-so-nicely, well... The words slipped out of her mouth easily, almost absentmindedly. "...Hm, you look good."

Noting Aldair was still there, Khalida removed herself from Kismet's side, giving the brown and black female a short nod in greeting.

"If you are starting a hunting party, I would be glad to join, if you will have me." She spoke to both at once. Truthfully, her muscles were still a bit sore from yesterday, but she would hardly show weakness in front of the pack — not if she wanted to keep her reputation intact.

Kismet | 20 Years | Female | Proxy | White and Cream Pelt
Location: Camp | Mentions: [Direct] Khalida, Aldair [Indirect]

Kismet turned to accept the greeting of Adair, spotting her moving brown and black form out of the corner of her slightly unfocused eyes. Those eerie eyes refocused swiftly, a faint smile curling at her maw as she nodded, the movement slight and barely a drop of her chin. She noted a slight anxious gleam to the she-wolf’s eyes and made a mental note to try and brush it away delicately, with soft words. She listened to the lass with a subtle tilt of her head, as a bit of her body relaxed, happy to have a nice conversation to be her distraction.
“Thank you, Adair, I needed to hear that,” she murmured, her voice only a bit louder than the breeze, a sweet lilt gliding smoothly into her words. “I would happily hunt with you. We only need to wait for one more, to head out.” Her smile grew just a tad. Maybe the she-wolf saw her tension, her restlessness, and had chosen to become her saving grace. Whatever it was, she was thankful.

Soon enough, she more so felt Khalida’s eyes than heard her approach. The weight of it sent a tingle of alarm down her spine, and before she could turn and investigate, a sensuous purr stopped her from her inspection. She tossed her head over one shoulder, finding nothing, and a gentle caress — brief and feather-light — sent her head jerking over her other shoulder, her mask crumbling to a frazzled mess as she beheld the ravishing lass. She mumbled a quiet thank you, eyes falling back to their normal size as they studied the calm female who seemed to be… devouring her with her eyes. Heat built up beneath her pelt and she was sure her groomed pelt would begin frizz out from the intensity. She, for once, dipped her chin momentarily, flustered from the kind of attention she wasn’t used to receiving.

She kept her mouth shut as several not-so chaste comments sprung to mind, and her eyes darted to Adair. She straightened as Khalida seemed to remember who else was there and stepped from her, to Kismet’s hidden dismay, and brought forth the topic that Kismet’s abashed mind was almost too muddled to remember. She inhaled quickly and brought her smile back, seamlessly falling back into her serene mask even as her heart trilled in alarm. “Well, it appears we’ve found our third! Do you wish to depart now, or shall we wait for another?”

She tried, oh she tried so hard to keep her eyes on Adair and not on the regal beauty her eyes had often roamed over brazenly on her own time. She fought to purr out her own little compliments, but knew by the muddled state of her mind it was best to keep her mouth shut, lest she make a fool of herself more than she already had. I guess this is payback. Wonderful payback, but still…

arthur | male | reaper

location ; outside the herbalist den| mentions ; luciel, any open herbalists in the den.

heavy and hard paws hit the earth as his slender body exposed his frame. his fur luckily covered up how skinny arthur was. the dark brown sable warmed up the rest of his brown coat. his jaws clamped over a stick, the other end had a soaked leaf, his nose wrinkled at the disgusting scent, but he knew the herbalists use this. "hey! hey luciel!" he called out to the ginger wolf. his teeth gritted against the stick, annoyed knowing that luciel was most likely taking out her beetles. a annoyed huff escape, his golden eyes stared at the enterance of the herbalist den. "luciel and her damn beetles. she really ought to lose her rank." he murmured, negative and annoying throughs provoking himself more. arthur was a often a quiet and mature wolf, but his bad temper often got the best of him. arthur's appearance didn't exactly match his personality aside him his charm. he was a tall wolf with values of brown on his body. the modt notable was the dark brown. dark brown around his eyes, then shown as a blaze marking on his muzzle before falling down into his sable marking. he bore a light brown underbelly and socks, long with a warm milk brown pelt inbetween. he was a charming wolf with a slender frame but with a board head and shoulders made his body look bigger than it actually is. arthur lowered his hunches down as he gritted his teeth, staring into the den, "hey! anyone in there! I don't want to hold a steaming pile of rabbit dung before chunking it!" he called out to the den. his voice was a deep and almost raspy type of voice, husky almost. sharing similar charm from his appearance, but with the annoyed tone laced in it. it lost its charm. "hey!" he called out once again, before gripping onto the stick tighter, letting a few more huffs escape. "goddamnit luciel."

aka | female | forebearer

location ; outside the forebearer den| mentions ; open for interaction.

