Shemira | 4 Years Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Hunter | Weimaraner
Location: Camp | Mentions: All, Frost, Polaris, Quinn

Shemira lifted her gaze from the cooling cadaver, ear twitching as the light click of claws against concrete alerted her to an approaching presence. A glance confirmed the identity of the culprit: Polaris — a fellow hunter, though hardly part of the cynical, jaded crowd Shemira was used to interacting with. In the past, she found had him somewhat tolerable (although this was no doubt due to his subservient, easily exploitable demeanor, in all honesty). It was only because of this, instead of snapping sharp, deadly incisors in Polaris' general direction, Shemira let herself shift ever-so-slightly to allow the comparatively much smaller dog room to stand.

She turned her head to the side, observing the Border Collie with a heavy-lidded stare. Their eyes met, and she held his gaze evenly until he spoke. "I have my suspicions," she murmured in reply, twisting her skull back towards the corpse, letting the words hang heavy in the air. She offered no explanation, instead choosing to subtly curl her lip at Wind, the beta, for her atrocious display of weakness, silently wondering how her behavior was in any way befitting of someone of her status.

Shemira shifted dark eyes again in the direction of Cole. For a moment, she pondered that chances of him being the murderer, before dismissing it without a second thought. He didn't have the scars that one would undoubtedly carry after taking down one of Axel's size and strength, nor the coppery scent of spilled blood.

Silver ears perked as her own name came from the alpha's lips. The steel-colored hound stood slowly, docked tail twitching behind her in stiff, short strokes as she stalked over to where Polaris and Quinn already stood. Arriving just in time to hear the tail end of Polaris' inquiry, she gave Quinn time to get her word in, taking the moment to observe the corpse that lie at their paws with an indiscernible stare that hid well-concealed disgust and trepidation.

"...You may be onto something," the Weimaraner began, managing to keep her voice level while glancing in Polaris' direction. "If there was more than one killer, it might be easier to locate them. More dogs mean more of a trace to follow." Of course, it also made it all the harder to bring them to justice — a fact Shemira didn't voice. "It would also narrow down the possibilities. If this was a group's doing, it could be Raven up to her old tricks, a scavenger's group, or..." she hesitated, lips peeling into a snarl, "...the Red Willow."

After a pause, she continued darkly. "But, of course, that all depends on what we find at the scene. For all we know, it could very well be only one dog."

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Torak | 5 Years Old | Male | Red Willow Subordinate | Indigenous Himalayan Mastiff
Location: Camp | Mentions: Xander, Akia

Torak smiled lopsidedly at Akia, accepting her grunt as an answer rather than a dismissal, and prepared to turn to Xander for his reply when before Thunder spoke — the booming voice that made his namesake ringing clear for all to listen. His ears flattened at the mention of the Fallen Ashes; he wondered if the savages would truly be brave enough to venture into the Red Willow's own lands, before dismissing the notion quickly. Of course they would — hell, with the proper reinforcements, Torak would do the same. At this point, he could only hope that they wouldn't. (A fool's dream, not that he would ever admit so.)

He followed the German Shepherd Mix and Scottish Deerhound to their destination, nose low to the ground furiously sniffling for any trace of the lone pup. He shortly split from the duo by Xander's orders, raking through bushes and winding around trees without pause, head swerving every which way to perhaps catch sight of the pup. The foliage grew thicker the further out he ventured, and Torak found himself having to slow to double, even triple check the brush for anything he may have missed.

When he had cleared the area with no scent of Oliver to be found, the black and tan subordinate trotted back to the meeting place, eyes forlorn and nostrils flaring slightly. "I found nothing on my end either," he spoke at last with a rumbling murmur, shooting an apologetic glance to each of the pair in turn. His ears pressed flat against his head. "I agree with Akia. Any scent we find here will just be drowned out by those from our packmates."

Frost | 4 Years, 6 Months Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Alpha | Pharaoh Hound/Doberman Pinscher Mix
Location: Camp-City Streets | Mentions: Polaris, Quinn, Shemira

The inquiry Polaris proposed saw Frost pause just outside the factory's entrance, a rush of blinding light from the dawn sun casting a long shadow across the concrete floor. As she watched the dark shape of her outline stretch through the camp, an abrupt sensation of dread enveloped her. Suddenly Frost could see it all, a flash of images behind her eyes. Gaping mouths filled with razor-sharp teeth, thick saliva falling like rain from the beasts snapping maws. The vision faded as quickly as it appeared, but Frost's gaze remained unfocused and terrified.

Shaking her head vigorously, Frost chased away the last remnants of her vision, offering no explanation regarding her odd behavior. They would never believe her. She wasn't quite sure she even believed herself. It wasn't the first time Frost received such an ominous hallucination, but it was easier to explain away the phenomena as the result of an aging mind. "You could be right," she replied, at last, voice gruff. "The tears on his throat were different sizes. Perhaps evidence many mouths participated in this bloody affair."

