(let's get this started then, shall we?)
Atrox | Male | Magister | Cat | Location: Alleyway | Mentions: Two brawlers, Two seekers

The lithe shadow of a cat sat perched atop a dumpster. The metal container had long since been robbed of anything edible, but the black plastic soaked up the sun and made an ideal spot for relaxing a bit. Despite Atrox's loose position, his amber eyes were sharp and alert, his bat- like ears twitching at every sound. Every so often, his ebony tail would whip across the plastic dumpster lid, the only outward sound of his agitation. Just minutes ago, there had been a rat. It was fat, and huge, and scurrying along the pavement in search of something to eat. The black cat had nearly crept close enough to pounce when a wanderer showed its face. The rat fled, an enraged Atrox pounced at the wanderer, and the cat, taken by surprise, spun on its heels and ran.

The lone creature managed to vanish among the labyrinth of buildings, damn thing had probably found a fire escape, and left Atrox raging. His blood was up, his stomach empty, and the shadows sent a sudden chill down his spine. The cat then returned to the place he saw the rat and settled down atop a sun- heated dumpster, allowing the mild cold to dissipate from his coat. He hated wanderers. After what may have been half an hour of fruitless waiting, the enraged cat slunk down from the dumpster and swaggered down the alley, his sloping strides silent and effortless. The tip of the ebony cat's tail twitched angrily back and forth as he walked, his sharp eyes scouring the shadows for that cat to show its face again.

Then, he saw it. Just protruding from the shadows. The wanderer. But its silver face was contorted, mouth open in a silent scream as a thin dribble of blood ran from its throat and trailed pensively down the pavement. Caught completely by surprise, Atrox circled the body to scrutinize the corpse closely. It had been completely disemboweled, intestines, stomach, lungs, heart, all missing. Its eyes were wide open and glazed over. Atrox shivered, but not because of the chill. He'd never seen such a brutal murder. Had something eaten it, more of the animal would have been missing, but it was completely intact save the hole in its stomach. Even its ribs remained whole, protecting something that was no longer there. Shaken, the black tom turned away, taking off at his rarely seen bounding run. He had to make sure the rest of his colony was safe.

The corpse was only a five or six minute run from the campsite of the Simul, and Atrox arrived very much out of breath. He had doubts in his mind about how the cat had been killed. A territorial dispute between wanderers? Something larger that had gotten hungry? Maybe it had somehow disemboweled itself, perhaps falling from a high place and getting caught on something on the way down. Or, maybe it was a murder. There were some very violent wanderers. Atrox came to a halt as he entered camp, tail twitching madly with anxious energy. His voice echoed loud, clear, and nearly emotionless, save the occasional pause between words to catch his breath. "I need two seekers and two brawlers." His gaze swung to the cattle dog with ill disguised contempt. He'd never been a huge fan of dogs, especially ones that were as forcibly happy as this medice.

"And you, Medice. Come with me."

Autem | Male | Medice | Dog | Location: Camp | Mentions: Two seekers, Two brawlers

The cattle dog had spent the morning as he typically did: napping. He had no one to treat, his herbs were stocked, the sun warmed his mottled coat, and the air smelled fresh and crisp. It had taken a long time for the stench of death to dissipate, but now that it finally had Tem was absolutely delighted. He stretched out stocky little legs with a grunt, small pops sounding as his joints readied themselves for another day. His neat little ears snapped up into position atop his head as he yawned, bubblegum pink tongue curling among his canines. The last piece of his waking up ritual consisted of a full body shake, accomapnied by the sound of his large ears flapping against his head and a wave of dust rising from his blue ticked coat. Without baths, there was only so clean a dog could stay.

He rolled to his paws, carefully checking over his herbs and oddities. A small collection of chamomile flowers peered happily back, kept alive upon a damp piece of cloth plucked from one of the many rotting corpses years ago. He pressed his nose against it, testing the moisture. It would be good for a while longer. Among the chamomile were a few heads of Feverfew. They were difficult to come by, and, unlike the chamomile, dried and preserved with utmost care. Lavender stems that had also been dried were next on his list. A collection of other herbs, a large pile of cobwebs, and a few more flowers leg Tem to his favorite healing partner. Fat, white worms worked their way in and out of a piece of meat, salvaged from dinner a few nights ago. They were maggots, used for treating severe, chronic wounds. They were Tem's mother's little secret, and the dog kept them as a bittersweet reminder.