"Calming words to make a baby sleep," singing quiet lullabies as aka arranges a small trinket, a flower necklace. though her words were in Japanese, her native language, they still held her soft tone as she sung. the former mother pulled on the twine to secure the stems together. singing quietly as she brushed the flowers up. the flowers were a mixture of blues, reds, whites, and some pink flowers dotting around it. they wrre vibrant in color. but each flower was different. though a few were the same, but most of them were from different flower families. aka kept her palr pink hued eyes locked on the flowers. taking shelter near the forebearer den. though she hasn't been pregnant in years, she enjoyed being around orphaned pups. teaching them kindness, and understanding of others and their own feelings. aka found comfort in those pups. the albino wolf had to find comfort some where. with the news of the disease back a while ago, it still brought shivers down her spine. with a calming sigh, aka began to sing a different lullaby. her voice fruitful and natural as the different words rolled off her tongue. fixing and adjusting the flowers of the necklace. the lack of pups were concerning, but she knew that all love must be taken slow. forcing such a think as love won't be good for anyone, no matter how old they were. the albino wolf stopped singing for a moment, tucking her head under the flower necklace and letting it hit against her chest and shoulders. "good, it big." she murmured to herself, and removed the necklace to look at the sorted piles of flowers near her. unsure what to make next as she grabbed out random flowers.

Magnus | Male | Infiltrator | Mentions: Aka

The brawny brute was nervous, very nervous. He hadn't volunteered for this suicide mission, why had he been picked? Kismet was probably just as good, if albeit louder, than him. And she'd offered her assistance. He'd simply been forced into the role. Magnus found his mind reverting to a childhood state, a silent tantrum of 'that's not fair! swirled through his head. But he shook that broad cranium, pepper and cinnamon ears flopping loosely. What if he caught the disease? Could it be caught simply by being near the infected, like a cold? What if he died?

To be honest, death wasn't something Magnus spent much time dwelling on. He didn't like looking back, nor did he like looking too far forward. Often, peering into the future left one blind to the present. Magnus didn't fancy being blind. Those silent paws bore the wraith-like mover back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, like a pendulum swinging restlessly on its imprisoning string. The pendulum was Magnus, the string the overbearing fist of his own damn mind. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

He paused as a familiar voice broke through his conscious. A lullaby, drifting through the air from the direction of the fore bearer's den. Curious, Magnus swept from his anxious pacing and came to see Aka, painstakingly twining flowers on a string. She then slipped them around her neck, and muttered to herself. He head cocked involuntarily, eyebrows perched over curious eyes raising at the sight. What a curious wolf. His interest piqued, the earthen male approached Aka slowly, calling out a greeting in his low baritone. "Hey, what are you making?"

His voice held only innocent curiosity. He was never one to poke fun at others, especially for what they loved to do. If it brought a creature joy, especially in these dark times, they deserved to do it. He sank into a sit beside the albino wolf, watching with intense focus as Aka reached for random flowers.

Maculoses | Female | Herbalist | Mentions: Open

It had become quite clear to her, though she hid it from others, that Mac was dying. A victim of her own damn disease, a casualty of what had once granted her foresight. She cursed it, those seizures that shook her body, that made her hurt, that forced up whatever little food she ate these days. She despised that stiffening of her joints, the blindness and deafness. She didn't even see anything anymore in her strange lack of consciousness. Just... darkness. And pain. But maybe that was her own pain bleeding through. Blood. It seemed to be everywhere. She'd seen it in her vomit, her stools, even her urine. She was dying but dammit, why couldn't it happen faster?

She had to fight through the pain, taking shaking step after shaking step, fighting the exhaustion and that overwhelming urge to lay down and sleep. Sleep forever, let that blanket of darkness overcome her. But she rarely woke up normally anymore. Typically, her eyes popped open after suffering a seizure in her sleep, at which point she vomited, caught her breath, and vomited again. It was agony, but for some reason, her internal systems just kept chugging along. She rationalized with herself, in those rare moments when that internal twisting sensation calmed enough for her to un- cloud her mind. She couldn't have the disease. She wasn't insane, she hadn't shown any of the few symptoms she'd managed to see. It was almost ironic, to kill the medic with a disease they couldn't even study. Life could be clever, in its own sick, twisted way. Most days she spent in her den, pretending to sort through her collection of herbs and other remedies, lying on the cool dirt floor, shaking, waiting for that next seizure to paralyze her.

She told herself she couldn't die yet. She had to learn about this disease first. Help her pack before she passed on, like they had helped her. It was a cold comfort. She'd resigned herself to her eventual, and probably rapidly approaching death. She grinned and bore it, though her smile was often a twisted grimace of pain as this unknown demon tore through her, leaving naught but pain and darkness in its wake. Perhaps the cruelest thing of all, was that death dangled just out of reach. Every morning she woke up, seized several times, went to bed, and woke up again. There were clean ways to end it, oh yes. She had buried in her stores Wolfsbane, Nightshade, the toxic plants that only she knew about. Not in general, most wolves were raised with the knowledge to never eat them, but only Mac knew about her store.

But she couldn't end it herself. That just seemed to ironic and after all this, Mac despised irony. The healer killing herself, how strange. With gritted teeth, the pale wolf pushed herself to her unsteady paws, walking only far enough to take a drink from the repurposed turtle shell she kept near for just this reason. She vomited so often now she'd become a pro at helping herself as much as possible, as well as disguising the sickening smell. She took the most fragrant flowers she could get her trembling paws on and strung them around her den, allowing their powerful aroma to overcome the stench of half digested food and bile. In the moments when the pain was only mild, she might venture outside to bask in the sun, allowing the rays to soak into her pelt. She enjoyed it greatly, as she never knew which time might be the last.