She merely offered a non-committal grunt in response to Quinn's observation of scavengers, though Shemira's suggestion that perhaps Raven or Red Willow was behind their troubles seemed to get the gears in her head turning once more. "Red Willow doesn't have the balls," she scoffed. "Their hearts are too soft." She found it hard to believe Thunder or any of his namby-pamby packmates were capable of such unspeakable savagery, though she supposed it would be foolish to count them out entirely.

"Raven, however...perhaps she's managed to acquire a pack after all. If this investigation leads to nothing we will seek her out," Frost growled, her teeth itching to sink into the larger female's white splashed throat and stain it red with blood. It wasn't much longer after that they made it back to the location of Axel's demise. A pool of his life essence still painted the cobbled sidewalk crimson, tufts of black and tan fur blown into the street by a gentle breeze.

"Spread out, see what you can find," she ordered, pausing beside the blood pool and catching a hint of her reflection within its depths. Her sense of smell was rather weak. She didn't trust herself to pick up anything substantial but still lowered her head until her pale pink nose nearly touched stone, breathing deeply for a scent, any scent. Her followers must never know about her failing senses. They would surely dispose of her quicker than a rotten piece of prey. She simply risk it.

HINT FOR: Quinn
As you return to the area where you found Axel's body, you seek out the fox scent you detected the last time you were here. It's still fairly strong, and you notice the trail seems to double-back on itself as if the creature left in a hurry. The scent is trackable.

HINT FOR: Polaris
You notice a scent that seems awfully strange. You've never smelled anything like it before. It seems to be fading, but you may still be able to follow it.

HINT FOR: Shemira
While sniffing in search of scents, you find a few strands of odd fur. They're a light grayish-cream color and seem to be marked by darker pigments in certain areas. You've never seen a dog around like that before.

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━

Ruby | 1 Year Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Trainee | Pitbull
Location: Camp | Mentions: Cole, Ciel

The warmth of Ciel's side against her own combined with Cole's gentle eyes managed to quell the last tremors still wracking her frame, a sense of calm instantly falling over her between the presence of these kind dogs. Ruby could feel some of her typical enthusiasm for life making a rapid turn, but her voice was still somewhat subdued as she asked, "where should we start first?" It seemed the majority of their packmates were already preoccupied or too upset to offer up their participation, and Ruby privately wondered if three dogs really would be enough with a ferocious killer on the loose.

Despite Cole's joking tone, Ruby's anxious golden gaze rose to meet his as they walked. "What should we do if we see something? I know Frost said to confront any strangers, but what if they're too strong? The creature that killed Axel...it couldn't really have been another dog, could it?" She fretted, her mind suddenly leaping to the hybrid who lived in the burned portion of the city. Mite had proven aggressive in the past, and he was quite tall...but the odd male was rather lanky in comparison to Axel. Could he have done that much damage on his own?

"D-do you think we should go talk to Mite? O-or Raven?" She asked, recalling the Cane Corso had also proven rather pesky in the past. "Oh, maybe I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, but don't they seem like the most likely culprits?"

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Thunder | 6 Years Old | Male | Red Willow Guardian | Tibetan Mastiff
Location: Camp | Mentions: Keys, Maculoses

Keys' polite voice shook Thunder from his despairing thoughts, his warm brown gaze lowering to stare into the youthful subordinate's hopeful face. He could see she wouldn't be content staying in camp and nodded his broad head in approval. "Yes, you may-" Before he could finish, Mac joined them, an anxious inquiry spilling from the spotted healer. Thunder hesitated, tongue swiping across his muzzle in uncertainty. The notion hadn't gone unconsidered, but somehow he doubted Fallen Ashes were behind this. "It's a possibility," he admitted, "but it appears they have their own troubles to occupy them. If we don't find Oliver, of course, we will ask for permission to search for him in the city. I'm sure even Frost wouldn't deny a pup help."

He could see that Maculoses was apprehensive and antsy, she wanted just as much as every other dog to be out there searching, as did he himself. Was it fair to keep her cooped up here? As if reading his thoughts, Vervain spoke up, his voice soft, but insistent. "I can remain here in case anyone finds the pup and brings him home, let them go search if it helps ease their minds" he offered. Thunder thought on the suggestion for a moment before nodding to the fox gratefully. "Very well. Mac and Keys, go on and join the patrol in the woods. If you find nothing there, move on to the rest of the park and be certain to check around the lake. Once again I'll remind you if you see anything strange return to camp and report to me. Don't take any unnecessary risks."

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Xander | 3 Years Old | Male | Red Willow Subordinate | Scottish Deerhound
Location: Camp-Woods | Mentions: Akia, Torak, Keys, Maculoses

Ruefully, Xander continued to scent the trampled earth for any hint of Oliver, but just like companions turned up empty-pawed. "You're right," he relented once Akia announced they should begin searching beyond the camp's borders, Torak voicing his agreement as well. "Scents will be clearer once we're in the woods." He halted near the edge of the trees once he spotted Mac and Keys heading their way, hazel eyes narrowing sharply. Mac was alright, but he was less than thrilled with Keys attendance. Though only seven months older he found the slightly younger dog immature and irksome.