As he watched the larvae crawl over the meat and each other, his studied them carefully to see if they'd grown. The most annoying thing about them was how they all eventually grew up, becoming useless to him, but he found them fascinating none the less. Considering the popularity of flies, especially with so many corpses for so long, maggots weren't difficult to come by, but securing them and ensuring their survival was a bit of a task. But he loved them regardless. He'd even come to name some of them. The biggest was Henry. Henry was rarely inside the meat, he liked to cling to the outside while the others liquidized the inside. Jerry was slightly misshapen, with a sort of permanent curve to him. Or perhaps that was just his favorite position. Tem couldn't tell for sure.

It was about then that a clear voice echoed from outside, calling for seekers and brawlers. Tem was out in a moment, his interest piqued, curiosity heightened to a fine point. What was happening? The cattle dog shrank back slightly when the cat's cold gaze landed on him. If a medice was needed, it couldn't be good. But Tem trotted to Atrox and stood beside him, waiting to see which seekers and brawlers would volunteer for this sudden, worrying mission.

Quinten | 3 Years | Male | Scottish Deerhound | Seeker | Location: Camp | Mentions: Atrox, Autem

It was a day like any other, or so Quinten assumed upon waking. Later, after everything that would occur throughout the next few hours played out, the Deerhound would reflect on how foolish a thought that had been. For now, he lay curled in his nest, the hints of sunlight seeping into his den warming his back. Peaceful moments like this were cherished, when his mind was still caught in tantalizing dreams of better times before he woke to a world twisted and terrible. It never lasted, the sounds of commotion causing ears to perk and hazel eyes to slowly open, a soft, irritable huff emitted as he forcibly regained consciousness.

Shifting slightly, Quinten peered out into the camp, a blur of black fur darting past him seeing his head lift. The scent tickling his nose was unmistakable, tainted by apprehension. It was rare to witness cold and calculated Atrox in such a state. At last, motivated by interest, the seeker rose to his paws, following the cat to where he stood now. He appeared agitated, calling for a pair of seekers and brawlers each, as well as requesting the medice's presence. Quinten stepped forward, a silent offer of his attendance. He would ask what this was all about, but Atrox didn't seem in a mood for entertaining questions.

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Redeye | 2 Years | Male | Oriental Shorthair Mix | Brawler | Location: Streets | Mentions: Duke

Bounding strides propelled Redeye forward, his paws traversing precariously atop a tall stone wall stretching for several miles. A pigeon struggled to lift itself higher, an injured wing hindering its progress, only managing to hover a few inches above the ghostly feline's head. Strong hind legs launched him into the air, but the bird caught a stroke of luck, pivoting in the air at just the right moment. His claws slashed empty air, and Redeye landed empty-pawed. He watched with veiled amusement as his prey escaped, unbothered despite the hassle. Other opportunities would present themselves before long he would sure.

Continuing along the narrow path, curious to see where it would lead, he caught a glimpse of a dark shape below that drew his attention downward. Head tilting, he paused, crimson irises following the shadowy figure's movements as they ventured closer. A large dog appeared, a mouse hanging from his maw. The tiny creature fought to free itself, twisting and turning in his grip. Redeye's muzzle wrinkled. What was he doing with it? Did dogs that big ordinarily hunt mice? It could hardly be a morsel. Why bother?

Eyes widened with dismay once the rodent was dropped into a puddle, a heavy paw holding it down until its desperate struggles ceased. His whiskers twitched as an uncharacteristic frown formed on his face before it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. He sprawled out across the wall, front legs crossing and chin resting atop them. "You know, it's not wise to play with your food. That mouse is going to taste terrible now," he called down to the brute, shaking his head and making a tsking noise.

