private with phoenix

Hallow yelps in pain as teeth sink into the back of its neck and claws score along its flank. That really wasn't one of the brightest ideas it'd ever had, it thinks ruefully. It lets itself go limp and rolls onto its back, trying to dislodge reddish brown but it can't get free. Ink dark blood splatters across the ground, staining what little shrubbery still survives.

A firm voice rings out through the air, and the other wolf finally gets off of Hallow. Gray—Julia—introduces herself and reddish brown—Insight. Julia asks for a name. It will not speak, so it tilts its head and stares, offering her a helpless look.

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Roc is wheeling high above the clouds, higher than anyone else in her pack as ever been and reveling in it. Here, she can feel the sun on her skin and a playful breeze ruffling her fur. Here, she can pretend that the past few weeks haven't happened, if only for a little while. She mustn't forger her duty, though. A howl splits the air, the notes lilting and oddly eerie. Ah, it must be Hallow then, the one she was sent to find. With a sigh filled with longing, Roc dives back down to rejoin her rain-soaked brethren.

She lands gracefully atop a tree, its slight branches barely bending under her weight. Roc scans the fog with sharp eyes (useful to a predator wheeling high above the earth) to see the fighting shapes of another wolf and what is unmistakably Hallow. Immediately, she launches into flight, the weight of the rain on her feathers dragging her down until her wings catch the wind just right and she soars, ready to leap to Hallow's defense with bared teeth and swiping claws if necessity demands.

It turns out that upon further observation, none of that will be needed. A gray wolf intervenes and breaks the two up, looking to Hallow to ask a question it can't answer. Roc catches their names as she lights down several paces away, always far enough to take flight from any danger. Her ragged black wings fold and though they are still magnificent, any onlooker could tell that they've seen better days.

"It's name is Hallow," she says in lieu of a greeting. "I am Roc." And then, minding her manners, "It's nice to meet you."

Roc surveys Insight and Julia with open curiosity as Hallow retreats to lick his wounds.

"We haven't met anyone else still living," she ventures. It isn't quite obvious if you're not looking, but she's positioned slightly in front of Hallow, between it and Insight and Julia.

Roc blinks in surprise, idly rearranging her paws neatly under her. It's a nervous habit but one more on the discreet side. It only looks like she's shifting to stand more comfortably. Hallow hauls itself to its feet, stepping gingerly forward to stand beside her. Blood rolls down the side of its neck and steadily drip drip drips to the ground, joining the rain in its mournful tempo. It tilts its head at Insight, trying to prompt her to go on.

"A dream, you say?" Roc murmurs softly, more to herself than anyone else. "So your pack has gifts as well?"

Roc nods and shakes herself both in attempt to seem more casual and to rid herself of some of the water clinging to her pelt. The latter decidedly does not work.

"Yes, exactly that. They're things that set us apart from normal wolves or let us do strange things."

As she talks, Hallow creeps forward and gently bumps his nose to Insight's in apology. Now that it's thinking about it, seeing a stranger with possibly hostile intentions hurtling after your packmate could be scary. It pulls away and with a gentle tug, it's standing with Roc again, who stumbles a bit and blinks several times as if to reorient herself. She nips at its shoulder in reprimand, then gives a gentle lick to its injury.

"Be mindful of using your gift around others" she chastises with no real heat behind the words.

She turns her attention back to Julia and addresses her directly.

"I understand. Our pack is incredibly precious to us too, and I don't know how I'd react either if any of them were to get hurt. That being said, is there anything we can do?"

Roc dips her head in acquiescence and spreads her wings, shaking them slightly in a vain attempt to dispel the uncomfortable feeling of wet feathers before taking to the skies. Hallow moves to follow her then pauses, casting one last glance back towards the pair. The world almost seems to flicker and it is gone before they can blink.

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The rain comes down heavy and hard at the mouth of the cave high up on the mountain that Tolle Fuga is occupying. Timber lays curled around Lorikeet and Woodpecker, the pups huddled up against each other to try to preserve body heat. Lorikeet lifts her head from where it's buried under the mass of his fur.

"They're going to come back safe, you know."

The old wolf smiles gently down at her.

"Mm. I can't say I'm not worried, but I'm certain that they will."

Morrow pads towards the three, movements steady but stiff. She carefully settles down next to Timber, sandwiching the pups between them. She yawns, then gives an affectionate lick to his greying muzzle, draping her tail gently over his to cradle Woodpecker.

"You have a lot of faith in them, love. You've made such a good leader over the years, and you've raised the little ones right."

Her voice is filled with fondness. The rest of the pack surrounds them, and their warm presences make the oppressive darkness of the days seem just a lighter.

—

Caladrius sits at the mouth of the cave, scanning the fog for any approaching wolf. Occasionally, he stands and paces to the other side and back then takes his post again. He shoots a sidelong glance at his friend Yatagarasu, Tolle Fuga's other scout. Scouts are all but useless in this weather, but Timber's put their sharp eyes and keen ears to use in looking out for returning or leaving pack members.

"Was it just me or did you hear that too?"

The two are quite for a moment, ears pricked and alert to listen for the slightest sound over the rain. There it was again, the almost inaudible flap of wings much larger to be those of a bird. A moment later, Roc lands in front of the pair, regal as ever, and offers them a slight grin. Hallow appears a few paces away, shaking itself. The rain is sliding off his fur again, like water from a duck's feathers. It blinks at them once, then bounds delightedly forward and drops to a quick play bow as a hello.

The four share a few quick words (not exactly on Hallow's part) and Hallow and Roc leave to talk to Timber. Halfway there, Hallow is ambushed by his hunting party and promptly buried under a pile of wagging tails and happy greetings. Roc watches them with a fond huff before turning to Timber.

"My lord, Hallow and I met another pack while we were out. They reside higher up on the other side of the mountain. What would you have me do?"

Timber hauls himself slowly to his paws, shifting into a sitting position.

"They don't seem like a threat from your lack of urgency, so you can take whatever measure you deem best." He offers her a warm smile. "You are going to be the next leader, after all. It will be good practice."

—