"I suppose Thunder told you to come along with us?" He questioned, prepared to send her away should Keys suggest otherwise, alas, it seemed their leader had indeed assigned the excitable pitsky to their patrol. "Very well…" he muttered once she confirmed his suspicions. "Make sure you behave. This is very serious. There isn't any time for your typical silliness," he warned before jerking away and plunging into the underbrush. He spared only a few seconds for his packmates to catch up before setting to work.

Frustration began to creep under his pelt when all he could pick up was the recent scent of Thunder and Vervain. They must have passed this way only moments ago. "He won't be this way. Thunder and Vervain would have seen or scented him otherwise," he grunted, loud enough for the others to hear him. Backtracking and heading down the opposite trail, once again he caught nothing beyond stale scents and wildlife. How could any dog simply disappear without leaving a trace like this?

Had something carried him off? Wouldn't they have picked up on that by now? A wolf or coyote wouldn't possibly be able to escape their notice for long, nor would an unfamiliar dog...this whole thing was terribly, unnervingly *strange*. "Please tell me at least one of you smells *something*?"

HINT FOR: Keys
As you join the patrol in the woods, you spot a patch of fur caught on a nearby bramble bush. The fur is a rusty brown, grizzled gray-black near the tip. You can't recall ever seeing hair like this before, and the scent isn't one you recognize, but it seems to be another sort of canine at the very least.

Quinn | 3 Years, 2 Months | Female | Fallen Ashes Fighter | Doberman Pinscher Rottweiler Mix
Location: Camp | Mentions: Frost

There were a lot of things Quinn didn’t quite like. Sticky things, others in her space, failure… and, adding a new one to a still-growing list, was the terror that blazed in the eerie eyes of her Alpha. Cognac eyes had darted about the female as if looking for a wound that hadn’t manifested. But, once the episode had ended, Quinn began to flank her at a respectful distance as they advanced to the scene. It took her entire being to keep her eyes ahead of her and on the task at paw, rather than to glance back to Frost or question her. At the risk of her coat, no doubt.

They made it to the blood-stained scene in one piece and without much trouble, with Quinn listening intently to the possibilities thrown about without heeding any feedback. Raven was not someone she enjoyed. In fact, she’d be happy to shred her to ribbons and use them to decorate her throat in some macabre fashion. Alas, she forced herself to focus on finding leads rather than to think of ways to enact justice on someone other than those responsible. She split off at the scene without much prompting, nose brushing the ground as she sought out the wild-smelling vermin. Anything to distract herself from the pool of drying blood that lay nearby.

As she moved in a disciplined fashion, her mind wandered. Frost was right about the Red Willow. They were much more… soft. Quinn once would have preferred to call them civilized, but at the rise of dangers and the lack of resources there was no need for civility. It was a weakness they couldn’t bear to risk, lest they rapidly approach death. They live in a city that doesn’t let weakness live, and there was no time for voting, discussion, or mercy. Only action. So, once they found who was responsible, she hoped whomever they worshiped offered them mercy, because they would find none within her. Or her pack.

And boy, did she hope it was Raven. They’d make quick work of that bitch.

A volt of recognition ripped her from her fury-filled thoughts and she instantly began to follow the feral scent she knew from the hours of fighting to get the charred masters and mistresses out of the city. She gave no call, simply following the scent as if it were some kind of salvation, her paws near silent as she worked her way to wherever it was to lead her. The damn thing seemed to have left quickly rather than stay for a snack. She hoped the little fox had something to offer her, the hope in her heart feeling like a bundle of jagged metals in her chest, leaden with guilt and a thirst for justice.



Akia | 2 Years | Female | Red Willow Subordinate | German Shepherd Mix
Location: Camp | Mentions: Xander, Torak, Mac, Keys

Akia nodded at the agreement to her suggestion and began to make for a new area, beyond the threshold of their camp. She almost missed the appearance of the healer and a certain Pitsky, but the Deerhound’s inquiry made her pause mid-stride, sunlit brown eyes darting to the excitable dog with a hint of derision. She didn’t believe it was a task for a pup-like mutt. Torak, Xander, and even Mac could easily cover ground and work effectively, their attention toned and zeroed in. And Keys was just… hyper. Lacked order, planning, deftness. Akia was out looking for a pup, and would rather not watch over one. Still, the dog did have her redeeming qualities, and Akia was banking on those said qualities.

Akia only dipped her head to the healer that joined them and bounded through the brush like a fresh-faced doe, a certain buzz in her paws and a dead calm that hung around her like a fog. Unlike Xander, she didn’t wait. Perhaps lacking manners, but she didn’t see any advantage gained from doing so, so she blazed her own trail about the area, seeming to have some passive rhythm, or method she had calculated for the terrain and her companions.

