It was odd how much value was placed on scent markers. Pyrrhic considered this as he stepped through the "border" that separated the Runestones and the Cathedral. Once on the other side of Risen's temporary border Pyrrhic felt a weight lift off of him. Though he loved his family, right now there was something freeing about being outside Risen. He felt like he could throw off the mantle of responsibility that weighed heavily on his shoulders and just breathe.

A spring returned to his step as he wandered the familiar vine-filled terrain of the cathedral. He had so many memories of this place. In these vines his imagination had run wild. He'd gone on adventures, chasing demons and whipping heathens into submission. He'd played with his siblings, learned to fight, met Benkos here.

He slowed to a halt as another memory with the mandrill came to him. Pyrrhic nosed at the base of a tree and then glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the memory-scene that now had his attention. He'd sat in this very spot after Benkos had brought him here to witness the integration of a band of newly captured primates. The war chief had strutted down the line of captives, his sharp eyes roving them as he assigned worth to each one. Benkos' position in the horde allowed him to pick the best of them and he had; he selected two female mandrills to keep for himself. What happened next froze young Pyrrhic in place. He'd watched with equal parts horror and fascination as Benkos inducted his new wives into his harem and the horde by extension.

The cries of the captives had been ignored by everyone present. The assortment of primates had watched passively. As for the boy, Pyrrhic hadn't known what to think. The brutal world of the primates was openly harsh and merciless, and unlike anything he'd seen before. Sure, Risen spoke far more casually of brutality than most packs, but it had all been talk to the boy. He'd never seen the darkness before.

When he was done Benkos had come back to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Pyrrhic had been able to smell the female mandrills on him. In a matter-of-fact voice he'd explained to the boy the duty of the individual to better the collective. The captives were now part of the horde and thus it was their duty to better it in some way. Sometimes, as Benkos explained, the sacrifices were unpleasant as it was today for his new wives. That was just how life was and there was no shirking from it. And if one was smart they could take what life gave them and use it to their advantage, as Benkos had. He'd started on the bottom and worked his way to the top.

That lesson had stuck with Pyrrhic. He thought about it now as he resumed his wandering. What Benkos had said had struck him as true than and it still resonated with him. He was at a point in his life where his duty was painful, but he had an obligation to carry on anyway for his people. Duty and family, family and duty. If he played his cards right, life would get better for him.

Necessity brought the small woman so far from home base. She'd been told of a grove full of old growth grape vines. They would be just the thing to finish the harness for her gift to her brother. And so the tiny healer made her way south. There was no great need for a healer to stay home at the moment. And, if something did happen, Lucretia was available. As was Deathbelle herself.

As the woman walked, small cart in tow, she reflected upon her current situation. In such a short time, her position in life had changed from being a lone woman to being healer and ambassador of the Ashen Armada. It was a high position to hold and she felt that she did it justice. She had healed both the warlord and the Empress. She had added to the stores that sustained them all. She'd crafted items to make their move easier when they went to retake their former home. All in all, the tiny woman felt that she had more than pulled her weight thus far.

Coming out of the sunlight and into the grove of lush vines and trees, the tiny dame shrugged out of the harness, leaving the little, two wheeled cart behind. She had all the time in the world and chose to simply stroll and relax for a time. Her dusty blue nose led her to a quaint, babbling stream where she bent her neck to slake her thirst. One satisfied, she pulled up a patch of soft grass and sprawled out upon her stomach, hind leg extended. Rays of sunlight spattered the area around her. A rather relaxing setting, she thought.

Removing the pack from around her neck, Iolaire pushed it aside. If she became tired, the pack served as a decent pillow. For now, however, she would simply soak up the scenery and enjoy a little bit of time to herself. Or maybe she wouldn't... Obsidian ears swiveled, catching the soft whisper of movement upon grass. Someone or something was coming.

