{[FALLIN DOWN!!!]}(Maka)

[The Burning Ruin]

The lone timber wolf padded his way through the woods, not really focusing on his stealth at the moment. To hell with stealth, what did he care, he didn't even know where he was. He didn't know where he was past that he was on a island that had played host to his father before he left and started the Hostile Takeover, Runner's birth pack. He'd brought his oversized rear end here on his oversized paws on a frozen sea in the middle of a dead winter, right at home for him thought, He was a Zaraidd. It was in his blood, the way he could walk on snow so lightly his paws didn't break the surface, or the way he could run flat out on ice for 2 miles before he started to breath heavyish. The land that his bloodline had come from was a frozen hell all year round. So any Zaraidd rose in the winter and set in the summer as it where. Well not Runner per say but a fully realized Zaraidd soulder, which he wasn't. He was a teenager, and dispite the fact that he was the size of a full grown wolf already, he wasn't full grown, and he was no Zaraidd Soulder. He wasn't, he just liked thinking he was a winter war monger like the heros his father used to tell storys about.

Now Runner might have been able to go un-noticed, if he hadn't been so busy singing and mumbling songs of gold and lust and war. One thing was for sure he had the colorful mind of a Zaraidd. He'd heard from the strang wolf Natoma that Traum had become a hostile war bond place, whic only provoked Runner's hunger and lust for glory. He had this profound ability to hover on the edge of trouble and not slip to the other side for some time. One time spending a whole mouth with a pack that hated the very thought of his bloodline, thanks the a mistake of this greatgrandfather. He'd been on this blasted island for some time now waiting to find a side to blend into until given a chance to make some noise. He'd been hunting a war. One to prove himself the Warrior he thought himself to be, to earn the right to call himself part of the bloodline. You know, Teenager man of action type stuff.

As he walked he mumbled songs to himself. Dark songs about war and lust and gold and chasing denoms and dark stuff like that. Mumbled and sang and yelled and otherwise carried on. "Down in the dark devil's den... Shine so selfishly... Greed! Greed! Men driven by greed as their master..." He stoped and rose his head to the sky and sang out, "fallin down, fallin down. Fallin DOWN! Its in you head, and all the voices will stay dead! Shake it off, Shake it off!! We're all diein' in the end!!"

He walked on until he found himself at this glorius waterfall, which in some way cleared his mind of the chaos and calmed him down some, he sat on a slab of rock near the water and gazed at it. "Ugh... I'm losing my mind ain't I?"... he mumbled...

[Makarov]

