Apate | 3 Years Old | Cisgender Female | Warrior | Jindo Wolfdog
Location: Aboliton Territory | Mentions: Izel

Apate's breath caught in her throat. Holy fuck. Something otherworldly, godless, sinuous... seductive, and for a moment, she knew very little how to react. Her gaze lingered on the exposed column of the female's throat almost hungrily, those doubled-teeth and all the depraved things they could do, those unholy scars that so sinfully stretched across her frame. She, they, were survivors in the fragments of a world left to wither, ones that had seen all the cruelties that this forgotten, dying world had to offer, and greeted it with a head raised high and a smile on devious lips.

If this strange, entralling lass wanted to play this game, then Apate would gladly oblige. She did love a challenge. (No matter how illegal.)

"Don't be too hasty, little vixen." She tutted, strutting forwards — movements precise and fluidic, shoulders rolling over her back — her heavy-lidded eyes peering up at the silhouette of the captivating lass that had hooked her attention so. Battle-scarred and lethal; a beautiful face that hid a cunning mind. A survivor. Apate's words shifted to a wicked, purring drawl, a devilish snapping of teeth to enhance dulcet tones. "You are playing a very dangerous game."

The pale, wolflike lass paused, tongue flickering out and curving to wet onyx lips, dark eyes boring into sun-earth irises. A smile full of bared teeth rest on her maw, curved to mimic some gruesome parody of a grin. Her throat was so close, yet so far; an offer she could oh-so-easily grab onto and not let go until shallow breaths ceased... and yet, she didn't. "What then, exactly, makes you think you are safe in Abolition lands, hm?

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

Izel devoured the sight of the female as she strut towards her, movements precise and fluid, the glide of proper regality, the confidence and appearance of an angelic conqueror, yet the unholy way her eyes scavenged everything in sight told just how much of a naive fable that was. There was something vicious in front of her, and the feeling it gave her…

Well, it’s been awhile since she’s faced someone like her. Someone who was born into darkness and gradually became it. This predator before her — supple and serpentine, carved from bone and ivory — was perhaps her only equal. Other than, perhaps, the mighty female who ran the lands she intruded upon. But, this wicked lass, who strutted towards her, actually tutted at her. Black, triangular ears flicked languidly and her own lids drooped to mimic the female who, like her, acted like she owned the place.

“A dangerous game?” Her voice breezed from her maw, soft and delicate, like the distant sound of birdsong. Laughter filled the air between them. “Life is a dangerous game,” she said simply, the words rolling off her tongue, like a feather-like confession, “and I play it best.” More chiming laughter, honey and soil eyes regarding the wolf-like dog with a dark expression, watching intently as her tongue glided over onyx lips.

“No one is safe anywhere.” Her words were a whisper against the pressing white noise of the world. The words were honeyed, phrased as though it were supposed to be a comfort. Her eyes scanned the wolf-dog as they approached, pushing closer to her location upon the roof. Sunlit eyes took in the display of scars. “You are not even safe here. It would be naive to think so, don’t you think so?” A methodical, delicate tilt of her head as she regarded the lass. “Now,” she murmured, eyes boring into the pack dog’s light-engulfing ones. Pulling, luring, devouring, “are you going to join me? Or shall we continue this dance between beasts?”

Hunger was starting to plague her. She hadn’t eaten in days and she felt every bit of it. As much as she liked every other prey animal more than rats, the monster she killed looked like a piece of heaven brought to earth.

Mercy | 5 Years | Female | Abolition Leader
Location: Abolition Camp | Mentions: Rutilis, Dove, Kirtonos, Nikita

“Rutilis,” Mercy repeated the name aloud, each letter flowing off her tongue like a song. “What an intriguing name. Your parents have marvelous taste,” she complimented, her attention diverting briefly to Dove as they discussed the nature of her second’s flirtations. As suspected, it didn’t appear to bother the snowy healer and she allowed the soft, melodious tone of Dove’s voice to ease her concerns.

As the conversation ended, the pelts promptly delivered, she set about helping Dove create a comfortable bed for their new guest, lifting him gently by the scruff once it was completed and setting him back down at the center of the newly formed nest. Rutilis appeared to be faring much better despite his subdued demeanor, the healer’s poultice working its magic. Mercy’s amber eye remained on his face as the golden-haired child spoke more on his parents and detailed where he once lived, giving him her undivided consideration. The sway of his little tail and the delight she could see in his gaze brought a warm smile to her muzzle.

