Definition of Danger [Open to Elysians]

[Scáth]

[bg=100000][atrb=border,0,table][atrb=width,450,table][color= Scáth was reasonably sure that he was going to be killed. Either by the still-wrathful Doberman back in Metnal, or by a mob of man-loving extremists. But the Dutch Shepherd had never strayed into Elysian territory before, and after a hunting and patrolling for several hours - yes, the black-brindle was actually working today - boredom had got the better of him. It wasn't anything to do with the half-blinded coyote whose life he'd saved. The fact that he'd dragged her two dead companions here by himself, all the way from Devil's Ridge, was complete coincidence. The Dutch Shepherd just didn't want to pass their decomposing remains every day until only the bones and the staring skulls were left, that was all. He wasn't going out of his way for the Elysians so that they could get a chance to properly mourn and bury their fallen comrades, of course not. That would imply that Scath cared. Which he didn't. He was just bored. Really. The Dutch Shepherd paused to slake his thirst at the stream; he was panting heavily with the exertion of dragging two adult canines - neither of which weighed much less than him - cross-country under the burning glare of the midday sun, and gladly sank down in the shade with his haul. The stench of death that came from the Akita and the Shepherd mix didn't sicken him; he'd had the scent clogging up his nostrils for the entire journey. However, their stillness and distinct pack scent made him keep his distance as he rested, not ten feet inside the Elysian border. He probably would have to wait a while before any canine showed up; the place looked deserted enough, though being part-way up the hillside meant that he didn't really have the advantage of height. Certainly he had no intention of leaving the corpses unattended in strange surroundings, because as twistedly amusing as it was to imagine a wolverine gorging on the dead dogs' entrails before the horrified Elysian members, it was also disrespectful to not bring the deceased to their pack in one piece. Because Scáth was just all about respect. Hm... He seemed to be in a rather satirical mood today.

[•Caela•]

[bg=666666][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i302/PittyLova/caelamiddle.gif] Patrolling. It was all that she had done lately. Watching the lands for intruders, but more so searching for the sign of another Elysian member. Searching for anybody. Life as a loner made her miserable, being a pack animal was engraved deep within her soul hence her joining the family that resided here. Yet it had been weeks since her last encounter with even a fresh scent of a pack mate. She barely slept maybe with an hour or so doze here and there. Something within her was haunting the alabaster fae to move forward, to continue her journey around the perimeter of the claimed lands. This was her third circle and it was nearing the end. A slight odor of blood wafted about her as she had nearly worn the protective pads of her paws down to nothing, the gray calluses split where they still existed. As she rose over the crest of the hill that nearly lined the border of her home lands and those free for all the putrid stench of rotting flesh filled her nasal cavities. At first it was assumed that a deer or other creature had met it's end through the hunting of another animal, a broken leg, or some other mishap. Yet upon another breeze several new, more distinct scents found their way toward the wolfess. Death. Elysian. Metnal. A pair of rounded triangles stood to attention, ice blue orbs rounding in surprise. Part of the fae was ecstatic to take in the scent of the pack once more, yet most of her being knew what she would find. A wary gaze scanned below her perch upon the green hill not taking very long to find the strange brute resting and the bodies. Brows dipped in concern, wrinkles forming upon her velveteen canvas. Pistons engaged descending her thin bodice over the terrain. A thick banner lay neatly behind her, resting between two pointed hocks. The graceful motion ended as the reality of the fate of her comrades hit her. It was as if she had walked into an invisible wall, taking the pure wolfess back a single step. Her skull fell even with sloping shoulders, auds laying back simply staring in horror at the shepherd mix and akita that lay lifeless. A soft whine slowly traveled from her larynx paying no mind to the intruder. His presence was unimportant to her, even if he may have been the one to end the lives of her family. Her family was all that had now mattered.

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[Scáth]

[bg=100000][atrb=border,0,table][atrb=width,450,table] The baking heat of midday refused to relent; even in the shade the Dutch Shepherd's black-brindle coat was uncomfortably warm. He made another brief trip to the stream to drink, and after some hesistance waded in to lie in the shallows for a couple of minutes. The cool water was pleasant, and by the time he returned to his post Scáth was reasonably refreshed. Still, there was no sign of any Elysian mutts. From the vague scent markers Scath could only assume that they had either all gone into hiding for some reason, or were far fewer in numbers than they'd like other packs to believe. The Dutch Shepherd was inclined to believe the latter. He was upwind of the Elysian, so he did not sense her presence until her soft whine reached his ears. Scáth wearily lifted his head off his paws, his dark burgundy gaze taking in the pale, slender female who stared in horror at her deceased packmates. I'm sorry, he was mildly tempted to say. I tried to save them. But that was untrue. His jaws had killed off the male mongrel, and he'd smoothly moved his leader out of the way so that Typhoon could take down the female Akita. The only life he'd managed to save was the now half-blind coyote, and he didn't even know whether she'd survived to reach her home territory or not. Certainly he'd noticed one thing, which troubled him slightly. "... Are you alone? " Perhaps a slightly creepy thing to hear from any unfamiliar male, let alone a scarred, reputably unpredictable dog like himself, but for now Scáth was not interested in playing mind games. The Dutch Shepherd simply wanted the cold hard facts. " There was another one with these two; a coyote. I saw her escape. Did she make it back?" It wasn't that he felt anything for the lone female in front of him; he didn't feel guilty over watching her young packmate writhe under his manically snarling leader, and he didn't feel concern over watching that packmate flee with that marred, bloodied face across unfamiliar territory. Scáth just didn't want to return to find yet another broken body on Metnal turf that needed dealing with. And his packmates thought he slacked off work... The Dutch Shepherd worked harder than they knew.