[atrb=border,0,true][cs=7][bg=000000] Wintersleep Solokov knew there was much to do on this day. Wintersleep also knew that soon the cold would fully enclose upon them and send the island of Traum - in exception for the paradise gem that was Enchanted Kingdom - into the grips of the hardest and most unforgiving winter ever faced by any wolf here. But that was alright with him. It was his namesake after all was it not? Had his father - oh Dragunov you bitter, strange demon - not gilded him with the title of a Russian soldier, a legend who lived in the minds of every true son and daughter of the motherland. And though the Motherland did not have the same kind of brilliant flare to it as it did to his father, Sleep still felt a deep connection towards the place. It bred passion and strength in all kinds of different ways, as if it were in the soil and the water itself there. And like any strange, mythical land to the far north, it also bred giants. The air that left Wintersleep's great chest was like a blast of smoke billowing up from the gaseous chambers of fire and brimstone deep inside of a dragon's fire-lung. The frosted breath leaped forward before lifting up higher above his head and seeming to hang there as if the very water particles that made up the tiny cloud had frozen there in mid-air. Smiling slightly to himself, the large male, adorned in a pale beige coat with a sampling of browns and a general peppering of almost hidden blacks and grays, picked himself up a little. The snow was getting thicker everywhere he looked, riding up the trunks of the once vibrant trees that guarded this place with solemn silence. Beneath him where he had once lain there was a warmed indent into the chilly white element. Wintersleep picked himself up, scratched an itch beneath his chin, made sure his feather was in order and then moved to relieve himself after his long rest. He chose a nearby tree to mark. It was thin with a slight curve to it's trunk, and Sleep sighed happily as he left a yellow pulse-line across the unmarred snow. Satisfied, he lowered his muzzle to the ground, tasting the air as he went and performed a few circles, checking for prey scents in case any had come across his path or wandered nearby in the short time he had been napping. There was nothing, but his intent nature, his sheer wakefulness allowed him to hear something, not all that far off. The sound of a voice broke through the relative silence of the forest and Sleep's body was instantly set with unease, his muscles tensing and flexing and the steely talons which tipped his snow-shoe like paws dug into the element fiercely. Intruder? Time to shine! He was off like a bullet, using the easiest rutted out paths carved by the travels of the herds of deer which quite often traversed. It made the going easier, even if it was not hard for him to pass over the hard-packed snow with little ease. He hardly ever broke through the surface and tumbled through, though in some cases it was just bound to happen due to his sheer size. But if a woolly mammoth could keep their head above the snow, then Wintersleep Solokov could. The sound led him straight to the half frozen pool and the roar of the waterfall, where the sound of singing melded in with its deafening roar.Amongst the relatively plain backdrop of the snowy white it was not hard to spot the fellow, quite sizable himself. Without a feather behind his ear though and with no clear visual of the creature's chest, Sleep was instantly on guard. He brought himself to a full halt just beyond the trees, presenting himself without fear and boring into Runner with a pair of eyes so strange they seemed to represent the heavens and the hellfires themselves. Mother had once said that the red of his right eye came from his dead aunt, who had perished as a demoness and a creature ridden by thoughts in her mind so dark that she could not deny. Wintersleep pushed this aside, thinking one last time of his sister's pretty white face and the demonic red jewels beset into her features. "Privyet!" Sleep barked. It was a short and simple sound. Deep and resonating and full of the commanding determination that his own mother and the Commander of this place strived for. "You trespass in the Realm of Warriors, wolf. State your name and the business you have here with us." This was a time of war. There was no room for compassionate mistakes and kindness. ooc;; Privyet - Hello in Russian

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[The Burning Ruin]

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in through my noise, filling my belly with air rather than my chest. Then exhaled through my mouth, leaving a cloud to rise and disappear in the wind. The first lesson of any from my bloodline was to breath the RIGHT way, in through the noise out through the mouth, with your gut not chest. I heard a sharp word in russian, and my eyes opend sharply, my hazel green ords locking on a figure with two different eyes. That was a defect of breeding my family, but that I kept to myself and did not show in my face because I knew better, personal opioins where ment to stay mostly just that, Personal...

I threw on a cocky smile, rose to my feet, and let myself be known. "HA! Privyet! Its a Russian greeting, I don't speak the languge personaly, no, but I do know it. Who am I?" I laughed alittle to myself. "I am Runner Sixx Zaraidd The Second. My reason for being here is bother convoluted and simple." I took a deep breath and gave myself a shake to settle down into a more civil mannor before telling my story.

"I knew a wolf once. Strange fellow, pelt of a manned and build of an artic. He was from here, and his tale of this place was one of a war bond hell hole about to break loose." my gaze fell to my feet for a moment, as if what came next ate at me alittle bit, which it did. "And with Daddy Dearist dead and my birth pack falling apart, I figured I might as well come take part in the place I heard all the stories about. My dad was from around here, tried to save the souls of a few wolves in this group called the Revolt. And Natoma, the strange wolf, The Order drove him out. I'm here for... I don't know why I'm here Sir..." My gaze fell to the water, half frozen, and I looked deep and hard into my own reflection. "I think I came lookin for a fight... Got lost along the way I guess..." That last bet was aimed at myself, but this other wolf heard it ether way no dought...