How long had it been since they were last graced by the presence of pups? The great white beast had forgotten how much she missed motherhood. Her gaze darkened as he mentioned there being a lot of them. Of course. Litters rarely contained just one pup. “Where was the last place you saw your parents and siblings, little lion? Was it at your home?” She inquired softly. “My home is here, within this great rock and the lands that surround it. You will be safe here Ru. Nothing will come to harm you here.”

Dove’s request to speak with her in privacy saw her eyes lift to meet hers for a moment before nodding in silent affirmation. “Rest for now. We’ll take care of everything from here.” Presenting the youngster with one last smile, Mercy padded after Dove, pausing only to glance over Nikita as the dappled hound suggested she and Kirtonos leave camp in search of their guest’s parents. Her gaze narrowed, her tone sharp as she directed it at the pair. “You will have more than just parents to search for now, the boy has missing siblings” she murmured, eyeing the scout disapprovingly.

“Jumping headfirst into something without all the details is unwise. A bear could be wandering in our territory, you and Kirtonos alone would be a poor match for it.” Regardless...locating Ru’s parents quickly was imperative if they wanted to find them alive. “Very well, though. Search. If you scent or see the bear do not engage, return for backup immediately. I will catch up once I’ve spoken to Dove,” she growled before gliding past them to join her pale-furred healer.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Levi | 4 Years | Male | Abolition Warrior
Location: Abolition Camp | Mentions: Dove, Gabu, Quillon

Several names and images flashed through his mind, Levi desperately hoping to memorize all of them as Dove showed him what she would need. Perhaps it would have been better to send in one of his companions. His memory wasn't the sharpest. Hoping Gabu lingered close enough to make up for the inadequacies in his memory, he followed Quillon’s trail out into the city, muttering each herb beneath his breath. His flopped ears angled toward Quillion as the agitated male stated he wanted their task completed as quickly as possible, seemingly more interested in locating the bear or their visitor’s parents.

Levi had to admit it sounded like a far more interesting task, and as they picked up on the pup’s scent he found himself torn between destinations. “If that pup’s parents survived the attack they’re probably dying, bleeding out,” he muttered with reluctance, broad head swinging between their current path and the forest. “Dove still has some herbs left if she had enough to show me...I’m thinking maybe we should follow the trail while it’s still fresh. Just in case,” he finally deduced with a confident nod. “If we don’t find anything we just go back to flower picking, and if we do, well, Mercy can hardly be mad at us for doing our job. Any objections?”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Aleksei | 3 Years | Male | Insurgent Healer
Location: Insurgent Camp | Mentions: Cecil, Veira, Kaz, Daigo, Daya

Dark claws skidded across tile flooring as Aleksei veered into the large hospital room used as the basis of his apothecary. The chamber was a wreck when he first got his paws on it, but a bit of tidying up had transformed the area into a space worthy of housing patients. Shattered tiling was entirely torn out, leaving behind sanded cement he covered with fresh grasses and leaves to make it easier on paws. Three long, raised beds were situated along one wall, covered in newly changed linen. It was difficult to make anything as clean or sterilized as a human could, but Aleksei did the best he could with what he was given, washing them clean of the worst filth in the river before leaving them out to dry in the midday sun. He felt thankful now that chore had been completed the previous day.

There was a lounge chair shoved into another corner. The blankets shaped into a nest, traces of silken onyx and ivory fur evidence it was his own. He’d made use of every human invention the hospital had to offer. A chipped white sink suspended on the wall by the entrance, while no longer possessing working plumbing, was oft filled with clean water, retrieved with buckets from the pack’s water sources, and a number of small wheeled contraptions with opening shelves were used to store any herbs. He realized with a curse under his breath he’d neglected to return with the flowers he’d risked straying into Abolition for in the first place, the injured pup taking precedence in his thoughts.

As he fussed through his stock, searching for what he would need in a flurry of urgency, the appearance of another dog saw his slender face jerk toward the opening to his den with a mouth full of herbs, bright chestnut irises landing on Cecil’s face with clear trepidation. It wasn’t like him to look so troubled, but between Veira’s fury and Kaz’s condition, it was difficult to hide his whirling emotions. He spat the herbs back into their container, pacing the room as he waited for Daigo to arrive with his patient. “I found a pup in Abolotion’s woods. He’s not in great shape...I fear it may already be too late,” he whispered, shaking his head bitterly.

A shadow flitted past the room, gliding up the staircase to an upper level and Aleksei felt his unease grow. His mind remained consumed with what he could due to heal Kaz, but he knew better than anyone he would need a convincing excuse for his violations when Veira returned to confront him. Once Daigo burst into the room Aleksei hopped atop one of the empty beds, motioning him closer with a twitch of his double tails. “Set him down here.” His eyes glanced over Cecil and Daigo’s enormous, sturdy frames; rippling with muscle he could never hope to procure as if they were carved from stone.

