Her meeting with Tyrian had - for lack of a better word - gone poorly. Aryn had tried everything short of begging to convince the man to leave the poor goats be and still he was unconvinced. She'd gone home disappointed and unable to find sleep, picturing only the poor goat's head upon a stake and how terrifying that environment must be for the critters beneath Tyrian's iron paw. While she was not the bravest nor the strongest of the Lirim wolves, Aryn knew she couldn't just forget about the encounter. Somebody had to do something, and without many prey-sympathizers in her small circle of acquaintances the job was left to her alone.

It did not take her long to find Tyrian's home, she'd passed by it multiple times on the way to the Soulless Forest. It was a good thing too, because Aryn did not have enough faith in her tracking skills to find the stale scent and follow it had his home been further away. Coming up upon the Knolls was one of the most stressful experiences of her life and the yearling's paws trembled as they carried her further.

Her bravery waned with every step she took, eventually running dry just before she could cross the border. Aryn swallowed hard, peering cautiously across the knolls to see if anyone was on their way to maim or murder her for daring to be so close. She'd been preparing to turn and leave when the scent of the livestock reached her, their forms barely visible in the distance as they grazed.

"Psssst." Aryn whispered into the grass. Failing to catch their attention, she clicked her tongue to them and then ducked when she realized how loud the sound was in comparison. Were there babies out there? Could she lure one to her and take it to safety? The stress of the mission was killing her, though she continued to click and cluck and whisper to try and call to her a poor helpless goat.

Upon spying Aryn, Tyrian had done a double take. In truth he hadn't thought he'd see the girl again. As far as first impressions went he didn't think they'd have reason to cross paths a second time and he certainly hadn't expected to find her on his border whisper calling his livestock. What was she trying to do, exactly? If she was trying to call for that damn buck she was wasting her time. As Tyrian had suspected, the dumb beast had settled in nicely and was quite happy to spend time in the herd with the ladies. So happy, in fact, that he had developed the annoying habit of ignoring calls to come in for the night if it suited him to stay out.

His tail twitched from side to side as he watched Aryn from a nearby gully. What to do, what to do... With the way she talked when they'd met he got the distinct feeling if he didn't do something now he was going to have a livestock vigilante on his paws. While the idea of him having to fend her off his livestock with a stick was amusing, it didn't sound like the wisest situation to let play out. Nope, best to nip it in the bud. Bonus was that he thought he could get a laugh in the process.

Rising from his hiding place, Tyrian slunk through the tall grasses with a stealthiness that was at odds with his overall big blueness. Very quickly he was well outside Fireside's border and sneaking back. He settled onto his belly once he was within pouncing distance and then, when the moment was right, sprang from the shadows roaring, "THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" With any luck he'd chase her over the border and then the real fun could begin.

Aryn was just beginning to work up the courage to approach closer so that her whispered calls might be heard a little clearer over the knolls. Her paws were inching forward though they shook each time she lifted them off the ground, her every fur was on edge and ready to flee at the smallest, tiniest noise. Never had the girl been so focused in her entire life and in fact she may have been a little bit proud of how obviously well that this stealthy stalking was going. In fact she was so pleased with her mastery of the skill that a small grin had begun to touch at her lips, new confidence driving her slowly forward.

He flew from the bushes and Aryn's reaction was as immediate as it got. The border ceased to exist and Aryn's own klutzy paws became her downfall. What was supposed to be a full-out-sprint for life and limb was short and sad, her small form suddenly tumbling over into Fireside territory and her face crashing hard into the grass below.

A terrified, anguished scream sounded and it's volume quickly surpassed Tyrian's own roar. Was that her voice? Oh no she was going to die, here and now. Her head would be upon a pike beside the late goat male's, her death a warning to any future vigilante's that Tyrian's iron paw was not one to be crossed. "PARLAY, PARLAY!" She cried, her paws thrown over her head hastily as she curled into a shuddering ball. Fireside were some, pirate.. crew, right? Aryn wasn't sure, maybe she was getting her information crossed. Though if they were pirates, she'd heard enough tall tales that she was almost perfectly confident that it was something you were supposed to demand from them so they'd not eat you. If not, well, perhaps Aryn would learn to put less stock in fairy tales.