[Makarov]

[atrb=border,0,true][cs=7][bg=000000] As Wintersleep stood his ground from a few leaps and bounds away, the other male rose stiffly, as if he had been resting at the edge of the semi frozen surface for a little while. How undesirable, Sleep had really been neglecting his duties hadn't he? To have allowed a wolf, friend or foe, this far into the territory without being evaluated? Ha, he felt a deep, burning shame sear into his pride but refused to let these unbecoming emotions fall onto his features. As his father before him had been, he was a master of the hidden emotion, or the thrown emotion even. (Essentially the fine art of acting as you pretended to be something you were not, or an emotion you were not). Let's save that for another time though, shall we? Wintersleep had very little to hide as the fellow before him, hued in the traditional garb of a Timber Wolf, albeit a rather cumbersome one, stood and appeared to look him up and down. His own eyes lingered on Sleep's two-toned gaze. It was something he was used to, that scant distaste. He would ignore it for now. There was a confidence in the way this wolf moved, so very sure of himself and any abilities he may be hiding deep down beneath the thickness of his pelt. His smile though, was rather brazen, and the Team Leader of the War Devil's Brigade felt his muscles tense ever so slightly, sending a rippling effect down across his paled pelt. Sleep's tail flickered upwards but he did no more, preferring to stay in his relatively squared off posture until he deemed that this wolf was indeed no threat. Besides the general similarities in size, the young Warrior noted something else, and was relieved to find that as Runner turned he did not proudly bare the Triskel tattoo that branded each and every one of his enemies. And what would he have done if the opposite had been the case? Wintersleep only liked to fathom it on a general level, but he liked to think he would be spurned into some sort of feverish and hasty action. Would he leap and bite first? Or would insults be the appetizer on the way to their meal in hell? He listened, as he often liked to do. His face was a mask of stone, indomitable and immobile, yielding to no particular opinion just yet. "HA! Privyet! Its a Russian greeting, I don't speak the languge personaly, no, but I do know it. Who am I? I am Runner Sixx Zaraidd The Second. My reason for being here is both convoluted and simple." A slightly engorged vocabulary punctuated the cockiness of the tones that one Runner Sixx Zaraidd seemed to fly like the proud flag of his tail. Personally it did nothing for Sleep, who used only the words which came to his head, and chose more often then not to simply not speak at all. One came across a lot more in the world when they listened. You just learned more I suppose. But despite this general attitude there was very little in the form of a threat here and as Runner settled back on his rump in order to complete his story, Wintersleep wordlessly did the same and dropped his bottom into the snow. "I knew a wolf once. Strange fellow, pelt of a manned and build of an arctic. He was from here, and his tale of this place was one of a war bound hell hole about to break loose. And with Daddy Dearest dead and my birth pack falling apart, I figured I might as well come take part in the place I heard all the stories about. My dad was from around here, tried to save the souls of a few wolves in this group called the Revolt. And Natoma, the strange wolf, The Order drove him out. I'm here for... I don't know why I'm here Sir... I think I came lookin for a fight... Got lost along the way I guess..." Runner had been right on those aspects of convoluted and simple as he had mentioned in the moments before. All in all, he was just a young male out looking for the glory and honor of the fight. He was a soldier without the proper disciplines and without a battle he could pin to his name like a badge of honor. A few names mentioned though, caused a strange taste to form in his mouth with the memories. It was his job to know things on the island, and he knew these stories all too well. "Quite the tale, Runner Sixx Zaraidd the Second," he started off casually, and the Russian in his voice spoke of a generation born away from the Motherland. It was more like a sampling then a full on accent and it seemed to have grown on him a little with his age. For good measure he injected Runner's full title in for purposes of properness. Some wolves strive to be known for their bloodline and Wintersleep was definitely one of them, even if the connotations of his surname seemed to bring up less the choice reactions. He tried to wear it was utter pride. "My name is Wintersleep Solokov, Team Leader of the War Devil's Brigade and Warrior of the Realm. If it is glory in war and death you seek then I suggest you move on to other pastures, friend. For a Warrior only takes up arms against his enemy when the time is dire, to quarrel only for those who cannot fight for themselves.." His eyes remained studeously burning into the spot between Runner's eyes, not fearing the ideal of eye contact with one who had yet to prove himself. There was no contempt nor anger in his voice, merely a suggestion. Sleep shrugged his immense shoulders, rolling his neck slightly to one side until it popped, and then repeated the process on the other side. "I've heard of Natoma, who became a lesson to the sheer cruelty of The Order, and I'll let it be known that the wolves of the Revolt, their souls are damned along with their allies.Yet, if you think you have the grit and the discipline to walk the line with us, Runner. I'll be willing to give you a chance to prove yourself as a soldier and a Warrior..." He paused for a moment as if to think then adjusted a ghost of a smile onto his muzzle. "Just don't go thinking you can follow in the pawsteps of your father, no wolves on that side seem willing to convert... We've tried."