Bellefleur | 3 Years Old | Female | Cat | Brawler
Location: Camp | Mentions: Quinten, Autem, Atrox

Bellefleur curled up, half-asleep, as she sunbathed in the middle of camp, the morning sunlight giving her ticked pelt a glossy sheen. She'd wandered out of the den slightly earlier than usual, deciding to take advantage of those rare, peaceful morning hours. She was letting her pelt soak up the heat now that they were finally out of those horrible, gloomy mountains. Unfortunately for her, that didn't last for very long.

With her ear to the ground, she could hear the disturbances caused by a fast-approaching figure - someone running into camp. She let out a heavy sigh, rolling over onto her side and stretching out her front legs. She remained, laying sprawled out in that position, one yellow eye cracked open and her tail swishing in feigned indifference as she surveyed the camp. A flicker of interest appeared in that eye, however, when the cat bursting into camp turned out to be none other than Atrox, their ever-serious (and ever-arrogant) leader. She kept up her facade of nonchalance, her ear lazily flicking as he called for two brawlers to join him, but she did smirk inwardly upon observing the contemptuous glare he aimed at the Medice. It was no secret that the Magister held some form of distaste towards canines, and the irony of it amused Belle. You'd think the leader of a group that preached unity between the species would actually believe in those values. 'Well, then. Let's give the poor tom some feline company,' she decided, finally getting up. Besides, she wanted to see what was so horrible that it was able to drive His Majesty to break into a run.

After taking a moment to smooth down her fur, Bellefleur strolled easily towards the gathering group, her tail curling and swaying elegantly behind her. "I'm happy to join you," she called to Atrox. Ignoring all the tension in the air, she padded straight over to Autem, rubbing her head against one of the canine's speckled front legs in a friendly greeting. "Mornin', Tem," she mewed happily. She sat down right in front of him, directly under his muzzle, as if using the canine as some sort of shelter. The Medice was one of the few animals that Belle decided she actually liked. She found his chipper personality refreshing, especially when so many of the other members of Simul were so grumpy. He also usually smelled faintly of flowers, which was an extra plus.

Asterion|6 years|Male|Maine Coon|Seeker|Location: Forest - Simul's Camp|Mentions: Atrox

Asterion was hunting in the forest right next to the city. The plants carved their paths through the roadways, crawling closer and closer to the abadoned buildings, making the forest easily accesible. Not many cats and dogs dare to roam there. Asterion likes this, because the creatures that serve as food, are not disturbed, so a plenty of them do not expect danger.
Several rodents were already caught, but still not enough to feed Simul. The male was seeking more prey, stepping quietly in the undergrowth. A dove's scent was luring his body farther in the thick forest. The scent became stronger, slowly becoming accompanied by another. A stranger one. Asterion followed it, despite the risk, with a fast heartbeat and wide eyes. His heart's pace started to slow down, seeing a death dove, without anyone else there. It's wings were spread. The Seeker wasn't allowed to calm down yet, a pale fur disappearing through the bushes made him suddenly crouch down in the tall plants. Was this the wolf? Or just a Wanderer? I should consult this with Atrox, thought the male, while he lifted the newly found prey with his jaws. Turning back quickly he went straight out of the forest.
In the camp Asterion put down the dove, making it free for anyone to take. The other caught rodents were already brought back. The Magister wasn't in the camp, so he greeted some of the members and layed down in a sunlighted place away from the others, waiting for him, to report back what he saw. Asterion was constantly checking for the Magister's dark pelt. Finally, Atrox appeared looking round, with his cold gaze. Still, Asterion was able to notice a flash of nervousness in the amber eyes. The Magister stopped almost in the middle of the camp and said with a clear, cold and loud voice "I need two seekers and two brawlers." Little, almost unhearable anxiousness echoed in his voice. The thought of volunteering crossed Asterion's mind. It's clear that there's a serious issue, that disturbed even the Magister. I just tell him what I saw later. This may be more important. The Maine Coon stood up and slowly, but determinedly walked toward Atrox.

Bailey | Female | Contender | Sprollie | Location: Camp | Mentions: Ellesmera

Bailey huffed through her nose as she skirted the forest border of the Simul's claimed lands. The crossbreed had taken to wandering the forest lately, trying to keep her usually boundless energy from overflowing. While she still had a Brawler's heart, she was a Contender now, with fewer patrols to occupy her time. Though, of course, it didn't remove her responsibilities entirely. She still wondered what she had been thinking, putting herself forward for the Alpha rank. Mostly she just wanted to protect her new family, especially should her old one come sniffing around. Brutal as they were with recruiting, they may even outgrow their territory soon and go looking for more.