Still, despite her zeal and stark clarity, she came up with nothing. Not even a whiff for her time. The stillness she possessed before they intruded further into the foliage seemed to crack delicately, forking into a thin form of ruin at a curl of her lip and a bitter glare. She rounded about her claimed area once, twice, thrice, before meeting back up with Xander, her grim eyes darting from Torak’s position to settle upon the chaotic coat of the Deerhound and answered him with a sharp shake of her head. “There’s no way that not one dog could find a trail. No whelp is smart enough to know how to trick noses, and there’s certainly no scent of some enemy within camp.” She shook her head, her ivory teeth greeting the blinding sun. “What’re you thinking, Xander? Any ideas?” Her voice was quiet as to not disturb those working around them, and her nails created rugged trails in the ground, as if she was trying to let her stress leak into the soil.

Shemira | 4 Years Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Hunter | Weimaraner
Location: Camp/City Streets | Mentions: Frost, Quinn, Polaris

The aristocratic hound gazed at Frost bemusedly, relaxing to a halt as the snow-colored female abruptly stopped in the factory's doorway. She watched as her leader's eyes suddenly turned bleary and stricken, dread seeming to emanate from her pelt as if experiencing something they couldn't see. Shemira's fur began to bristle. With haste, she glanced around the camp. Finding nothing of dire importance that could bring their leader to such a sorry state, she turned back once again with a less panicked, almost perturbed stare. Was it a memory, perhaps? The moment was broken, however, Frost seeming to shake away whatever troubled her, and moving forward as if the incident never happened. 'How... odd,' the Weimaraner mused, filing the incident away for later pondering.

She listened silently to Frost's words, flanking the albino alpha alongside Quinn with a swift, streamlined gait. Her slate-colored nose twitched periodically, narrowed eyes sweeping the streets for any hint of a foreign movement, occasionally shifting to rest on her leader before turning back. It wouldn't do to let her guard down, especially with murderers afoot. They were a group of two hunters, one fighter, and the alpha. If they were ambushed, would they be able to defend themselves? If they couldn't, the blow to the Fallen Ashes would be staggering.

Her attention turned to Frost's words. Although she did not exactly agree with disregarding the Red Willow so easily, Shemira understood the sentiment behind the statement. She herself knew that the Red Willow dogs were softer — compassionate, kind, lenient. However, Shemira knew even a soft dog could have fangs, hence her apprehension. If it were Raven, it would be much easier for sure — there was no way she could have amassed a large force in such a short period, and absolutely zero chance anything she assembled could hold against the Fallen Ashes' might.

Shemira smelt the blood before she saw it. Thick, rusty, strong — it hung in the air like a malevolent presence, choking the breath out of any who dared come near. Red streaks on the concrete marked where Axel's body had been dragged all the way to camp, and though the crimson liquid had mostly dried it didn't stop the early morning sun from glistening off it ominously, casting long shadows and highlighting the leaked lifeblood for all to see.

Without any flair, she split away from the group. Velvety ears pricked forward, stance alert and maybe a little bit predatory as she advanced; her head dipping low to the ground, eyes keen, movements silent, and her shoulders rolling stealthily much like a stalking cat. With great speed, Shemira surveyed the area, nose flaring in search of any scent that could link to Axel.

Unblinking turquoise eyes sharpened, then dilated. The steel-colored hunter swerved abruptly, elegant features set in concentration as her nose led her to the object of her attention: a moderately large, light grayish-cream tuft of torn fur, with patterned darker pigment in certain portions. She sniffed at it furiously, circling it with her maw as to scent where it came from, easily memorizing the smell and appearance down to the finest detail with rapt attention. She knew no dog with this particular coloration, and the scent did not match up to any hound she knew (off the top of her head). Could this be the murderer?

"I found some fur!" she barked, raising her voice for all three other members of the patrol to hear.

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Torak | 5 Years Old | Male | Red Willow Subordinate | Indigenous Himalayan Mastiff
Location: Camp/Woods | Mentions: Xander, Akia, Keys, Maculoses

Torak prepared himself to follow Xander and Akia while they unanimously agreed to search the woodland, but he only made a couple of steps before they paused. Glancing over to whatever caught their attention, despite the situation his tail began to wag cheerfully as Keys and Mac came to into view. In the past, he often enjoyed time spent with the spotted dame and tri-colored Pitsky, each unique in personality though both equally enjoyable to spend time with. (Even if Keys could be a tad bit childish, at times.)

Glancing over at Akia, he only got the chance to nod and smile in greeting at the pair, swiftly following his fellow subordinate's lead to delve into the nearest underbrush. He quickly made the decision to stray far enough away to cover new ground, but close enough to hear a call for help should it be needed. His nose low to the earth and eyes determined, he blazed through the foliage, taking deep, heavy sniffs as to ensure he didn't miss a single trace of the lone pup. He could only imagine what poor Oliver was going through, away from his pack.

Scrabbling through bushes and ducking under branches, Torak found he could only scent the usual of his packmates and the wildlife around him — no trail matching up to Oliver's. He heard Xander saying something about Thunder and Vervain in the distance, which he answered with a loud grunt. The black and tan subordinate circled the area once more, brambles tangling in his fur and sticky weeds gluing themselves to his coat. It would be a terror to clean himself after this, but he didn't have time to think about any of that right now. His head swerved at the slightest hint of movement, but he would inevitably find it to only be a squirrel or bird. (Something he may have delighted in chasing, had the situation been any different.)