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[The Burning Ruin]

Glory in war and death.....

My eyes still fixed on themselves in my reflection as I puzzled over his words. He knew of Natoma and his ass kicking. And what he said about the Revolt was pretty much the same thing that Zaratul had said only in different words.

The Revolt was my failure to arrive in time. That fea that lead them was insane and ruthlessly evil, by my eyes. I abandoned hope and left right in front of her eyes, for there is no one of US you can brand a slave. However, I regret leaving, because though I'd nearly managed my goal, those wolves were forfit.

Zaratul had been able to see past the dirt, down into your very soul, to what you could be, could have been. And it ate at him sometimes when he thought of wolves he could have saved. But he was a pup, born in a time of peace, had a conflict grow out of the ground before him, rose up and carved his name in glory with that conflict. He was proud of the Zaraidd in is blood, as I was. He'd been my hero and my father.

Your first leason was how to breath. Your second was a battle cry. The battle cry. I chuckled lightly and repeated Wintersleep's words. "For those who cannot fight for themselves. Haha... Tang Soo." I and I rose to my feet. My gaze met his. "You have a way with words Wintersleep Solokov"

I gazed back behind me for a moment. What was back there. Did it matter? My mind was made up now. I spread feet into an agressive stance, returned my gaze to Wintersleep, and rose my tail and head high, my ears standing stright up, my face strong and my smile proud. This was the pose Zaratul would strike with he stood ontop of his rock and looked at all of us, his pack that he'd made, that he'd been proud. The words that came next where as strong and proud as me. And as the sun rose up over the trees I spoke. "I am a Zaraidd!" It felt good. To speak those words. To show no fear of that fact.

I settled quickly back down into a more respectful stance and lowered my tone again. "I've got the grit, this I know. And I can prove I have the disapline, just as I can my worth to be one of your Warriors." and I felt a thrill run through me. Maybe it was just the moment, or maybe it was something about what I was doing. Rather than running around wishing for a chance to act all high and might, I was going to do something, to prove something. It felt cool. Still there was something that caught me just alittle. I wasn't sure what Sleep ment about falling in my father's pawsteps and about this side that none wanted to convert from. But ether way I don't think it mattered much. The moment at hand was far more important.

[Makarov]

