Sonnet | Loner | Location: Insurgent Land | Mentions: Fadeyka, Being

TW; tortue/mutilation of prey.

Another dreary dawn greeted the pair of wolfdogs as they trekked out into the mist, the ever-present drizzle soaking into their thick coats and paws painted brown with the endless mud they strode through. "Have you thought about what I said?" Sonnet asked, barely above a whisper as her dark gaze searched the landscape for potential prey. "We’ll gain more intel if you join one of these warring packs, and they will be able to look after you better than I, regardless." Fadeyka still wasn’t quite the same, not even as the moons wore on. He was still fragile, fearful. Expected and understandable considering what he’d been through, what they’d been through, but it was, at times, a hindrance to her plans.

A young doe wandered into her line of sight just as she finished speaking, tail lashing behind her in warning to her uncle before stalking toward the unsuspecting deer when terrified squeals filled their air in a bone-chilling crescendo of pain and panic. The doe’s head shot up, eyes wide with alarm before fleeing further into the trees and annoyance flickered across her gaze, head snapping toward the direction the noise originated from. Without another word she began bounding off with the assumption Fadeyka would follow, he so rarely left her side these days, after all. By the time she came upon the beast and his victim they were still quite a distance away, but it wasn’t difficult to tell what was causing all the commotion. Her lip lifted minimally over a tooth with disgust at the scene displayed before her. "He would have fit in well with the Crows," she remarked, voice laced with venom.

Once the dog vacated the area and left the corpse to pollute a nearby pond she moved toward him, any protests from the older canine at her heels ignored. "Did no one ever teach you not to play with your food?" She remarked, keeping a safe distance between them for now, but quite visibly unafraid of the deranged creature laying among the shadows. "You cost me a kill with your shenanigans."

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Sonya | Abolition Warrior | Location: Abolition Camp | Mentions: OPEN

TW; implied cannibalism, violence/murder, scary memory.

Sonya’s heart pounded against her ribcage once her flank collided with the brick wall blocking the end of the alleyway, hackles raised and eyes wild with fear. Three dogs advanced on her quickly, all slavering jaws and blood soaked muzzles. There gazes were feral and cruel, twisted by their dark deeds beyond recognition. "You didn’t run fast enough, pup," one taunted with a terrible laugh that would go on to haunt her nightmares forever more. "You’re younger, I wonder if you’ll taste better," another cackled.

There was no way out. No way but forward. So to their surprise, and hers as well if she were being truthful, Sonya lunged forward and grabbed the closest dog by the throat. She bit down until blood filled her mouth and a gurgling sound emitted from her victim, letting him fall to the ground before lunging for the next with an enraged snarl. They would pay. They would suffer for what they did to Vega, for what they wanted to do to her. She bit and clawed and stomped, ignoring the attempts to do the same to her; their mouths full of fur and rarely meeting in her skin. She only let go when the second dog fell as still as the first, and then her maddened gaze settled on the last, and it was his turn to be afraid.

She woke with a start, breaths coming out fast and limbs thrashing until Sonya had kicked up most of her nest in her moment of panic, stilling as the the grass and moss fell back down on top of her, half-burying the perturbed canine. She didn’t move, focusing on the scents and sounds around her until she was coaxed into a sense of security. She was home. She was with Abolition. She was safe.

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Bishop | Onus Scout | Location: Outside Territory | Mentions: Rye (Directly) / Roland (Indirectly)

Bishop set out that morning with a goal in mind, long before what little light the sun could offer through the shroud of thick gray clouds chased away the worst of night’s darkness. Heading back into Insurgent territory would be a death sentence considering his current affiliation, but it was such a shame to give up all the offerings the city could provide. Morals won out over progress this time, but it was only a matter of time before the benefits outweighed the risks for the daring sighthound. For now, he took his search to the outskirts of the territories, searching among decrepit abandoned buildings for anything of interest and coming up sorely underwhelmed thus far.

Anything of interest was rusted beyond use or so sodden through by rain it was falling apart, but unwilling to give up just yet, he pressed on further until a warehouse of sorts came into sight. His last hurrah before heading home to the pack. Bishop sprinted toward the structure with renewed enthusiasm when he spotted a golden shape standing in his path and slowed his pace with caution. He carried the scent of Abolition on his pelt, but they were both well beyond the reaches of their territory. Showing aggression here would be petty and pointless, but Bishop certainly wouldn’t put it past a rival of Insurgent, especially with Quillon making camp so close to their borders.

The Retriever failed to notice him even as padded up behind him, seemingly preoccupied with staring at the warehouse, or perhaps the indents of pawprints in the mud leading to the entrance. His maw opened to introduce himself when the stranger sneezed, the force of it sending the fellow stumbling back straight into Bishop’s side. The black and white speckled hound blinked a few times, but didn’t move, bumping his shoulder and hip with the Abolition dog to balance him before stepping aside. "Well, hello, hello to you too, sir. Whose acquaintance am I making this fine morning?"

Fadekya | Loner | Location: Insurgent Land | Mentions: Sonnet, Being

He had thought about what she said, over and over again. It was obvious to him that he was becoming a burden to her, and that she would do better without him lingering around. It just didn’t feel right to him to leave her again. They had lost her parents ages ago and her other siblings, to the point it felt strange to him to think about losing her, even though he was sure at one point he would. Someday she’d want a mate, someday she’d be able to have a pack that loved her again. Whether she believed it or not was a different story. His sunken eyes turned to her as he began to say, “I have…” before being cut off by the flick of Sonnet’s tail. Immediately, he hushed.

Fadeyka’s eyes moved to the young doe, a beautiful creature even out here in this dreary place. He stayed behind as she began stalking toward it, as his old leg injury had begun to act up again. It looked like Sonnet may have an easy time until a wretched shrieking spilled into the air, causing the fur along his spine to shoot up and his eyes to grow wide, his head moving side to side to catch where the sound was coming from. Sonnet seemed to have pinpointed where it was, and he kept up with her as best he could. When he came upon the scene she was staring at, he wished he hadn’t. The viciousness they witnessed was something he would have expected from the Crows, and his niece spoke similar to his own thoughts. He simply nodded in agreement. This wasn’t a canine he really wanted to be anywhere near, but he could already tell that Sonnet was going to speak to them. His mumbled warnings fell on deaf ears, and after a moment he stopped trying and just stayed back a bit, eyeing the other canine in case they ran at them.