Shaking the depressing thoughts from her mind, Bailey grunted and began heading back towards Camp. Movement in the underbrush had her head twisting automatically, body following before she could consciously decide to do so. Her paws follow the scent in her nose as her mouth slid open to pant. The chase was short and the female lunged as the grey-brown pelt began to disappear down into the earth. Her aim struck true and she pulled the scrabbling creature out, dealing with it quickly and cleanly. A pleased huff escaped her as she grabbed her prize and continued back to her family. She might not be a Seeker, but one didn't turn down food when it appeared.

Bailey slipped into Camp with a wagging tail, heading over to the first familiar face she saw. "Morning Ellesmera," She greeted happily around her rabbit, "Are you hungry?" The cross set the rabbit down in front of the Beta, offering it to her with a nudge as she collapsed nearby, panting happily. The chase had burned off the last of her manic energy and she felt like she could actually relax now. Her eyes drifted over to where their Magister seemed to be gathering a group, but turned away sighing. She might work beside Atrox one day, it wouldn't be a good idea to annoy him now by barging in to ask if she could go along.

(so sorry for the delay, Stranger Things is such a time killer.)
Atrox | Male | Magister | Cat | Location: Alleyway | Mentions: Asterion, Ellesmera, Quinten, Bellefleur, Autem

The shadow of a cat dropped his haunches as his seekers and brawlers came towards him. First Quinten, the massive seeker. Atrox always thought that dog should have become a brawler. Who in their right mind would fight something that size? But the black cat was one to respect others choices. For the most part. Next came Bellefleur, a wheat colored cat and one that had often caught Atrox's eye. But he wasn't much of one for relationships, never had been, and the way the she cat practically threw herself at the medice made Atrox's gaze shift to his next volunteer in annoyance. Asterion, an absolute beast of a cat, was next. Once more, an animal Atrox would have been glad to make a brawler. He was an impressive size and with fur that thick, it'd be hard to get a good bite.

When no one else volunteered and Atrox became too agitated to sit still any longer, he stood and with a flick of his tail beckoned for his volunteers to follow him. With a quick glance at the beta, Atrox nodded. She was a fine beta, and knew her job in and out. The fact that she'd silently elected to stay sat quite well with Atrox, and the simple nod of approval was quite akin to a smile from the obsidian beast. He'd be fine without a second brawler, he could fight if need be. Without a backwards glance the lithe shadow led the group to where the death and discovery of the corpse had occured. That picture kept flashing through his mind: surprised, glazed eyes, insides torn open and internal organs gone, everything else intact. Even its throat had been unmarred. His ears perked up a fraction of an inch as an idea came to him. Maybe there was fur on the claws. Maybe the cat had fought back against its assailant, putting up a vain battle against death, refusing to lie down for its final brawl. As he walked, his tail twitched back and forth, his muscles were taut, his ears roving, cold amber eyes watching everything they could. He would not be caught off guard, not here.

When the team passed the rusty old ladder, Atrox suddenly stopped. The body. It was gone. He trotted to the spot, making sure it was right. Blood still stained the pavement, confirming Atrox's navigational skills, but the corpse had vanished. He cursed, the mouth of a sailor pushing its way through the cat's normally calculated demeanor. This was something that could kill them, pick them off one by one, and his only way of tracking it was gone. When the colorful language subsided, the cat once again shouldered the demeanor of a composed, refined leader. "Quinten, see if you can pick up a scent of anything, if you can find where the body went, even better. Asterion, go on the roofs and see if you can spot anything out of the ordinary, or any more corpses. If it looks big, find us and we'll check it out. Bellefleur, go with Astrion, he's not quite as big as Quinten and no one's dying on my watch." The cat looked once more at the bloody stain, a rather large mark, on the pavement. It wouldn't be long before the blood baked onto the cement and became a temporary tattoo of sorts. Atrox scowled. "Autem, go with Quinten. If he finds the body I want you to examine it. Any questions?"