[atrb=border,0,true][cs=7][bg=000000] For a little while, Runner stared at his reflection in the remaining section of unfrozen water near the edge of the pond. Reflecting on something, no doubt, and Wintersleep could not help but chuckle inwardly at his own unspoken pun. Eventually though the other looked to him and a haughty yet thoughtful smile spread across his oddly foolish and young features. Wintersleep was reminded heavily of himself, but at so much of a younger age. It was like looking back in time when he still had some sort of pitiful vestiges of his youth and childhood left within him. Now... No, he would not think of that, for such thoughts brought him into a dark place which he did not like, and a great soldier could control such things. Emotions could be petty, they could mar your view of the world and divert you ultimately from the linear track onto which you are set. Runner reminding him of his younger self was just a minor mental setback to him. Runner after all, was more then likely on par with his age anyways. He shook away the mental cobwebs, listening once again now that he was not consumed with his own mind. "For those who cannot fight for themselves. Haha... Tang Soo... You have a way with words Wintersleep Solokov" Sleep nodded slowly and said. "It is a personal goal I stringently strive for." And he watched, carefully and closely, the changes that began to appear in the other wolf, everything mirrored behind his eyes where his mind was moving in thought like a squirming ball of serpents. Always moving. Though relatively the same age, he felt like an old man in the other's presence. He appreciated the vigor and the flame that still existed here and in ways it made it resentful of his own inner fire which he viewed as more of a smoldering ember these days. Perhaps the excitement of the real battle to come would help awaken something, help him feel less out of the loop and inside of the reality of this world. Runner stood up suddenly, squaring out his large feet off beneath him, throwing his hackles and all caution to the wind as he proudly cried out his family name. The pale wolf could not help the goosebumps that leaped up onto his flesh. Though an initial confusion seemed to remain on Runner's face as to Sleep's previous comment on his "father", he chose to ignore it. If Runner had any questions in the future, he felt as though he would most readily answer them and without any hesitation. For in Runner he indeed saw himself. There were those aspects of a missing father figure who was so oddly respected, that they had in common as well.. and the driving goal in their hearts was more then likely very much the same. "I've got the grit, this I know. And I can prove I have the discipline, just as I can my worth to be one of your Warriors." Again the pale behemoth nodded, his feather quivering gaily behind his ears which had slipped back ever so slightly against his skull. A stern look swept across his facade, setting his jaw and muzzle grimly. "Confidence isn't even half of what is required to be a good soldier, though, remember that. Though it is obviously an integral part of it all, and a good start." He turned now towards the forest which fell away at his back, then to the daring waterfall directly to his twelve o'clock. Plans were forming in his mind now, bursting into life like miniature big bangs within the confines of his rather large cranium. "I'd love to get into some big, spectacular speech and welcome you beautifully into the loving bonds of the Warrior's Realm but these days we don't have the time for that." Wintersleep looked Runner directly in the eyes once more. He knew where he wished to place this male, but thought better of assuming on his capabilities. He would see what he could do before he made his assignment and then took Runner Sixx Zarraid to see his mother, the Commander. "What I do ask is you to join me on patrol. We can speak a little more candidly, and I can see what kind of stuff exactly that you're made of." With that he breathed a long, whisp of oxygenated fog off of his lips and turned the full length of his long, powerful body away from the newest recruit. Wintersleep began to descend back down into the forest.

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[The Burning Ruin]

He made sure to point out to me that confidence was only a small part of the needed requirements for being a good warrior, and that was not to be unexpected. Any warrior needed to know confidence, but at the same time they needed much more than that too. He went on to say something about how we where short on time and that was understandable if Natoma's tale of this place was true. He also offered me a chance to join him on patrol to see what skills I had. I quickly fell instep beside him and let him lead.

As time went on I coutinued to wonder what he was talking about when he spoke of my fathers footsteps. Zaratul's path had been something to honor. He'd fallen in with a rebellian type group of wolves who where going somewhere that really shouldn't, and upon seeing what he had reffered to as "the slowly faded light in their souls" he choose to stay and try to save their souls. But in the end Seshafi's paws where to firm on them. He had tried. He had helped a young fea named Rikcalaru through her hard time and raised Natoma to be a man when his birth father wouldn't. I couldn't hold my self back anymore.

"Test me however you will, but first, answer me one question." And a puzzled looked appeared on my face. "What did you mean about not striving to follow Zaratul's footprints? In the end he was a wolf worth his honor wasn't he?" I truly wanted to know.

[Makarov]