With his face set in defeat, Torak made his way back to Xander and the others. Noting Akia was already there, he padded down dejectedly, hindquarters plopping against the ground. "No, nothing." He mumbled, making eye contact with each in turn, before bending down to pick a bramble out of his fur. He had hoped the others had more luck than him, though with a mere glance that notion was quickly eliminated. However, Akia's statement ignited unease in his heart. It really was odd that they hadn't found a trail yet — by all means, they should have at least found a clue by now. It was as if the pup disappeared into thin air.

A nearby howl had him starting in fright, then excitement. Had someone found something? With only a quick brief look at his companions, Torak picked himself up and bolted to the direction of the source, twigs snapping in his wake. It was surprisingly nearby, and as he burst through the bushes he saw Keys, as similarly covered in brambles as he was. His tail began to wag in tentative hope. "What'd you find?" A useless question, as a glimpse gave him the answer: a tuft of fur!

His tail was moving a mile a minute at this point. "Good job, Keys!" Torak panted with his usual rumbling voice, elation evident, his tongue lolling out as he moved closer to get a whiff for himself. It wasn't a scent he recognized, unfortunately, but it was a scent all the same! Was this the pupnapper? His attention turned to Mac. He... didn't know what coyote smelled like, but he brought his nose to the ground all the same. It would certainly explain the odd scent. He just needed to match the smell to a trail, and Oliver would be found in no time!

arthur | five years old | Fallen Ashes Fighter | Purebred German Shepherd

location ; heading out of camp to the city streets | mentions ; cole, and the rest of his party.

the soft murmurs of dogs rang in his black ears, he slowly raised his square head out from a trash can. he left the dank alleyway to follow the voices, though driven by curious nature, he was cautious with every step he took. his long legs taking slow strokes as he kept his distance from the walls of abandoned buildings. arthur wasn't too familiar with urban cities, but he knew better than to let his pelt to brush against any of the walls of the buildings. following the voices with a cautious walk, his black docked tail flicked as the hair from his neck relaxed. he was thankful to recognize the scent of his fellow packmates, but as he grew closer he noticed the weariness in their gait. arthur let the short whiskers of his maw twitched as he approach the large dog, greeting him with a slow nod. "mornin' there, cole." his voice held a deep and thick southern drawl. his voice was a raspy but gruff tone, but it matched his personality well very much like his appearance. "I've overheard about axel near in the mornin' after I dropped a bird off. not much we can do for him." he murmured, his docked tail flicking before a heavy sigh escaped his lips. his black ears pointed forward as he gazed around the streets. the dog was clearly a german shepherd, baring the same long maw and piercing eyes as any german shepherd. he bore a black saddle marking, and long red-tinted tan legs and underbelly. the muscles beneath his thick pelt seemed to ripple with each step he took, as his black nose twitched before his gaze parted away from the large male. truthfully, arthur was never great with empathy, nor was he great with death. his large black ears flicked before turning his large head back to the other male, a frown curving his lips. "forst ain't takin' it well, huh? well, I can't say I blame her." he commented, frowning before clearing his throat to change the subject. "anyway, do ya need any help with the patrol? it's still early 'til any good prey comes crawlin' out." the german shepherd was a bit of a stubborn ass, but he had some time to help out. afterall, this pack helped him more than he'd like to admit

berry | three years old | Red Willow Subordinate | Irish Setter mix

location ; outside of camp to the woods | mentions ; the patrol.

rustling of leaves caused the fur on her shoulders to rise, her golden brown eyes shined in danger as she bared her sharp yellowing teeth. she let a calming sigh escape as she recognized the pelts of red willow. berry let a sigh escape as she lowered her white and red head down, pressing her long maw underneath the fresh kill of a squirrel, clamping the body in her jaws as she approached the patrol, her dark pink lips curved into a goofy smile. the squirrel in her jaws only added to her own silliness. berry was a tall and slender mahogany red irish setter. her pelt was mostly a solid color until the upperhalf of her body, there she bore a white muzzle with red speckles on her forehead and all around her maw. her legs were mostly white with red speckles similar to her muzzle, but the red curved into almost a saddle pattern on her shoulders. her pelt was a lot more smooth and softer than arthur's, but it was occasionally muddy thanks to her curious endeavors. berry broke into a quick sprint as she saw the patrol walk further away from her, "wait a minute!" she called out, muffled by the fluffy squirrel tail. her docked tail slowly wagging as she greeting her fellow packmates before approaching torak, giving the large fluffy male a confused look as he brought his nose to the ground. "whatcha sniffing the ground for? ooh, is there a rabbit near by? did you know rabbits eat their own dirt, how weird is that? kinda like how birds can't pee." she rambled, before slowly shaking her head to keep her focus on what she wanted to say. "what's with the big group out here? did someone get lost?" she finally asked, truthfully berry can't remember that well. she was a bit spotty in certain area's, but other than that she was just a dog who wore her heart on her sleeve. "I heard paws around the area before sunrise, but that was just arthur stopping by to say hello. I showed him how to cross your eyes, it gives you double vision!" she barked cheerfully, her voice slightly muffled by the squirrel in her jaws. her floppy red ears flicked up as her golden brown eyes landed on the ground. "do you need me to move or something? cause I can do that! I can also climb a tree, but we can't talk about that. I got stuck in more tree's than I wanna admit." she let a soft laugh escape, oblivious to the situation at hand, but that was berry for ya.

