Rutilis | Loner | Pup | Location: Abolition camp; healer's den | Mentions: Dove, Kirtonos

The golden pup allowed himself to be picked up without complaint, curling in upon himself to make carrying easier for Dove. As he was whisked away from Gabu and Levi, he called out a single word in a small, wheezy voice: "Goodbye." He knew goodbye meant he wouldn't see them for a while, and he knew for sure Mama and Papa hadn't said goodbye. That meant they had to be close. Maybe they were trying to find him right now! He knew he'd left a good scent trail, easy to follow, and Mama and Papa were smart. They'd be able to figure out that Dove had picked him up and was carrying him to safety. The back of his head prickled; how'd that cut get there? A dull ache had begun to radiate out from it but Ru said nothing. He simply closed his eyes, kept his tail and multi-toed paws tucked against his belly, and allowed himself to swing with Dove's gait.

Upon gaining entrance to the building Ru beheld a white dog with his subdued gaze and wondered who she was. Maybe she was a Mama, too. That would be nice. Rutilis liked Mamas. He kept his thoughts calm and his breathing deep in an attempt to regulate his heart and prevent the pain from returning. He hoped he wouldn't have to run again. He sighed, allowing his eyes to slide shut again for a few moments longer than the average blink. Mama and Papa would find him. They would take him home, watch the stars, and feed him. Mama would call him her golden boy, her lion boy, and Papa would tell him his favorite star story. Everything would be okay. When Dove put him down he allowed himself to sink to his haunches, head low as the burning at the base of his skull intensified. He wondered how it got there. "How soon do you think Mama and Papa will get here?" He asked the healer in his light, airy voice. "I think it won't be long. Papa is really good at finding things, and Mama can run so fast." His voice nearly overflowed with adoration of his parents.

As he sat, head aching, in the healer's den another dog entered. This one was a shepherd with desperation tinging his voice. Rutilis turned weary eyes upon the new visiter and greeted him in his quiet, reedy cadence. "Oh, hello. What's your name?" The prickling at his skull caused him to shake his head, cracking the thin scab and sending blood trailing lazily down his forehead. His pleading gaze found Dove, his asthmatic voice creeping through the air. "It hurts." This was spoken as a mere statement more than anything, feeling funneled in by his puppy voice and small stature.

Apate | 3 Years Old | Cisgender Female | Warrior | Jindo Wolfdog
Location: Aboliton Territory | Mentions: None [OPEN]

Paws silent on the deteriorating cobblestone of Abolition's territory, a ghostly figurine haunted the streets. Head dipped low, tail arched high over her back like a rearing serpent, unholy visage intent. Her pelage seemed to emanate an almost spectral fog — water turning to vapor (like curls of smoke) with each step she trod upon the crumbling roads. Debris littered the streets, splinters of stained, bloodied wood and ominous shards of metal promising pain and misery to those who dared tread near. A dying, gnarled branch spilled out onto the concrete — leaves dead and branches long stripped of any viable sustenance — left to wither away to dust in the wind. The Jindo's frame traced the faded, barely-visible white line that slithered across the pavement, making no effort to hide her presence, knowing that any who thought to challenge her within her own lands would soon rue the day.

The pale, wolf-like creature prowled this line easily, ears pricked alert to swivel at the slightest of sounds, teeth flashing in the darkness. The last time she had checked, the prey pile had been nigh-empty, which is why she, like any dutiful (of course), packmate, took it upon herself to gather something for her brethren. She knew that this area of the city was famous for its rodents — the monstrous, malformed things that no sane individual regarded as a feast — and while it wasn't exactly the prime choice of a meal (for she would much rather dine upon a deer, or at least a boar, perhaps) it was food nonetheless, and such resources were scarce in this world left to rot.