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[crow]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,true] The coyote searched for the healer, Caela. She'd washed off part of her wounds, yet most of them were still spurting blood. She was closer, the coyote could tell, the scent of Elysian's healer came to her snout at least five times while walking around. As she neared, she could hear the voices, yet not clear enough to make out, yet it sounded familiar, heck, it smelt familiar. Something of the scents reminded her of such things. Crow neared even farther, going ahead into to the river to clean herself off again. She looked a bit better, staring at the reflection in a still spot, yet her eye bled a little, she couldn't even see on it anymore. What a pity. Her sides hurt, as the coyote checked over the large wound. No bone, no internal organs. That was a good thing, yet it stung so badly. Crow felt terrible, with two pack mates gone, it felt as if a spear was driven into her very soul. She didn't even get to say goodbye to Toriety really. It was the stench of Scath that made her worry suddenly. " There was another one with these two; a coyote. I saw her escape. Did she make it back?" Why the hell would he care? Of all of the questions he'd ask, the coyote would expect more of a dangerous question. Yet only then, the coyote wasn't even sure of Scath had been carrying the bodies of her pack mates.walking forward, now as quietly as the paws can, Crow carefully made her way to them, yet she couldn't see them. Her scent had been washed off in the river, and besides the coyote was upwind anyway,she'd be eavesdropping yes, but it wouldn't matter in the first place. IC puppet::Crow Word Count:: Voices be heard::...

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[•Caela•]

[bg=666666][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i302/PittyLova/caelamiddle.gif] The air rushing into her lungs became much more shallow as realization seeped into her soul. Without regard for her own safety motion began once more, dainty paws navigating her to the bodies of the akita and shepherd mix. As if she were unable to believe that they were truly gone the healer's moist nose gently touched Nuclear's neck, pressing gently into the once soft scruff. Auds and eyes scanned the deceased male praying for any sign of life before both transferred to Toriety. They were both gone. Long gone from the looks of things. The Metnal brute's voice struck her attention, interrupting her tunneled vision so sharply that it sounded like he was shouting with his paw pressed against her radars. Shades closed tightly, the skin flaps creasing while the wolfess winced away from the sound of his words, "... Are you alone? " Lids opened to reveal icy blue optics shadowed by the pain wrenching the alabaster femme's heart, they simply stared at the scarred dog for a long moment before her tiara dipped in a nod in response to his question. Surely, she was alone. She hadn't seen another in weeks. A loner had not even crossed her path until this moment. Was this her own fate? It would seem an easier thing, to find death here instead of living every day knowing that every single canine from both of your lives, and the one that came into her life inbetween, were gone. Left her alone. His next question caught her off guard. There was a coyote? A survivor? Gaze scanned the small valley below them before yet another hill rose from the earth wondering if it was true. If there really was even one left. An angelic whisper questioned seemingly none other then the air, "Crow? She could be alive?" Crow was the only coyote to call these lands home, and no loner would have followed these two Elysian dogs to their death. Caela fell back upon a well furred bottom, a narrowed gaze shooting toward the Metnal shepherd. The look was not one of judgment nor anger, yet an expression that held deep thought and concern. "I am afraid she has not returned home. I have been rounding these borders for weeks without a sign of her." Now the question remained if she should go seek the coyote or wait here patiently for her to return.