Ciel | 4 Years Old | Female | Stabyhoun | Fallen Ashes Fighter
Location: Outside of Camp | Mentions: Cole, Ruby, Arthur

With a renewed sense of vigour now that she had a task to put her mind to, Ciel followed after her patrol, moving at an easy trot in order to keep up with the long strides of Cole. She dropped back to walk at the rear end of the patrol, keeping Ruby right in front of her - in the middle of the line-up so that she could easily keep an eye on the younger female. Hearing Ruby's worried 'What if they're too strong?' had placed a seed of doubt in her mind. She had faith in her own fighting abilities, and she rarely ever met a dog who she felt could rival the strength of Cole, but if there really was a murderer violent enough to brutally kill a dog like Axel roaming around on their territory, she wondered if bringing a Trainee along with only two Fighters to defend her had been the best decision.

She turned her attention to the area surrounding them, her head lowered to the ground to search for unfamiliar scents. She made sure she was still vaguely aware of the conversation between Cole and Ruby, not wanting to miss any important information. Picking up on Cole's order to search the alleyways, Ciel raised her head. "Perhaps, as we're doing that, we should make our way over towards the border closest to the forest," she suggested, "considering the savagery of the crime, I wouldn't be surprised if there was wolf involvement." And a wolf would certainly have the power carry out what had been done to Axel's body, Ciel thought with unease.

Suddenly aware of the sound of pawsteps, Ciel turned her head, casting a worried gaze down the barren road. As the familiar voice of Arthur reached her ears, however, she quickly put down her guard, her tail moving at a gentle wag to greet her fellow Fighter. The shepherd offered Cole his help, as if he'd been able to sense Ciel's earlier concerns that their patrol was too small and had come to join them. She allowed herself to feel slightly less tense. "Your help would be great, Arthur. We could definitely use an extra pair of eyes and ears on this patrol."

Frost | 4 Years, 6 Months Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Alpha | Pharaoh Hound/Doberman Pinscher Mix
Location: Camp | Mentions: Polaris, Quinn, Shemira

Frustration. A familiar, but all the same unwanted emotion, swept over Frost in a massive wave of disappointment. As suspected, the albino Doberman mix failed to pick up anything noteworthy on her own, the scent of Axel's spilled blood filling her nostrils and overpowering everything else. As first Polaris and then Shemira called for her, however, Frost's head jerked up, her pale gaze switching between the two before ordering Polaris to hold his position and rushing to stand beside Shemira. She scrutinized the torn fur through narrowed eyes, her nose hovering above the oddly colored tendrils, drawing in a deep breath. "Remember this scent," she growled before turning and heading after Polaris.

Quick strides brought her to the collie within moments, and once more, her muzzle lowered to the ground to assess what Polaris had found. Much to her vexation, the scent trail was faded, too difficult for her to make any sense of it. Hopeful Shemira would speak up regarding whether or not the scent from the fur was the same as whatever creature had left this trail without being asked, only seconds later did she realize one of their company was not among them. "Quinn," she called sharply, ears swiveling. When she didn't receive an answer, Frost cursed under her breath. What foolish dog would run off on their own with a bloody murderer on the loose? Polaris and Shemira were mere hunters, she couldn't leave them to fend for themselves, and this discovery was too important to ignore.

"She's on her own," she grunted after a moment or so. Regardless of whether or not the scents matched, this was likely their best lead. "Follow it before it gets any fainter."

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━

HINT FOR: Quinn

The fox’s scent leads you to the border with Red Willow. You can tell the dawn patrol hasn’t gotten to refreshing the scent markers yet and nobody seems to be around. Will you risk crossing into rival territory alone or return to your packmates?

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━

HINT FOR: Polaris & Shemira

Shemira can confirm the scents are the same. Frost hangs at the back of the patrol, allowing either hunter to take the lead. As you follow the trail you find it isn’t straightforward and lose it several times, tracking it through alleyways and over fences until you find yourself entering the charred section of the city. Frost seems determined to keep going, but you may have misgivings about continuing without any backup. Will you voice them?