Autem | Male | Medice | Dog | Location: Camp | Mentions: Bellefleur, Astrion, Quinten, Atrox

The cattle dog's tail wagged with excitement when Bellefleur greeted him, butting his leg, then settled down under his chin. He tried to peer down at her, but it was a tad difficult considering she was directly underneath him. Instead, he settled with gently bumping her with his broad chest, a smile breaking across his face. "Morning Bell! How was your nap?" His tail swung back and forth so hard the dog seemed to vibrate, thrilled by physical contact. All too soon, their agitated Magister lead them out. He stood up regrettably, taking the moment he was above Bell to nudge her, returning her chipper greeting. He then followed, sticking just beside the cat. His tail still swung jauntily back and forth, though the rhythm had slowed significantly.

Autem trailed behind a clearly distraught Atrox, watching the grey, vine choked buildings pass by. He paused for a moment as he stepped in a puddle, muddy water that had collected in a pot hole. He held his wet foot up for a moment, before stepping over the missing chunk of pavement and leaving a single wet paw print. At the sudden barrage of cursing, a single oversized ear flickered backwards, the only visible sign of Tem's moderate discomfort. He peered over the annoyed, swearing Magister at a blood stain. It was quite large, probably most of the victim's blood if it was a cat, about half if it was an average sized dog. The fact that Atrox had failed to share what the body was of didn't help the cattle dog much. But aside from the blood, there was nothing to show a corpse had once lain here. There were no signs of a scuffle, no knocked over objects or blood anywhere else. But, his sharp eyes noticed a trail of blood drops leading away from the location of the missing corpse.

Before Tem could bring this up, the cat seemed to compose himself again and assign jobs. At the mention of his name; last, but what Tem hoped was not least, he glanced at Quinten. The dog was huge, no doubt about it, and a little intimidating, even to a dog as amicable as Tem. But the sheer size of the hound, even if he wasn't a brawler, was a comfort to the medice. He trotted over to Quinten when the Magister asked if anyone had questions, in a not very question friendly tone, and nudged the highest part of the Deer Hound he could reach: his forearm. Should the grey, wiry dog grant Tem his attention, the cattle dog would tip his head in the direction of the bloody, faint trail. Maybe it was a start.

Ranger | 5 Years Old | Male | Dog | Contender
Location: Streets, Near Train Station | Mentions: Loki

Ranger had been unable to sleep well the previous night, an occurrence which was rare since he'd joined Simul, but, considering he'd just put himself forward as a Contender, he wasn't surprised that his mind was more active than usual. He drifted in and out of sleep several times, eventually giving up and padding silently out of camp in the early dawn hours. He'd wandered the streets of the city aimlessly for a while, his paws eventually taking him back to the building where his handler had died all those years ago. He'd been there before, and, of course, his handler's body was long-gone, probably found and carried away by the rest of the search and rescue team on the very day that fateful incident happened. But the building still brought out strong emotions in Ranger, and while it was associated with unpleasant memories, he often came there when he needed to think. The reminder of his handler, his previous life, helped him - reminded him to carry on.

This time he thought about many things, but most often his swirling thoughts would center back on his new role as a Contender. Him being a newer member of the group, he definitely felt there was more pressure on him to perform well as compared to the other candidates, who both had great potential as Leaders as well. He mulled it over for a while, his nerves eventually settling down. Even if he might not get the position, he'd fight for it as best as he could. He'd just found his sense of purpose again, and that wasn't something he would give up easily. Noticing that the sun had risen, he got up and turned for the exit of the building. Other members of Simul would be getting up around this time, and he needed to get back to Camp.

On his way back, however, he'd rounded a corner, stopping in his tracks when another canine came into view. A black-and-tan female was up ahead, her head to the ground as she... licked at the sidewalk? Ranger tilted his head, his muzzle crinkling in a small snarl. What was this Wanderer doing? He considered going to get back-up before approaching her, but by the time he got back with a Brawler she'd likely be gone, and, considering how strange her behaviour was, it could be important to interrogate her while he got the chance. He was around the same size as the female, and, seeing how skinny she was, Ranger figured he could hold her off if it came to a fight. Still, he'd be banking on the fact that most Wanderers wouldn't dare to fight a pack dog, considering he could howl for help.

