Finally, home at last. Well, in the general ‘dis my continent’ kinda way. Valentine still had a great deal of traveling to do to make it home. Although he was tired from the battle and the travel he was eager to stand before Rhythm and assure her of his success. None of the slavers had survived. They’d massacred the camp with alacrity and then spent the next several days hunting down all who had been away from the main body for one reason or another. None remained.

As proof of his total success Valentine had brought back the heads of the slavers’ most senior members. The cherry on his sundae, the jewel on his crown, the one head that now thumped against his chest as he walked belonged to none other than Toxic. He wasn’t letting that noggin out of his sight for a second. The rest he’d gotten others to carry but this one? This one he carried proudly. Because this bastard was the one that Rhythm requested. Jupiter carried the man’s favorite bitch's head, which Rhythm has also requested, but Valentine didn’t care about that one as much. She hadn’t raped his mate.

A number of wolves had been freed by the raid and some now traveled with them, but Valentine paid them no mind. And he made extra sure to turn a blind eye to the ones that might have been Rhythm’s. If they were wise they’d continue to keep their distance from him because without Rhythm’s looming presence to protect them Valentine had no intention of playing nice. They weren’t quite the lowest creatures he held opinions of (the wolf whose head now hung from his jaws definitely rated lower) but they were well below the median.

Valentine paused at the crest of a hill to look around at those that traveled with him. He dropped the head unceremoniously and then, after realizing the drop may have shaken loose the balls in its mouth, he quickly inspected it. No loose balls. He was free to look around.

Aerndis followed behind Valentine, panting. Her companion, Rudolph, flew through the sky above her. She was tired and walked with a slight limp, favoring her left hind leg that had been injured in battle. She had numerous cuts and bruises and mentally she was still digesting her first experience of an all out battle. She'd sparred with her brothers and had a few scrapes now and then with loners but nothing like what she'd just been through. She'd never seen such violence nor had she ever been the cause of such bloodshed against a fellow wolf. The only way she'd been able to get through the battle mentally was to imagine her foes as prey. In truth she was a bit shaken but she didn't want to show it. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves and she didn't want her grandfather to think of her as weak. Aerndis did think the slavers deserved it. They were wretched creatures and an awful threat that needed to be eliminated. In truth they deserved no less than to be slaughtered like sheep. So why did she feel so like this?

Valentine settled on a hill and Aerndis moved to join him. She sat down heavily and began to lick at the wound on her left hind paw. She paused to smile softly at Valentine before returning to clean her injury which had broken open again. Every time she thought the bleeding had stopped it would start up again. While leaping after a slaver one of his compatriots had seized her hind limb in his jaws. She was lucky to get away without any broken bones.

“speech” & thoughts A russet-toned brute weaved deliberately in between the pack of wolves that were freed from the Slavers. His intense gaze held briefly on a snowy-hued fae before flickering elsewhere after realizing that it wasn’t her. Where was she? There was a glint of dread that would reflect across his emerald orbs and his heart began to sink when he realized the worst. A few nights prior he’d managed to escape on his own, though the fresh scars along his flank testified to the price that he paid in doing so. He’d promised Illia that he would return and after shadowing the Slavers for those few days, he did. Just as a war broke out. Chaos ensued as an unknown party launched an attack against them. Throughout the assault, Andante kept a low profile, opting instead to find her. The night he’d left, Toxic had ordered his death. Even though, Andante was born to a victim of Toxic’s assault, Toxic took to him. After his mother fled, Andante made his way up among the slaves and quickly caught his father’s selfish interest. Desiring to have his son follow in his footsteps, Toxic approached Andante offering him a chance to become a Slaver. When Andante refused, Toxic lashed out at him. Dante fought bravely, but had he not turned to run he would have been killed on the spot by their leader and his followers. The ruffian knew that Dante had his eye on Illia and Andante feared that Toxic would turn his rage to her if he didn’t return.   The stench of death hung in the air and carnage spread out across the fields. The metallic scent stung his nostrils and the grass was wet from the blood beneath his paws. They were all gone. Every single one of them. He’d noticed that some of the corpses were beheaded and in awe he realized to whom those bodies belonged. A huff of air would escape his maw in satisfaction. Served the bastard right. The attacking party wasn’t far ahead, so Andante caught up with them in no time. It was only a matter of locating her. Approaching the group, he observed those at the forefront with mild interest. Clearly, they were the leaders of this bloodshed. He kept his distance from the strangers, preferring to mingle among the freed slaves. He was only there to find her. Once she’d been found, they could leave.   Yet, the growing anxiety in him began to break through his stoic façade. A low snarl of frustration emitted from his maw and his auds perked, frame tense. Nagging in the back of his mind was the possibility of what had happened, though Andante refused to confront it. No, he had to be absolutely sure. If Illia was not there then that meant that she was dead. His gaze swept frantically once more over the slaves before he drew closer to the strangers. Perhaps, she was among them? He was careful to keep his distance, only close enough so that he could make out their features.

Greed had caught up with the raiding party near the last minute, tracking down their trail when he finally decided to join them. At first he was unsure, but with the senior Ancoran woman going, he decided to. Greed owed her alot. He always felt indebted to her and her family for taking him in and putting up with him after his own family abandoned him. So when he caught up to them, he was relieved to find that one of her sons had joined. He knew Gryphon, though vaguely. He had never really talked to him before, but he knew the male's devotion to his mother was strong. Or at least, the desire to protect her and make sure she came out of this alive, even though he looked annoyed the whole way. When the battle had begun, Greed showed no fear as the party raided the slavers. Greed had gone all in, grabbing whatever enemy he could and ripping them apart with the others. Blood heavily stained his fur, covering every bit of white that marked him. It had been too long since he had last fought like that, maiming and tearing someone apart. Except this time, it wasn't just some petty squabble because some idiot ran their mouth, no. It was to cull from the earth those that had done unimaginable harm. The wolves that had fled and the ones that joined him were not recognizable. He didn't particularly care about them, but that didn't matter, anyway. He had come solely to rip someone apart, and to help ensure the safety of the elder Ancora. Now they were back, the male bruised and sore and covered in bites and scratches, but hey, it was nothing compared to the other guys. They ended up dead. And he was still walking. He waited with the others, head turning to search out the elder Ancora. Once he spotted her, he moved over to her to see if she needed help with anything. Once satisfied that she was fine, they exchanged a few more words. He would be returning to Acapella after this. He hoped she was alright...he had left her with Dragon and his companions, and even though his alpha was blind, he knew she was under the best care. "Talk"