Pyrrhic shook his head to clear the memory away and then continued wandering the viney cathedral. The place was rich with memories. He knew why his father had chosen to move, and he loved the castle they'd made their base of operations, but being here now and smelling that sweet muscadine scent every time he crushed a vine underfoot brought him home. This was the place of his birth. No matter where he went or where the Abraxas set down roots, this would always be his home.

He was caught unawares by the presence of the mortal woman. Were it not for the movement of her ears Pyrrhic might have overlooked her. She was close - possibly even made uncomfortable by his accidental nearness - so there was no ducking away wordlessly or feinting ignorance now that he had turned to look at her.

"Oh um..." His ears fell back briefly. In all honesty Pyrrhic wasn't sure he was up for the challenge of conversation. There was safety in solitude. He didn't need to be afraid of cracking. He pinched his eyes shut for a moment to rid himself of the negative thoughts. When they reopened his eyes were clear, his misgivings well hidden. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

A large man soon came into view. Light on top fading into  darkness below. He was a handsome beast, that was for certain. Forepaws pressed into the ground, bringing the woman into a seated position. It wouldn't do to meet someone in such a leisurely pose. Especially since she didn't know yet if he was friend or foe. Should he attack, it would be much harder to escape if she was laying down.

Low tones met onyx ears and Iolaire gave a gentle shake of her skull, replying in her own accented tones. "No need to apologize." He seemed a little upset at their meeting as his ears tucked against his skull momentarily. Perhaps he was simply shy. Or maybe he didn't wish to speak. Either way was fine with her. She could do silent.

Head canted slightly and one silver brow raised as she posed her query. "Would you like to join me for lunch?" She had herb soaked dried oxen strips in her pack. She always brought them when traveling and she always brought extra just in case she  crossed paths with company.

Though it didn't show on his face Pyrrhic was surprised by her invitation to share a meal. It was an unusual thing to offer a stranger - at least in his opinion. But then again, he wasn't exactly concerned with goodwill towards mortals unless there was something in it for him. Which made him wonder...was that the woman's motivation for offering? Pyrrhic knew there were those who did nice things out of the goodness of their hearts - his mother was one such person - but he, not being one of those people, was always on the lookout for persons such as himself. It could be hard to tell who was who especially in the beginning so it was in his best interest to be vigilant in this encounter.

Oh, uh..." His neutral expression softened into one of thanks as though her goodwill warmed him. It didn't - couldn't - simply because of his self-serving nature. He wouldn't allow himself to think her kind until he knew for sure she wasn't after something. Pyrrhic simply couldn't be any other way with a stranger. Especially one being nice for reasons unknown. "Yes, I'd like that. Thank you, that's very kind," he said with a gentle smile.

He  seated himself within meal-sharing range but was careful to be mindful of her personal space. His reason for being mindful wasn't out of concern for her feelings, at least not at the heart of it. For now, not knowing who he was dealing with or what sort of person she was, his default was to play nice. "The name's Pyrrhic, Pyrrhic Abraxas." His nose twitched and his heart grew heavy as the smell of the offered meal reached his nose. His father had been experimenting with drying meats for some time before his death. Though Malleus hadn't experimented with that particular meat it reminded Pyrrhic of him all the same.

The man, though seemingly uncomfortable, agreed to join her. Iolaire nodded and began nosing into her pack. He was a big guy, so she pulled out a few strips of the herb soaked steaks. After placing a few beside her where he might rest, she pulled one out for herself and placed it between snowy toes.

After settling himself a respectable distance away, he gave his name, which Iolaire accepted with a nod, as was her way. "I am Iolaire Akeldama. Healer and Ambassador of the Ashen Armada." The tiny woman flashed a momentary grin "It's a mouthful, I know." She knew nothing of the Abraxas line. Nor anything of the pack that the brute was a part of. It didn't matter anyway. Iolaire was a firm believer in judging someone for their actions rather than their home or upbringing. If he conducted himself well, things would go well. If he didn't, then she'd look upon him negatively.