As he padded closer, he soon realised she was attempting to cover up a trail of blood. This time, a real snarl fought itself out of Ranger's muzzle, and he was relieved he'd decided to question her immediately. This was concerning behaviour, to say the least. "I think it'll take more than that to clean that up, miss. That blood's probably begun to stain the pavement by now." He stopped a few paces away from her, eyes narrowed in suspicion as he awaited an explanation.

Bellefleur | 3 Years Old | Female | Cat | Brawler
Location: Alleyway | Mentions: Asterion, Autem, Atrox

Bellefleur's whiskers twitched in amusement at the canine's response. Dogs were such strange creatures. If he wagged that tail any harder she thought it might carry him off. "My nap was lovely... while it lasted, that is." She huffed, her ear twitching to the side. While she was complaining now, she was actually happy to have something to do as a Brawler aside from simply patrolling the area around camp. With whatever was happening, maybe today would actually be exciting. She blinked, surprised when Autem nudged her. He connected with her cheek, unintentionally rubbing some of her fur in the opposite direction. "Hey, watch the pelt. I just made myself pretty!" She aimed a playful swipe at his muzzle but kept her claws sheathed, being careful not to actually harm the Medice.

Belle gave her paw a quick lick, swiping it over her cheek to smooth down the fur before rising to her paws to follow the others. She fell into step beside Tem, glancing around and taking in the city as she walked. Her head suddenly snapped forward when Atrox let out a sharp vocalisation, and a twinkle of amusement appeared in her eyes when she realised he was cursing. 'I like him better when he's stressed out.' But the amusement quickly turned into shock, then curiosity as her gaze landed on the bloodstain and she realised what it was. Of course it was a murder, what else would get the Magister so riled up? An uneasiness took hold of her. Nobody knew why so many of the animals had been found dead when Simul returned to the city. Was it possible that there was a murderer on the loose? Even more unsettling yet was the fact that the body had disappeared. Some animal had gone through the effort to hide it.

Belle quickly shook off the strange feeling, and by the time Atrox called her name, ordering her to accompany Asterion, she was back to her usual, witty self. "You got it, boss," she responded, striding past the tom to circle the wall of a building. She wanted to ask him what he planned on doing, but, though he had asked if they had any questions, she could tell from his tone that he didn't exactly expect any. While she was usually unafraid to push the Magister's buttons a little, she was smart enough to know when it wasn't a good time, and annoying him now would likely get her thrown off the patrol. She peered around the corner of the wall, spotting a fire escape stairway which was now being reclaimed by vines. "Come on, Asterion! I found our way up," she called over her shoulder.

Asterion|6 years|Male|Maine Coon|Seeker|Location: Alleyway|Mentions: Bellefleur, Atrox, Autem
Asterion approached the group without a word. He sat down, curling his tail around his paws and listened to Bellefleur’s and Autem’s short conversation. He noticed that one more brawler was missing. Atrox waved his tail annoyedly. Seeing that no one else comes to volunteer, he got up quickly and lead the group.
Asterion was wondering what happened, but didn’t have any possbile guesses. Atrox stopped at a place where the pavement was soaked in blood. The Maine Coon understood that it must have been a murder. Killing prey or a fight wouldn’t leave behind so much blood. But if there was a murder, where’s the corpse?
Atrox seemed confused and angry. Cursing coming from his mouth confirmed this. After calming down and having a real leader’s attitude again, he organized two groups, in search for the body. After ordering Quinten and Autem, he turned to Asterion and Bellefleur: ”Asterion, go on the roofs and see if you can spot anything out of the ordinary, or any more corpses. If it looks big, find us and we’ll check it out. Bellefleur, go with Asterion, he’s not quite as big as Quinten and no one’s dying on my watch.” Asterion nodded, and directed his gaze on Bellefleur. He wasn’t outstandingly happy that he had a companion, but seeing that pool of blood, he knew that roaming near it alone without the abilities of a brawler would be dangerous. Still, the presence of the she-cat, didn’t gave him immediate feel of safety, probably of her small and thin build.
The Magister was still slightly angry, so the brown tomcat quickly went to work. Asterion inspected the building in hope to see something that could help them climb. His deep attention was broken by Bellefleur’s happy voice. ”Come on, Asterion! I found our way up.” The tom hurried towards the she-cat with pricked ears to see the fire escape she found. ”Good job. We climb up on this and see what’s in the surroundings.” He said as he started to climb up on the fire escape’s stairs. Most of it was hid by vines, but that didn’t stopped the two. They reached the last row of stairs fast.