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━

Ruby | 1 Year Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Trainee | Pitbull
Location: Camp | Mentions: Cole, Ciel, Risha, Arthur

Ruby nodded along as Cole explained the plan, seemingly hanging on his every word. Content with the answer she was given, the young dog prepared to follow him when Risha came rushing after them, calling on them to wait. Flopped ears perking up a bit, she turned toward the wolfish canine, wondering what had her so worked up. The suggestion to search Axel’s body for foreign hairs saw her glance between Risha and Cole nervously. “S-surely that’s already been done?” She asked softly, uncertain whether they should return and check or continue on with Frost’s orders.

In the end, Cole was the patrol captain and she was willing to back whatever decision he made. Arthur’s arrival brought the patrol’s numbers up to a solid four, five if Risha decided to join them as well, and Ruby’s confidence made a rapid recovery. Axel had been powerful, but he was only one dog. What could possibly threaten this many of them together? Though Arthur’s comments concerning Frost not taking the death well saw her gaze shift back to the Shepherd quizzically. Frost often acted so cold and distant...Ruby realized she hadn’t considered what she might personally be feeling.

“She seems very angry at the least,” she agreed grimly. “Whoever did this is going to be sorry once she gets her teeth on them.” Ciel's mention of checking near the forest border for signs of wolf activity resulted in her hackles rising slightly. "Wouldn't we have scented them if wolves were here?" She asked uneasily.

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Xander | 3 Years Old | Male | Red Willow Subordinate | Scottish Deerhound
Location: Camp | Mentions: Akia, Torak, Keys, Maculoses, Berry

Keys' excitable howling saw Xander turn her way in aggravation until he realized she had indeed found something, quickly padding after the others to investigate. Mac mentioned something about coyotes and he leaned closer to the patch of fur caught on the brambles. The scent attached to it didn't smell like a coyote to him and the fur appeared darker than normal...but perhaps one really couldn't tell for sure when it wasn't attached to the canine in question. "They must be disguising their scent somehow. That's the only explanation."

He paused for a moment, hazel gaze lingering on Keys thoughtfully. "Good job," he finally uttered, a bit reluctantly perhaps, but the disapproval he had first greeted her with seemed to be fading now. His expression was almost welcoming up until the moment Berry appeared, far too peppy for current circumstances and clearly clueless as to what was going on. Xander looked about ready to pop a vein by the time she finished speaking. Deigning not to answer any of her questions, he instead sent a scathing glare her way, leaving one of the others to explain before beginning to sniff around the bush for more clues.

Quinn | 3 Years, 2 Months | Female | Fallen Ashes Fighter | Doberman Pinscher Rottweiler Mix
Location: Red Willow Territory | Mentions: Vervain

The Doberman mix continued her deft city travel, despite the overgrown mess between the cracks and the rubble left over from the inferno. She tried not to think too much about her lost masters, only reassuring herself that they were not a part of the dead they had collected. She didn’t dare go further than that. She knew she would reach a point where the urge to run to the destroyed home would be too great, and she couldn’t get sidetracked from this frustrating mystery. She hoped her group had found something of value to follow, or to add to their list of clues.

Her muscular legs froze mid-stride as a fading scent caressed her nares. Her nose flared and her proud ears perked, her regal face settling into a not-so-pretty scowl. Such luck. She flexed her toned shoulders as she waited. One minute. Two. Screw it. She made up her mind quickly. Who knew when the patrol would come through. She didn’t want to sit still and look pretty, there was a murderer on the loose, damn it. And if she found the killer to be amongst the Red Willow, more power to her. She straightened and lunged into the territory, confidence heating her body beyond the morning sun, her nose following the fresh trail with vigor.

This pack had made its home within the park. A good location to thrive, no doubt. She had favored this location over the decrepit, overgrown factory, but that was home now and she even had a spot claimed for herself, so she wouldn’t be leaving it without a fight. Not that they had anywhere else to go.

She slowed, staying vigilant, but also tried to appear more harmless than she was, eyes scouring the camp. Where was everyone? Her question went unanswered, but her nose found the answer to another question. Fox? Sharp cognac eyes fell upon a fox within the camp, and almost instantly pulled forward, her usual vigor seeping into her limbs, yelling There, there! Go there! but she reigned it in before it could do damage. She approached slowly, without quieting her steps, offering the lowering of her head, willing her face to convey openness, candidness, conviviality... whatever. She doubted the fox would give any information if she went in teeth bared. Especially since she was already trespassing. Oh well, life is an adventure, so what’s a few broken etiquettes and rules?



Akia | 2 Years | Female | Red Willow Subordinate | German Shepherd Mix
Location: Camp | Mentions: Torak, Xander, Keys, Berry

Akia turned her attention to Torak as he emerged from the brush, his bulk spotted with bramble, watching as he plopped down near her, his dejected vibe and defeated visage bringing a frown upon her otherwise stoic countenance. She opened her maw — to awkwardly offer her reassurance, to maybe start the kernel of renewed determination — when an excited howl sounded from who could only be Keys.

She lifted herself smoothly and trekked to the bramble branded dog, eyes zeroing in on a tuft of fur. The fur was irregular for a coyote, and it certainly didn’t smell of one. She would know. She fought the urge to twist around and bite at her scarred haunches. Sometimes, she could still smell the scent of those bastards lingering within her marred flesh, as stupid as it was.