All of a sudden, Apate paused, onyx-rimmed nose flaring, pelt rippling, and swerved abruptly to her right, diving into a nearby alleyway. Immediately, her eyes shifted to adjust for the change in lighting. She could make out the silhouettes of objects; the alley itself was nothing too special: garbage cans scattered here and there, the remains of broken walls and debris, a dumpster, and a pile of haphazard crates stacked against the walls. The mid-day light from the other entrance shone through.

However, her focus lay on the prize: a large, juicy rat. Enough for an entire dog.

Beggars couldn't be choosers. She dropped into a crouch. Finally, this was going to be good.

Izel | 2 Years | Female | Loner | Belgian Tervuren
Location: Abolition | Mentions: Open

Endless silence swept the streets. Even though she had known no different throughout her life, however short as it may be, it still gave her the feeling of looming unease. As if she was walking through the dusty, gargantuan bones of some long lost nightmare. She knew silent things lurked where her eyes did not flicker, where her ears did not swivel. Yet, she knew she was also a silent thing. An enigmatic shade gliding between decrepit buildings built by beings she’s never seen.

Her gait was smooth and quick as she roamed an alley she knew well, prowling along as her mismatched eyes swept the area smoothly, eyes catching every detail, noting things that were not there originally. Like, say, the remnants of a rabbit nestled against the side of a dumpster. A smirk curled at the edges of her jowls and a hearty chuckle thrummed within the column of her throat. The calling cards of a vixen up to no good. Something would come back, to clean up the mess it made. And she would be here waiting for it.

She swung her lithe form to the pile of crates her keen eyes at been favoring and quickly made up her mind. Quickly and quietly, she dashed and leaped, powerful limbs landing her on her mark with trained accuracy. She situated herself, tucking her body behind the shadow of another crate, and welcoming the veil the ruinous buildings created for her. It was an easy place to get down from, just as easy as it was to get up. She waited in the shade, allowing a predatory stillness to seep into her marrow.

Izel’s keen eyes, sharpened by a will to survive, caught the swift movement of a monster rat some time into her frozen state. Grotesque, as most of its brethren tend to be. It would feed her, though. Lost in her discovery, she lowered herself into a crouch, careful to balance her pathetic weight evenly upon the crates. A slow, steady breath, a quick estimate of distance and execution… A blur of movement and she was off! The powerful push of her limbs left the crates teetering, on collapsing from the pile. Alas, it was the last thing on her mind. The rat, in all of its glory, was beneath her with her teeth plunged into its neck. A victory. Sadly, one of the few. Brought back to the present and out of the moment, she scooped up her catch and made off with it, still oblivious to her company. Alley after alley, she turned swiftly, often rushing in and out of a pattern only she knew, the area mapped out in her mind.

After a couple of minutes, she made it. At the edge of the territory, a downtrodden building with a crate and a dumpster that allowed her to reach a comfortable vantage point, one she eagerly climbed onto. She pranced happily to the front of the flat roof, dropping her food at her paws and grinned to herself, double canines glinting in the midday sun. “A feast for a queen,” she murmured, almost sounding sarcastic.

Mercy | 5 Years | Female | Wolfdog Hybrid | Abolition Leader
Location: Abolition Camp | Mentions: Kirtonos, Dove, Rutilis, Quillon (Directly) / Ellesmera (Indirectly)

Mercy could read the dismay written across Quillion's face as clearly as if printed words describing his objection were etched into his fur. Her eyes narrowed, the fur along her spine beginning to bristle. "Every task is important Quillion, even those you dislike. It is imperative Dove's stock be replenished, it could be the difference between life and death. With that in mind, I hope you will take this mission more seriously and appreciate that I'm trusting you with it to begin with considering your reputation. Don't disappoint me," she finished in a low growl before stalking past him, allowing her bushy tail to slap against his side as she treaded after Kirt into the Healer's den.