Quinten | 3 Years | Male | Scottish Deerhound | Seeker | Location: Camp | Mentions: Atrox, Autem, Ranger, Loki

Quinten kept waiting for some form of an explanation, yet Atrox offered nothing of the sort. All the shadowy tom provided was a stream of curses swiftly followed by an issue of orders. Atrox was not the most forthcoming of cats, but the lack of information evoked some ire regardless, hazel eyes narrowing in thinly veiled irritation. Sharp comments danced on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back for the time-being, gaze drifting to a portion of blood-stained pavement. Venturing nearer, his nose hovered over the drying crimson pool, drawing in the overpowering aroma of a lost life. There was little question concerning this creature's well-being, they were dead, and suddenly Atrox's perturbed demeanor made a hell of a lot of sense.

Strands of silver fur scattered at his paws were the only clue to the victim's species, a cat. Yes, most definitely dead. Poor bastard. A gentle prod drew his attention downward, gaze following Tem's gesturing toward the trail of small red droplets leading away from the scene of the crime. He merely nodded in response before walking alongside the trail. His head remained raised, no reason for his nose to be at the ground when they had a clear direction to follow, besides that, hound or not, Quinten's sight was sharper than his nose. Ears perked and eyes scanning their surroundings for anything unusual, his nostrils still flared, drawing in any scent the breeze saw fit to bring him. He could detect the lingering odor of another canine, spiked with fear. It likely wasn't a coincidence she took the same path as the blood-drops.

Why would she take the corpse? Disposing of evidence? A simple kindness, hoping to bury it? Anything was possible he supposed, but this investigation was needlessly compromised due to her actions, whoever she was. "Complete and utter imbecile, mucking up the evidence," he muttered under his breath, seemingly no better than Atrox when it came to filling Autem in on his thoughts. Before long, two distinctly canine shapes came into view and his pace quickened, wiry hackles rising. Ranger was recognizable within seconds, but the wanderer with him was a stranger and he immediately recognized her as the dog he was tracking. She wasn't doing herself any favors, crouching over the blacktop as if in attempts to hide the evidence leading to her. Quinten stepped closer, his stance menacing. "What have you done with the body?" He demanded, lips pulling back to reveal teeth in the beginnings of a silent snarl. A subtle suggestion she start talking before he lost his patience.

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Redeye | 2 Years | Male | Oriental Shorthair Mix | Brawler | Location: Streets | Mentions: Bellefleur, Asterion

Lack of a response from the dog soon led to boredom, and Redeye rose to his paws, sprinting along the length of the wall until he reached a low hanging roof. Disappointing, really. He'd hope the dumb brute would take the bait. It was about time he returned to Simul anyway he supposed. Atrox would have his hide if he spent all day gallivanting around the city with nothing to show for it. Quick bounds brought him closer to camp before long, but the pungent scent of blood permeating the air saw his pawsteps slow. He halted as he reached the large section of street bathed in red, eyes widening. No body, yet plenty of evidence something terrible happened here. Consider his curiosity piqued.

Ducking down an alley, two shadows cast over the side of a nearby building saw albinoid irises lift skyward, catching sight of a familiar dark tabby pelt and flash of slate gray fur. Hauling himself up the nearby fire escape, it was only a matter of seconds before he caught up, darting after Bellefleur and Asterion. "Greetings!" He called cheerily, bouncing over to the pair. "I assume you've seen the mess down there? Any news? Have you located the body yet? Oh, was it gruesome? The amount of blood must mean it was quite a wretched scene. I wonder what's done it, cat or dog? A wanderer surely. None of us would do anything that awful unprovoked, I should hope!"