Under ordinary circumstances, he might admire them a little more closely, unabashedly with a flirtatious comment at the ready, but he couldn’t manage it today. Not with so much at stake. If things took a turn would they defend the healer, or assist their leader and reach for him with teeth bared, ready to tear? Aleksei supposed he would find out soon enough. Daya’s brindled face appeared in the doorway, summoning the warriors away, leaving the speckled hound him alone with a gradually fading patient. “Kaz, can you hear me? Stay with me lad. It would be a shame for you to make it all the way here only to give up now,” he encouraged before setting to work.

Nikita / Abolition scout / Location: Abolition territory / Mentions; Mercy, Kirtonos. Rutilis indirectly.

~

Daigo / Insurgent warrior / Location: insurgent healer's den / Mentions; Aleksi, Cecil, Daya, Kaz

Apate | 3 Years Old | Cisgender Female | Warrior | Jindo Wolfdog
Location: Aboliton Territory | Mentions: Izel

A breathy, smoky inhale flowed past a parted maw, heavy-lidded eyes drooping to peer at sunlit irises. Laughter like tinkling bells and windchimes filled the air — whispering words to enthrall the heart and ensnare the mind — utterances unholy, seductive, siren. An angel-like figurine so reminiscent of a succubus; one that bewitched, enticed, enraptured... and Apate could never resist.

She listened to honeyed words intently, a crooning whisper that permeated the air of an abandoned world. Sweet like sugar, with the undertones of something devious, sultry, ominous. So, she responded in kind. (A slow, unholy smirk; a devil beneath sensual nothings.) "That may be so, but I am safer with my warriors, fighters, brethren at beck and call. Retribution against those that scar us is... always swift."

Her tail twitched as an utterance drifted from the heavens. An inquiry. Who was this strange, wicked vixen to offer her, a pack dog, a chance to partake in a meal, when sustenance itself was so few and far between? And so phrase it in such a way that it would simply be obscene to refuse. How... devious. "Hm, I don't see why not," Apate's voice, husky and drawling, spilled from ebony lips, the hint of something impish underneath a sly murmur. "Since you offered so kindly," She drew a grin, teeth glimmering in the mid-day sun, shadows stretching to frame the deep set of dismal, almond-shaped eyes. "I will gladly oblige."

And so, gathering her strength into lean-muscled hindquarters, Apate licked her lips, tensed, and then leaped, snaking onto the crate and dumpster with silent, efficient ease. The dog before her bore features exotic and tragic: gilded scars that so wickedly stretched across a chestnut hide, flecks of sunlit gold in heterochromatic eyes, doubled teeth so deadly and sharp and delightfully dangerous that Apate could have died enamored where she stood.

She placed a paw on the flat roof, sinful eyes boring into chestnut-gold ones. A raised skull, pale, wraithlike fur ruffling with the breeze, a physique that screamed speed, agility, endurance.

"Shall we feast?"

Cecil | 3 Years | Male | Insurgent Warrior | Greek Shepherd
Location: Insurgent Camp | Mentions: Aleksei, Daigo, Daya

Cecil was always amazed by the creativity of the healer. Looking around the room, anyone could easily see the work they put into making sure everything was accessible, made sense, worked properly. He had a system, and Cecil admired that about the dedicated male. Among… other things. Cecil’s eyes roamed the healer, bouncing between looking for wounds and simply appreciating the elegant framework and aspect of the Sighthound.

Jungle green and rust colored eyes followed the fleet-footed flurry that Aleksei maintained. Cecil fought the urge to shuffle awkwardly. He felt as if he should be helping, despite the action of healing being so far out of his comfort zone, considering his job was the direct opposite of healing. Aleksei’s soft voice met his perked ears and a frown settled on his ebony lips. An injured pup? That wasn’t any good. Still, he lacked any sort of… empathy. No pang of the heart, no wetting of the eyes, no heavy sigh…

“If there’s anyone I know that could give him a fighting chance, it would be you,” Cecil murmured, ignoring the rather obvious appearance of Veira, before the mighty alphess hauled ass up into the higher levels. The herculean male gave a small huff at the furious display and gave Aleksei a meaningful look that only said Good luck before he nodded to Daya, the lean-bodied Beta, and filed out after Daigo, giving the male a lazy smile in greeting. “It appears so, Daigo,” he mumbled.

He turned his vibrant eyes upon the striped beta and took a deep breath. “Loners love our lands. That’s nothing new. Bit a few of them in the ass on my patrols, ambushed a few others. Should keep them out for a while, or permanently.” He gave a shrug. “I couldn’t find any Abolition dogs on our lands.” His eyes darted between the two dogs he stood with. “What happened on your end?” His low, rhythmic timbre faded out as he waited for answers. He wondered if they’d get any real action soon. He felt as if the warning bites to the rumps of thieves were losing their charm.