The scream was almost enough to make him break character then and there. It rang harshly in his ears and temporarily deafened him. God she had some pipes. Any second now he expected the coyotes in the orchard to start howling. It was almost enough to cause Tyrian real, physical pain - and yet it was still hard not to laugh at Aryn's expense. Her reaction had been priceless and if he had been any less committed to his tough love approach he would have given it up then.

He followed her to the ground, his much larger form enveloping her as she curled into a ball beneath him. That was fine. There was a massive size difference between them; he'd just lay on her. She wasn't going anywhere. "Hi, Aryn," he said in a normal voice. "You...wouldn't be thinking about stealing my goats, would you? Because that, in addition to this whole trespassing thing you're doing now..." He motioned to the Fireside land she was now laying on. Teehee. "Is a very serious offense and crying parlay might not be enough to save you..."

He knew her name - he knew her name, he was laying on her, and soon he'd be decapitating her. The facts were impossible to ignore and harder still as his weight pushed down around her. "No!" Aryn was not a liar, though when your life depended on it she supposed even a lady was allowed to fib. "I, I was returning one. You missed it! Poor little baby goat just wandering all by his lonesome so I just led him on in he's way out there with his mama now!" Her striped paw lifted to jab over the knolls, gesturing wildly to where the fictional baby goat supposedly nursed his mother. Gods did she hope he'd release her, go check it out, and she could flee.

There was a whole other issue she could not lie away, trespassing. "Trespassing?" Aryn repeated meekly. Without any single idea on how to weasel out of that one, she spoke the first thing that came to her mind. "Are you sure?"

Uh huh, a lost baby. Sure. And she just happened to be in the area. Tyrian lifted his head to look around and make sure none of the sheep or goats had come over to investigate the racket. If they were smart - and he seriously doubted it - they would have recognized the sound meant murder and run for the hills. "I think you're lying to me." He peeked back down at her. "I think you came here to steal my goats." He didn't actually think she'd come here for that, but he couldn't discount it as a possibility. Why else would she have turned up on his border and called to his livestock without saying a word to the herders or to him?

"Oh, I'm sure of it, my dear." His tone was still casual. Now that he was invested in this charade he didn't know where to stop. Did he wait for tears and/or piss? Technically, he mused wryly to himself, he was the alpha; he could stop where he damn well pleased. "Saw you run in with my own eyes. Are you telling me my eyes lied? Bullshit!" As though considering what to do next, he hummed and then said, "No, the only real question left is what to do with you." Tyrian peeked down at her again. "What do you value more: your freedom or your nose?"

This mission was stupid, just stupid! Aryn could tell even curled beneath him that Tyrian meant business, he was a mighty specimen of a man and she knew she'd not be able to slink away from this with merely a warning. "OK, I'm sorry, I came to steal your goat." She admitted softly, unable to continue the lie. Honesty was important, right? For her honesty he'd need to be merciful, any gentleman would be. "Singular, goat. Just one." Her head squished closer to the ground in the attempt to distance herself from his terrifyingly calm words, eyes wide as she tried to sneak a peak up through her toes to catch his expression.  

His next question terrified her further, and her initial response was nothing more than a sad, shocked whimper. The cogs in her mind tried desperately to unwind his words and figure out his game - would he simply take the lesser that she chose? Or maybe the opposite? Completely overcome by fear she blurted out the first draft of an answer. "Um.. neither? No wait, both? Can't you just like.... take a tooth or something? I'm so, so sorry."

Well fuck he hadn't expected a confession. Now he was left with a moral dilemma. Could he convict based on intention? Because technically no crime had been committed; she hadn't even really trespassed willingly since he'd chased her over the border. But and this was the important bit, she'd meant to steal from him. Conflicted, he growled to himself and then huffed in annoyance.

His annoyance faltered. A better question, and something he really needed to get in the habit of considering lest he become soft, was what did he want to do about it? Never mind what was right or wrong. What did he, Tyrian, King Shit of Fireside, want to do. This was his land and unlike certain fictional lions, both everything the light touched and everything it did not belonged to him.