[atrb=border,0,true][cs=7][bg=000000] Hmm, for as stoic as Runner could be there was still the light of his wonder and youth shining on through, something Sleep was most definitely lacking if it was even there at all. That light had long crept lower until it was no more then an indistinguishable coal in the back of his strangely hued eyes, those eyes which locked him in between the proverbial Heaven and Hell in an eternal struggle. Though, unlike his mother - not one as nearly as devastating, for the imps inside of his head were underdeveloped yet... Someday they would come, and they would be felt and he would know, as all the wolves of his blood did. It was his curse as well as his gift, what granted him the ability to strive with a power that most wolves his age could hardly know. Runner knew it in some aspects, he had fallen upon tough times, and he had learned crucial lessons as a youngster, but in the ways of experience, well it was safe to say he had very little. No, Runner was not ready to let go of the wolf's statement, it clutched at his heart and drove a question right out of his brain and onto his tongue. Wintersleep, did not much like questions but knew they were inevitable especially when it came to such a sensitive topic as a boy and his father. Even as one who hated the wolf who spawned him he understood in some sour sort of way. Wintersleep diverted to the side, back off of his marked path and turned to look over his shoulder at the wolf following not too far behind him. By now they had been engulfed by the pressed in beauty of the forest rising up all around them, naked trees hardly disturbed by their own nudity, bearing all for every creature to see. "Test me however you will, but first, answer me one question." A soft exhale escaped him. "As you wish." "What did you mean about not striving to follow Zaratul's footprints? In the end he was a wolf worth his honor wasn't he?" Of course, his "Da", he feels I've dishonored his memory with asking such a feat of him. But what Wintersleep had meant by it all had been very clear within his own mind. So he would have to make it clear to Runner exactly what was expected of him in this pack. He turned around fully now so that the bulk of his body faced off with the other male and his two-toned eyes hardened. The Team Leader in him came back, he was the driver of a faction and the wolf all those in his platoon looked to for their orders and their praise. He was only two, but Wintersleep knew a thing or three about what it meant to be a Warrior and the levity it carried. What it meant to be a part of a well-oiled machine where all the pieces fit just right and the cogs turned in unison. "Zaratul was indeed a wolf with noble intentions and a noble mind but he was blinded by his own bias of the world into thinking that every wolf somewhere deep inside wants to be saved. You should knock it into your mind early, Runner Sixx that all wolves are born equal, but we are not all born with the same heart or the same mind. I will not go so far as to say that every wolf with a mind differing from my own is evil, because that is not the Warrior's way. And I will gladly aid even those I find unbecoming, because appearances and rumors do not always speak the truth..." He paused, thinking, taking a breath. "But the mistake Zaratul made ultimately, was doing it on his own and that's not the way we work here. We are a team, we are a family, we are a unit, we are Warrior's and a Warrior's path is never lonely. What I meant overall was that there's no room for rebellious attitudes thinking that, for any reason, they can rush on out ahead and do things on their own, because it could mean the difference between a wound and losing the life of one of your comrades." Again he paused, starting to turn away again. "We work as a team, no lone-wolf, gungho mumbo jumbo here. C'mon." They descended further into the forest, following a sure-fire path down a length of sloping hill in the finely made ruts of a deer's trail.

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[The Burning Ruin]

Live Your Life - T.I. feat. Rihanna

I stayed close behind Wintersleep and stayed alart. One, because I had no idea where I was being taken, and two becauseI had no idea when this "test" would happen, or even what kind. For all I knew this could just simply be a mind game as much as some kind of sneak attack to see how truly good of a wolf I was. Ether way I was in unknown wilderness so... Then the words grazed my ears, and I caught them in a heartbeat because I was also paying close mind to Wintersleep as I quested for some kind of answer.

As you wish.

I paused and gave him my ears as he spoke. He spoke of the wolf my father had been while he was here, which high in site matched up pretty fairly with how I'd known my father. Once he was done I feel silent for a few moments to think heavily on what he'd said. And once I got it, I understood much more clearly now.

Zaratul had vowed to attempt to help all those who he incountered that seemed to need it. It had been the reasons for the creation of The Hostile Takeover and what Sound had called the ways of Ska. He'd saw to not just live of to his name, but reset the scale, and forge a legacy. And most of all he'd hunted for his own inner peace. He managed to achive his goals. He and he alone. And that was the inter point! Its not about having goals and striving for greatness and wanting to help others. My voice was confident that I'd found the answer. "Relying on one another instead of choosing to do everything on your own. Zaratul felt that his challanges where something he had to overcome by himself and thats the path you where talking about." I turned my head just a tad as I gazed outward, as I was looking inside.

Then my eyes returned to his. "I understand now." And with a new found smile I quickly fell back in line with him and continued on. Somethink in my head had clicked and I let my guard done and felt like I'd changed in a single moment. I had some infact. Something in my aditude had changed when I realized just what I was saddling up to here, and I was willing to trust this wolf and who ever I met in this pack. One realization and I felt different. Strang, this world.