Silence settled between them as the pair ate. Iolaire held the dried meat with her paws, tearing off bites which she chewed thoroughly before swallowing. Once her meat was gone, the diminutive fae licked any clinging remnants from the pristine white fur. She then took a deep breath and released it long and easy. This was a lovely place and she was quite appreciative that her company wasn't a chatterbox. It was easier to soak up the atmosphere that way.

The Ashen Armada. Perhaps Ashen, the pack of the dead heretic Archon, had decided its name needed an upgrade to help set it apart? Surely Archon's influence hadn't been so great that a mortal pack had adopted elements of the Abraxas pack structure. Now the gears were really turning in Pyrrhic's mind. If that's what they had done and if his influence had been so great, how else had the pack been impacted by that bastard's presence? It was a troubling thought to say the least.

None of his misgivings showed on his face, however. He kept them to himself and rolled the possible problem around as he ate. The meat was good. Odd in a plant-y, vaguely green tasting kind of way thanks to whatever she'd added to it, but good still. She'd succeeded in hitting that sweet spot between too dry and underdone and he wondered how long she'd been at it.

At last he offered, "You did a good job on this. My father smoked meats and while I can't claim to be a connoisseur I do know how much work goes into getting it right." He swallowed the last of his portion and then added, "It's good stuff."

Ears perked as Pyrrhic began to speak. He spoke of his father having dried meats and  of knowing that the process was arduous.  A compliment followed and the woman grinned. "Thank you.  You're right, it's a difficult process that took me a long time and many failed attempts to perfect." 

The dark lady continued.  "I do make sweeter meats,  savory, spicy. This particular type is soaked in herbs that give a boost of energy. As a healer, I walk long distances to collect herbs.  It gets tiring." If only she could make a batch that would stop her paws from aching after a long walk. She could trade it for everything.  Be a self made wolf. 

Silence stretched between them for a time.  During that time,  Iolaire had risen from her place and had gone to inspect some of the thicker vines. A few were the right width and she gave them a tug,  testing their strength.  The woman's thick,  foxlike tail flicked back and forth as she thought about a game plan.

His ears pricked at the variety of flavors she had tried out and her reasoning for infusing the meat he'd just eaten. It made sense. His father had used all sorts of plants to treat illnesses and mend wounds, so why not infuse the food they ate with the things that would help them? It was ingenious, really. "That's impressive," he said, his tone genuine. "My father would have loved that. He was a healer too and he was always looking for ways to improve his craft." The corners of his mouth turned down in sorrow as he remembered the man. Finally Pyrrhic added with a soft smile, "I have no doubt he would have been thrilled to learn how you did it."

Pyrrhic watched with a veiled expression as Iolaire inspected the nearby vines. He wasn't sure what she was doing and he didn't like not knowing, but he also hated to ask without having some sort of an idea already. He didn't need to be right in his assumptions, he just needed to have them. As it stood he had no clue why she might be poking around the vines. Medicinal value, maybe? If they had some sort of healing properties his dad surely would have made use of them when they lived here. So what then?

He gave up and settled on asking. She wouldn't know the state of his thoughts anyhow. "Looking for anything in particular? Maybe I can help; it's kind of the least I can do seeing as you fed me and all."

Pyrrhic continued to speak about his father. Iolaire was both surprised and impressed with the respect in the man's voice as he spoke of his father. So many wolves detested their parents for one reason or another. It was a welcome change. She listened as he spoke of his father's expertise in drying meats and proclaimed that the deceased wolf would have been thrilled to learn. The small woman laughed softly. "And I'd have been thrilled to trade knowledge with him as well."

Having risen and moved off to mess with the vines, Io was so busy pondering that she hadn't realized the flecked mans approach at first. When he spoke, green-gold eyes widened momentarily before she motioned to the vines with a dusty blue nose. "I've built a wheeled cart. Quite large and cumbersome." She cast a sidelong glance at the man. "A gift for my giant brother, Sirius." The little healer gave another gentle tug of the vines. "I need to craft a harness so that he might pull it and I believe these vines might be strong enough to hold together while he's pulling the cart." Tilting her head slightly, she questioned the man. "What do you think?