She nudged her way to their only lead, bringing her nose to the strands and closed her eyes, marking the odd scent in her memory before backing away towards the outer ring of the group with an impressed nod sent in Keys direction, only to spot Berry, a more excitable dog than Keys, with a squirrel. She waited patiently for Berry to stop her babbling, or tried. When Berry mentioned an Arthur, Akia’s stance changed from casual to ramrod straight, scorching eyes focused entirely upon the pretty Setter. “Arthur? Who’s that?” She tried to keep a sharp biting tone out of her inquiry, but she could tell it leaked in, just a drop. She went through her mental list of dogs that made up the Red Willow, none of them named Arthur. She seethed quietly, tossing a look to Xander’s turned back, keeping the fanned fire in her eyes only, the rest of her face appearing as stoic as before.

Shemira | 4 Years Old | Female | Fallen Ashes Hunter | Weimaraner
Location: Camp/City Streets | Mentions: Frost, Polaris, Quinn

Shemira dipped her head swiftly in response to Frost's order, gaze lingering thoughtfully on the pale-coated female as she rushed away. After a pause, she averted her eyes, stare moving downwards to the grayish-cream tuft of fur that lie at her paws. She gave it one last, final sniff, ingraining the odd scent to memory, and carefully lifted her paw to partially push a nearby piece of stone atop it to ensure it wouldn't blow away with the wind. (It simply wouldn't do to lose such an important piece of evidence, now would it?)

Without any prompting, the steel-colored hound turned to Frost and Polaris, making her way over to the duo with a gait akin to that of a prowling feline — evidently alert, though hardly without the dignity and poise characteristic of her. She idly brought her head to the ground, sniffing lightly, easily locating the smell the pair seemed so fixated on. The scents were the same. "It's a match," the Weimaraner nodded towards the tuft of fur, shifting her head to peer at Frost carefully.

The absence of Quinn had her lips peeling in disgruntlement. Although she couldn't exactly blame the sinuous, well-muscled female for following her own trail, it still left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. What if she was attacked? What if they were attacked? She was the only fighter, dammit, how were two hunters (and the alpha, though Shemira had no doubt Frost could take care of herself), supposed to defend themselves?

She couldn't linger on that, however. Nodding curtly to Frost, Shemira dropped her head once more and let her nose guide her. One paw in front of the other, she took the lead, winding through alleyways, circling buildings, leaping over fences, and sometimes even doubling back. She kept the pace quick, or at least as quick as she could get while following a trail, hardly taking a glance back to ensure the other two canines were following.

It was some time later the charred portion of the city came into view. Shemira slowed easily, padding to a stop right at the border. Turning to finally face the pair, she noted Frost seemed intent on moving forwards (if her bearing was any indicator). Nevertheless, she had her doubts — was it wise to continue without reinforcements? If worse came to worst, they could always run away (they all had the builds for it, it would be a breeze), but if they were ambushed by a greater force, the Fallen Ashes would be without two of their hunters and the alpha. Was it worth the risk, especially with the murderer so near? Even so, if they continued, they wouldn't risk Frost's ire, and if they caught the murderer, the reward could be tremendous.

However, Shemira revealed none of this.

"Shall we continue?" she spoke at last, twisting to look at each dog in turn, before finally resting her gaze upon Polaris.

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Torak | 5 Years Old | Male | Red Willow Subordinate | Indigenous Himalayan Mastiff
Location: Camp/Woods | Mentions: Xander, Akia, Keys, Maculoses, Berry

The Indigenous Himalayan Mastiff raised his head to greet Berry with a gentle grin, his tail wagging idly as her excited commentary filled the air. Berry was always a delight, if a bit scatter-brained at times. Like right now. He paused briefly at the revelation that birds couldn't piss, his face contorting into something akin to disgusted, yet amused, fascination. Where did it go, then? And how did she even know that rabbits, well, ate their own muck? What situation could have...? 'Best not to question it,' Torak shook his head, a small smile alighting his face nonetheless. Silly Berry.

"Oliver disappeared from the pup cabin this morning," he began, frowning at the reminder. "Xander, Akia, and I been searching for him since dawn. Keys and Mac joined us a while ago. We think we've found something here," Torak nodded his head to each dog as he spoke of them, and then turned to glance at the rusty brown tuft of fur still caught in the brambles, "that could lead us to the pupnapper." He perked up. "We have a scent now, so it should be easier."

Torak pressed his nose to the ground as he finished speaking, clearly satisfied with his apt summary of the situation. He was a good boi, yes he was. However, he lifted his head with a jerk as Akia, diligent as she was, seemed to change disposition in an instant, relaxed to seething in the span of a second. His hackles raised. Akia was right — who was Arthur? He knew no one called Arthur, and Torak prided himself on knowing the names of every single one of his packmates. Something wasn't right.

Caution shone evident on his face. He took a small step backward, wary eyes cycling from Akia, to Berry, and back.