Tyrian rolled his eyes to himself and then got up. Her scent hadn't gone unnoticed and had he been a different man he might have been tempted to teach her a lesson in another way, but that wasn't his style. "Keep it." He shrugged. "Your freedom, your nose, your...teeth." He pointed a claw at her. "But if I catch you doing this shit again I'll take it out of your hide. Get it through your pretty head: my goats are fine."

It seemed her admittance had angered him, a growl slipping out while he considered. Aryn waited quietly for him to gather his thoughts and decide upon her punishment, already coming to terms with how it might be to be nose-less or worse, locked forever in a barn.

He did not need long to think, and when he moved off of her Aryn was sure it was only to give him more room to bite and maim and maul. Though in the end he'd allowed her both her freedom and her nose, and Aryn let out a heavy relieved sigh in response."Oh, thank you, thank you." She grovelled. "I owe you one, I really do. And I always keep my promises." He'd shown himself a true gentleman, stepping back from the violence when he had every right to deliver punishment and - she flushed as she realized - he had called her pretty, too!

Tyrian waved an aggravated paw at her. The only reason she hadn't gotten worse was because he sensed her harmless naivety. If she'd had any real understanding of what she was doing he'd have eaten her alive and spiked her head somewhere as a warning to like-minded individuals. He didn't mess around with stuff like this. Only the stupid, squishy soft part of his heart had kept her from literally getting fucked and added to a harem. "Oh, don't give me that shit. What the fuck is wrong with you? Any sane rancher would have eaten you for lunch."

Avoiding her gaze, he dusted his chest and legs off. Bits of dirt and leaves littered his coat from his tumble to the ground, but he could only get so much of it without a mirror. "You're lucky," he groused angrily. "That I'm too fucking nice." Someday he would change that. He'd do what he wanted without worrying what others thought of him.

You know what, now was as good a time as any to be less nice. "Yeah, you do owe me, so how about you pay up now." He had no idea what she'd offer or even if she'd brought stuff with her on this goat stealing mission, but he wanted something in return for his too-niceness.

From upon the ground he was terrifying, though when she moved to stand and knew that for the moment she was safe it was easier to be brave. She'd met him once before in the forest after all and he'd seemed like a genuinely decent man even if he had no consideration for the mental health of his livestock. He was speaking to her normally now, and while his words were far from how she'd expect a proper man to speak she figured she could forgive it given the situation.

"I just was checking on them." Aryn insisted softly, watching him dust off the leavings of the ground from his coat. "I didn't plan to just, steal a goat and run. I just wanted to make sure -" She stepped forward towards and past the King, aiming to swat a stray leaf from his hindquarters with a striped paw before backing politely back out of his personal bubble. "- I don't know, It's not my business how you run your ranch." And it wasn't, although she still couldn't help but feel worried about how they'd left their last meeting. Just seeing the goat in question one more time whole and unharmed would be reassuring, but with a whole herd of them it was hard to distinguish from afar.

Taking her up on her offer was not something she expected from him and her eyes grew wide with alarm. Right now?? Of course she'd never go back on her word, and so her jaws simply parted as she thought hard on what exactly she could offer. She glanced around at her empty paws then back to his face, apologetic. "I could go home and see what I can find." Aryn began cautiously. Would he accuse her of just wanting an excuse to leave and never come back? She had to assure him that she wasn't hiding from the deal. "My father's the alpha, I'm not broke or anything I just didn't bring anything with me." Another pause as she thought harder. "Or I can stay and do some chores for you if you want. Or, or something else."

Her ears fell flat, shamed by the lack of options she could give him. Tyrian had done way too good of a thing and he was right - she was lucky he was nice. Aryn wanted to give him something that showed how grateful she was, but as far as ideas went she kept coming up empty.

His stomach flipped uncomfortably when she stepped forward and brushed a leaf off his butt. Unsure of how to process that, he frowned deeply and followed her paw to the ground with his eyes. How strange. He wasn't sure if he'd call it wholly unpleasant or what, but he wasn't thrilled with this naive wannabe goat thief and he didn't want it to happen again. His eyes slowly rose to hers and he fixed her with a look that was part sarcasm part incredulity. Really? She was going to brush stuff off him after all that?