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[Scáth]

[bg=000000][atrb=border,0,table][atrb=width,380,table] As the she-wolf approached, with eyes only for her fallen packmates, Scáth stayed where he was. As the Elysian touched her nose to the deceased male's scruff so tenderly and sorrowfully, however, the Dutch Shepherd rose to his feet and limped off to the side to distance himself from her silent goodbyes. He was already intruding on her territory; Scáth was not so disrespectful as to taint another's grieving with his unwelcomed presence. The only reason he did not head back to Metnal lands right away was because his questions had yet to be answered. The lack of canine inhabitance in the area was a possible cause for concern, when one took into consideration the fact that the pack's numbers had never been particularly high to begin with. If this female and the coyote were the only current members, then the Elysian pack was no longer a pack. Two lone females on the otherwise empty lands would be extremely vulnerable to attack, particularly if Erida decided to expand her borders. The white female's nod in response to his first query interrupted this flow of thought, but only backed up the uneasy theorising of the scarred Metnal beta. The prospect of the coyote having not made it back was stronger than ever, but this did not bother him as much as one would have expected. "Crow? She could be alive?" Crow the coyote. Scáth felt his trademark crooked grin pull at his lips, that symbol of his instability threatening to bubble over and regain control of his muzzle once more, and managed to control it with mild irritation at the inconvenience it posed. The white Elysian before him seemed oblivious to his changing personna as she sat back and addressed him with surprising sincerity. Where was the disgust? Where was the fear? Where was the hate? "I am afraid she has not returned home. I have been rounding these borders for weeks without a sign of her." "...Hm... You either missed her, or she missed you, or she doesn't want to be found. Or I'm about to return home to find yet another corpse to carry over." Scáth's ears twitched slightly, reflexively, at some unknown sound; he listened, and discreetly scented the air, but caught nothing. A subtle sweep of his surroundings with those burgundy irises of his, however, indicated that there was something approaching from above. Scáth had spied the sillhouette out of his range of vision as he'd casually turned his head to gaze off down the valley for a moment, and deliberately refrained from looking at it now as his gaze returned to the white female before him. It was enough to have seen that the coyote had made it back after all.

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[crow]

A smell of a corpse caught the coyote's attention, as she tried to see who it was, but before it had even she even tried to steal a glance, a dread began to seep through her stomach. The sweet smell of a familiar figure was almost indistinguishable from the strong scent of the dead and rotting. Crow knew it was the Akita who had been protective of her while that coming over to Metnal. She realized another thing as if there was Toriety, their was Nuclear. Her chest stung once again as how welcoming the Elysian Pack was, even though she wasn't a domestic dog. For a moment, she felt something staring at her way, but then it quickly dissapeared as quickly as it happened.

A small 'huff' escaped from her mouth as Crow began to emerged from the bushes. Her mouth was in a frown, as the coyote's usable eye gazed distantly at the corpses or her once friend. Of course, her blind eye had almost stop bleeding, yet it was now slightly visible. A white-ish, blue-ish hue was now the color of that useless eye. Nevertheless, it was injured not only in the optics, but the skin above it as well. Crow had noticed the wolf next to her, but said nothing. Metnal's warrior was here also, as expected. A hardened face stood upon the coyote's haunches, as she only stared straight at the dead bodies of the once freinds.

[•Caela•]

[bg=666666][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i302/PittyLova/caelamiddle.gif] Many often questioned Caela's way of being. She was quite possibly one of the most forgiving and welcoming faes to have ever stepped paw upon the Elysian Territory. Several of those she had encountered silently questioned whether the white wolfess was truly so pure and kind, or if the coldness that seemed to touch all at least in situation such as these had been wiped away with her memories. Was it confusion making her mind and emotion as pale as the thick pelt the wolfess adorned? It was not even a question the femme could answer about herself. Pale irises the hue of arctic waters found themselves attached to the enemy's burning optics. Could the two be any more different in appearance? One marred and burning as if he had emerged from the underworld, the other the image of pureness, an angel sent from above. None of this mattered to Caela. Soft brows began to pull together, felt lined receptors honing into the very sound of the Dutch Shepherd's being, his words slowly bringing forth the reality that she quite possibly could be alone once again. A flash of controlled worry sparked across feminine features, leaving just as quickly as it had appeared. It would not be the first time she was left alone. It would most likely not be the last. Her gaze trailed back toward the two deceased pack members, ribs expanded only to contract in the form of a soft sigh, "why?" Through her single worded question her position never faltered forcing the inquiry to remain open ended. Why did he bring them back? Why did they have to die? What caused this? Why would crow not come home if she were alive? Why did he care so much about the situation upon the Elysian lands? The last question running through her mind forced her skull to snap to a level position, optics finding the Metnal dog. Through her wonderment of what business he felt he had here with Caela or the Elysian lands began to trickle to the forefront of her mind the slightly off four beat sound of a walk caught her attention. First one radar swiveled to the rear, her crown following after to see the most welcomed image of crow despite the horrid condition she returned home in. Gray lips pulled back in a gentle smile, her eyes lighting up as the expression reflected within them. An inky digit gently touched the juvenile coyote's shoulder blade in a soft welcome. The condition she was in was not nearly as important as the fact that she had returned home at all. Luckily for Crow the one other remaining member happened to be the alabaster wolfess, the healer of the pack. For a moment the fact that the brindled brute had even found his way in her presence was forgotten.

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