[Makarov]

[atrb=border,0,true][cs=7][bg=000000] Realization flooded through Runner's entire being and finally he got it, he knew what was to be expected of him. That he was no longer a single wolf with a single purpose, he was a part of a pack, a single, mechanical unit and the only way the unit ran efficiently was if every part was doing it's assigned duty. Wintersleep's mind worked very much on the level of his father's, though he hated so very much to admit it. But it was that proficient and intelligable energy, that will to make everyone feel like the needed and genuine crucial part to the machine built. For indeed they all were. Maybe Dragunov himself did not agree with that, maybe his own motives were driven to prey upon the desires of others and their need to be a part of something, but that's not what he was doing here. No not at all, he was beyond that on the scale of honor and could never do something to besmirch the reputation he had gained around the Isle. "I understand now." I sure hope you do, friend. I sure hope you do. It would have been a pretty dire response, and so Sleep opted to go with something that was a little less of a bring down. " I'm glad it's easy for you to see that," he said very simply, very plainly. Their movement dragged them on and on through the forested areas and eventually Wintersleep's patrol path broke away from that of the deer ruts and they found themselves over the thick-crusted snow, trying their hardest not to punch through the icy surface where they could be hindered by the softer snow beneath. For such large creatures of such bearish bulk they seemed to glide effortlessly over the white element, their large, splayed paws acting as natural snow-shoes and the little hairs between their toes keeping out the stinging bite of the cold. Here and there Wintersleep would throw up silent body signals that most nature-born wolves would recognize immediately, careful to see how well Runner could read them. Sometimes a battle depended heavily on keeping quiet, not letting your position be known to the enemy. Sleep came to a stop just a little ahead of Runner, his pace slowing gradually before it halted altogether and his head shot up, ears erect and pointed forward before they angled just a millimeter towards the right. Something just ahead and to the right, this motion said. He fixed his eyes on the spot, trying to get a visual but it was the smell that came first and had warned him. It was a confusing mix of wolf and deer, the scent of anxiety and sweat, also of excitement. But what was it? Just a few seconds later there was an explosion of movement and a distressed bellowing bugle as a female elk came stampeding up the slope. Blood slopped from wounds lacerating almost every inch of it's body, and based on just the smell, she was old and weak as it was. But with a resounding brilliance she came charging headlong at the two males, blind with her fear. Wintersleep was ready and with a strange swiftness he threw himself out of the elk doe's rampage path and hopefully Runner would follow. She thundered on by, leaving flecks of blood and frantic score-marks in the snow with her hooves. Wintersleep, whom had thrown himself onto his side, was getting up, shaking the white stuff out of his coat. With his teeth drawn and his hackles flying he gazed up the ridge where the elk had disappeared in a hurry. Nothing moved like that unless there was a predator hot in pursuit and well.. as soon as he spotted her, the Team Leader was already regretting even thinking about it. He felt as though he had conjured that sickly, glowing white presence that was his sister. Twilight Heaven, a wolf of large and elegant make with a crystal clear white pelt tarnished only by the blood of the animal she had been harassing, came sauntering over the rise next in direct line of the path of the elk. But her pace was more leisurely and the blood smeared across her blithely grinning features spoke of the fun she had been having. Crimson eyes gazed across the distance and trees directly at Wintersleep, and he stared back. His hackles did not sit back down. "Why are you stopping, Twi? A prey-beast not exciting enough for you now that you've tasted the blood of your kin?" His words were stony, gritted, yet remarkably not harsh. Then he added. "Why the fuck are you here?" "Hah, now how good a sister would I be if I was in the area and didn't stop by to see my darling sibling?" crooned the white wolf with her sinister red eyes alight. "I only stumbled upon you by pure accident but how fortunate eh? I'm only here because she was here," she jerked her head towards the ridge over which the elk had disappeared. "But seems like you guys let her get away. Butterclaws, the two of ya." She didn't come much closer and the three remained in standoff positions, but the scar on her chest was as evident as the daylight all slathered in blood like it was. A triskel scar.

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