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

The joy lit up Ru's espresso colored eyes. He'd quickly fallen in love with this Mercy, feeling a powerful urge within to be beside her. There was a faded milk scent about her, or maybe it was in her demeanor when she spoke to him. Nevertheless, she reminded him quite a bit about Papa, and she brought great comfort to the pup. He did not protest when she picked him up, he merely curled his paws close to his belly so as to aid the carrying process. He descent to the skins was heavenly, the soft fur a gift to his forest torn paws. He settled down immediately. Rutilis had been weaned recently enough to still carry the round belly of a dog who does not know hardship. His breath still reeked of mother's milk, with the faintest traces of meat. His sharp puppy teeth were still white and sharp, and they did not yet know the taste of another's lifeblood.

Mercy's question, how many siblings and when he'd last seen them, furrowed his brow. "When Mama counts us she stops at nine, I'm always six." He wagged his tail as if this information was just as important to him as his own name. "Papa doesn't count us, he says we're smart and won't wander." Ru tried hard, really hard, to remember where he'd last seen his family. "Rocks. Big rocks. But they're far away, I runned for a long time before I got here." His gaze sought Mercy's kind amber eyes, looking for some sort of approval, but Dove called Mercy's audience. At her command towards comfort Ru obediently dropped his head, but his coffee colored gaze followed the two ghostly females from the room. As they dispersed, leaving him in silence, Rutilis curled around himself, nose buried in dirty, aching paws. His heart throbbed with sudden fear. This room was very big to a small pup like Ru, and he'd only been here for barely an hour. He missed his Mama, and his Papa, and his siblings. He wished he could be next to them, he wished he could snuggle into his mother's fur, or lay between his father's paws, or nestle among his numerous brothers and sisters. He longed for the warmth of another dog.

But for now, all he had was himself. So he curled in tighter, ignoring the chill at his back and the pain in his paws. He paid little heed to the emptiness sitting heavily inside his chest. Instead, he whimpered quietly, his soft words nearly lost to the oppressive silence. "I want my Mama."

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

Izel hummed, thoughtful for a moment as her tail trailed the surface of the roof she posed upon. “Brethren, hm? And not one of them would turn their backs on you? Not one of them would dig their teeth into your flesh in some gruesome lesson?” A soft click of her tongue and she studied the blasphemous visage of the lupine lookalike. “I’ve found it’s easier to travel this world alone. Those who watch your back could bite it just as easily.”

As much as Izel postured and preened for this unknown lass (all the while panicking internally, you know, like a real charmer) she had found that this life was lonely and perhaps a bit meaningless. Pitiful and pathetic. Her paw pads tingled and her heart jumped with every word the female purred at her. From fear, surely. Or something similar. After all, her eyes were drawn to males only. But, this godless warrioress who peered at her with eyes that spoke of sinful things, eyes that looked to be crafted from the space between stars, and actually agreed to eat with her. Izel thought for sure that this vengeful goddess would have her jaws clenched around her throat the second she offered. Mainly because she was looking at Izel like she was the meal to be devoured.

Izel watched with intense ardor as the lass leapt, the look hand-crafted for moments like these. She watched as muscles rippled, movements of angelic grace that made Izel pause a brief moment. A beautiful flower at the surface, a deadly serpent hiding beneath. Izel mimicked the warrioress in her presentation. Beautiful and deadly — the world’s destruction mirrored in the creation of two dogs, parallel and but so wildly different. Night and day, both equally wicked.

Izel chuckled at her, the sound smokey and meticulously measured and executed. “We shall.”


After they had finished their feasting, Izel stood at the edge of the roof, motionless. A statuette etched from ebony and sepia. She liked to do this, to stand at the edge of things that could hurt her—kill her— and just… look on. Izel peered into the blazing landscape, back turned towards her guest. A gamble, and one she readily took. An inquiring hum purred in her throat, and an anticipatory pause before she asked her question. “What is it like? To have others to walk beside, fight beside? Hunt with.” Her voice was soft and wistful, like the distant cries of a lonely ghost. As much as she didn't want to appear vulnerable, she was curious. Achingly so.

/ Nikita / Abolition scout / Location: Abolition territory / Mentions; Kirtonos /

/ Daya / Insurgent beta / Location: Insurgent camp / Mentions; Cecil, Daigo /

/ Daigo / Insurgent warrior / Location: Insurgent camp / Mentions; Cecil, Daya /