(( Another one of those short replies ))
| |Aspen|M|Rookie||
| |Location: Camp|Mentions: (d) Enyo, open (i) Echo| |

◦◦◦

╔══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══════╗

Baekhyun|M|Youth|Mentions: Maculoses, [Indirectly] Avalanche

The petite, youthful pup pricked his ears forward as the first ray of the sun shone through the small cracks wedged between the humid cave walls, slightly obscured by a few defiant clouds that remained from the night before. He opened his mouth in a wide, toothy yawn, and the golden pup rolled over on his side, snuggling into the soft mixture of moss and bracket cushioning him from the hard, dirt covered floor. Baekhyun stilled for a moment, watching as a single mouse scurried away from the other pup snoozing across from him-Avalanche was it?-her form curled neatly on her own nest.
The mouse was letting out worried squeaks that reverbrated in the small den, and Baekhyun blinked sleepily before scrambling to his paws, trailing after the gray critter that cowered away from him in fear.
"Hello." He greeted softly and extended a gentle paw to it, but before he could get closer, the mouse had disappeared among the many holes in the wall.
Baekhyun frowned. When he was younger, the other animals did not seem to be afraid of him, nor minded his presence. What had happened?
"I'm growing up." He muttered out loud, his mood shattered as he made his way to the exit. "Baekhyun don't wanna grow up..."
The wind wasn't as chilly as yesterday. It carried the odor of the other wolves, their scents blending together into one that radiated peace. The pup inhaled deeply, his shallow chest rising in an almost alluring way before falling back down.
Then he scented it.
Her scent was somehow stronger, more distinguishable. Baekhyun always felt as if he could sense the most troubled packmember, and today it was simply one of the more professional herbalists. Baekhyun's right ear twitched as he avoided contact from the other wolves, which was relatively easy as his short figure was hard to spot on the terrain with the sun barely just rising. He knew his fur would be illuminated by the sunlight, and so he was especially thankful that he woke early today.
Baekhyun peered at the cave he was nearing, one that he had seen the herbalists enter and exit frequently whenever he was out resting in the cool shade of the trees that grew thick and tall near their campsite. Sure that it was where he would find her, Baekhyun wagged his tail and entered the den without hesitation.
"Mac- Mac-" Baekhyun couldn't pronounce her full name and his tongue twisted and turned when he tried, and so he settled with her common nickname. "Ms. Mac, are you okay? Are you hurting?"

╚══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══════╝

⇽ 𝔸𝕃𝕕𝕒𝕚𝕣 ⇾

Combatant/F/camp/ Kismet (direct) Khalida (direct)

----

She nodded back, looking back at Kismet nearly making her burst in laughter. She smirked noticing the way the new proxy acted around the other female.

''Yes lets!'' She couldn't help but snicker as she looked at Kismet's flustered face. Oh how foolish!, ''Well ladies let's go!''

And with that, she trotted ahead over to the entrance, looking back at Kismet with her eyes seeming to say: ''I know what's going on''

Aldair laugh. In her opinion love was so foolish! She had broken many males hearts, even some females. Her list seemed to go on and on. Love didn't seem to matter to her, it was just a waste of time! Or was it? She frowned a bit at the thought and looked back at the two.

Now a look, a look of what looked mixed with confusion, sadness, and frustration, seemed to quickly take form in her eyes. Thoughts of the ones she rejected crossed her mind again, but now she wasn't grinning. It was strange she felt this way, very.

She shook her head. No, she shouldn't think about those fools. She then slowly sat down, staring at the sky.

Tarkik | 20 Years Old | Genderfluid | Herbalist
Location: Camp | Mentions: Yifar (Directly) / Magnus, Tempest, Maculoses (Indirectly)

Throughout the night, Tarkik’s sleep was troubled. Tossing and turning, his nest little more than shredded scraps by the time he woke. An important task lay ahead of him today, and he feared those who were meant to accompany him would not be fit for it. For all her wisdom and courage, Macluloses was very ill. He could scent it on her pelt, had seen the blood her body expelled. The unknown disease allowed her no nourishment, no peace. Her last days would be wrought with pain and starvation. A whimper filled his throat as the acknowledgment of her agony crashed over him.

Then there was Magnus, a wolf whose attendance was forced. His stomach turned with anxiety and guilt. Tempest volunteered, for the ancestor’s sake! The fierce she-wolf was more than capable! Why force a wolf who didn’t believe what they hoped to accomplish was feasible? He paced to and fro, his movements growing erratic. He had to fix this; there must be some way to fix this. His mind set, Tarkik left the herbalist’s shared den seconds before Tempest’s entrance, just missing her, his amber gaze seeking out the sovereign’s dark form.

Upon spotting him, he approached the larger male cautiously, his head dipping into a courteous bow of greeting. The tightness in chest grew, but he forced himself to speak, hoping against the odds Yifar was in a reasonable mood. “Sovereign, if you have the time, may I please speak with you privately? I have some concerns regarding the mission, and I was hoping to discuss them with you before departing.”