It didn't surprise Mercy in the least her clever beta managed to weasel in some work and she didn't protest as he offered to help Dove tend to the pup. Ascertaining he didn't overwork himself was only half the reason she slipped inside after him, edging around the dark male and contrastingly pale form of Dove to examine Rutilis, her head tilted so her amber eye faced him. A remedy of some type had already been plastered into the wound, hiding it from view. He was a pitiful little thing, with oversized paws and such sad, beseeching eyes. Her stare was unusually tender as she stared at him, remembering the daughter who had forsaken her. They looked nothing alike, but she felt that same warmth that once blossomed in her chest whenever she gazed upon Ellesmera.

Kirtonos' less than subtle pick-up line sent her eye flickering to his face for a moment before the cheeky male disappeared, eager to fulfill his assigned task, before switching to Dove thoughtfully. She was, indeed, quite lovely. The pristine white of her coat and pungent scent of herbs she always carried grew to become a simple comfort to Mercy in the time Dove had served as her healer. She offered more than just pure skill, her opinions were valued and her gentleness, while once viewed as a weakness, Mercy could now consider an asset. The kinder female tempered her. She was lucky to have Dove among her pack. Yet Mercy wasn't one for words. Her admiration was unlikely to fall off her lips as freely as they did for Kirt.

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Aleksei | 3 Years | Male | Sighthound Mix | Insurgent Healer
Location: Abolition Woodland | Mentions: Kaz, Kardama

The newcomer's proposition caught Aleksei by surprise and he stared at the female wide-eyed for a moment before glancing between her and Kaz. He didn't like the thought of the mange-ridden youth in a stranger's mouth, but what choice did he have? "Yes, very well. Thank you," he agreed reluctantly, motioning her closer with a swing of his wispy tails.

Her comments concerning Veira brought a wry grin to his muzzle. "What's this then? You aren't afraid, are you big girl? You should feel blessed to be graced by Veira's presence." Even with that said, Aleksei found himself unsure how she would respond to him bring an injured, starving pup into their midst with an outsider in tow. It was best they avoid her and any of this packmates if they could. As Kaz slid beneath him Aleksei nudged him gently toward Kardama. "That depends. Where do you live?"

Rutilis | Loner | Pup | Location: Abolition camp; healer's den | Mentions: Dove, Kirtonos, Mercy

Ru sat quietly without complaint, holding still for Dove to apply her salve. He watched the dirt beneath him as she worked at the base of his skull. His mind wandered as she worked, jumping easily, but disturbingly, over gaps in his memory. Like getting here, or where Mama and Papa went, or how he got hurt in the first place. He'd forgotten why Mama and Papa had left with him, or where they were taking him. All he could remember was Mama calling him Lion boy, Golden boy, and the warm feeling these names aroused within him. Or sitting beside Papa's hulking figure, watching those lights glimmer merrily above. He missed them, but he just knew his new friends would find them. They had to, he'd never said goodbye.

Kirtonos directed the answer to Rutilis' question to Dove, allowing the words to soar over Ru's head. But Papa often did this as well, though he directed his answers to the stars as if consulting them. As if he expected an answer. He'd once told the gilded pup that the stars do reply, but in curious, cryptic ways. This had excited Ru so much he asked the distant lights questions every night, expecting answers. Often, he simply made up answers, but there were no stars around to inquire about this matter. Instead, he just nodded his head to Kirtonos as the lithe male slipped away to collect bedding. As Dove's immediate work drew to a close the throbbing became a dull ache, which was quite the improvement in Ru's opinion. Still, he was exhausted, his mind felt muddled and foggy, those gaps in his memory were upsetting, and the lack of his parents sucked away comfort like a leech.

The appearance of another dog drew Ru's soft gaze to the entrance. This one was a silvery white, with a sharp muzzle and bright eyes. He realized, quite suddenly, that she was the color of the stars. This provoked a smile to cross his small face as he met her soft gaze, his own stare soft and quiet. She seemed to be examining Dove, for whatever reason, and he sent his wheezy little voice in her direction. "What's your name?"