"You're right, it's not." His eyebrows shot up in surprise as she admitted to being the daughter of an alpha. In aggravation his gaze shot heavenward and he stepped away for a second lest he smack her nose like she was a dumb puppy. He came back quickly, his movements a wee bit aggressive. "Seriously? Your daddy's an alpha? Great fucking plan you had there, genius! What do you think woulda happened if I hadn't been so nice, huh? What if I'd fucked you up and chucked you in the river? Or, I don't know, took your actions as an act of war? Whatdya think woulda happened to our packs, huh? I bet we'd have gone to war over you one way or another."

He shook his head angrily, both the 'price' she owed him and the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach forgotten. "How many wolves woulda been injured or killed because you just had to rescue a prey animal?" Tyrian pressed a paw down on the bridge of his nose, his claws scissoring over it in aggravation. "You might be an adult but shit, I hope your daddy busts your ass when you get home because if you were my kid I sure as shit would."

Aryn couldn't put into words exactly how badly she'd had messed up, but when Tyrian stepped away and back he was noticeably angrier. The air seemed to get colder and she shivered, her instincts warning her of the dangerous male's mood shift. His return towards her was fast and she flinched, peddling backwards frantically to regain her bubble of perceived safety. "I-" Each harsh word caused her head to retreat into her shoulders further, her tail beginning to tuck between her legs.

But he just kept on going, and going, and eventually her fear gave way to something else. He was treating her like a child, and while Aryn could understand it to a degree the insult still hurt. "Well lucky for you, you don't have to worry about that." She started. "My dad didn't go to war for my mother or my brother and I'm more useless to Lirim then either of them were." Aryn's head angled upwards to direct towards him as sour a look as she'd managed in seasons, her soft tone harboring an unusual bite. This man had pulled from her something that no other wolf had managed so far - aggravation.

No form of aggression ever came easily to her however, and as it faded away back into shame it drained whatever resistance she had left. Her posture faded once more into defeat. "Look, I'm sorry. I am. I swear I will not cross your border ever again." Unable to meet his eyes she merely directed her sad stare towards the ground, struggling to keep composure.

His eyes narrowed in response to her words. He had no idea what she was talking about and he didn't know if he cared enough to ask. What did her mother and brother have to do with anything? What kind of leader did her pack have? More importantly, what kind of man didn't fight for his wife and son? You know what? Right now he didn't care. Deciding whether or not her pack's alpha was a chickenshit seemed like alpha business for another day. Today he was dealing with her.

Tyrian leaned back, his expression settling into something unreadable. Her apologizing - again - had reminded him that he was owed something. "Well then he won't mind me keeping you for a few days." At this point he knew how tender her heart was; a few days cleaning up sheep shit and gutting carcasses would teach her a lesson. Tyrian stepped forward and poked a paw in her chest. "Consider yourself a prisoner of Fireside. You're going to stay here for a day or two. You'll sleep with the sheep and goats, clean up after them, and help me slaughter them." Until now he hadn't had any plans to slaughter anything, but now just for her someone was going to lose their head. If he wasn't so valuable it would have been that damn buck.

Aryn snuck a peek upwards at him to see his anger fade away into something identifiable, her pinned ears lifting hopefully from her skull. Was that it? It was over? Her weight shifted in anticipation of being released from his wrath, and then he spoke once more and her defeat returned. Only a few days, that wasn't awful. Torin wouldn't even need to know, she'd be home before he noticed the absence of his wanderlust daughter.

Though as she'd come to expect there was more, his words bringing her eyes to widen and water. "I-I can't do that." She argued softly, her back paws slowly shifting as her body begged her to flee. "You can't make me kill them." Aryn was full on begging, her body lowering closer to the grass in submission. Her paws twitched once more - could she outrun him? Likely not. Tyrian was muscular and fit, built for battle and likely with stamina that would overwhelm hers three times over.

Rather then run, Aryn began to almost unconsciously inch away from the king, her chest rising and falling heavily with stressed breaths. How could any monster make her sleep with them, take care of them, and then kill them? Aryn was certain that Tyrian must be the cruelest wolf she'd ever met.

Immediately Tyrian knew he'd made the right call with this punishment. He watched the horror spread over her features and was somewhat pacified. They could have stood here all day; him yelling and threatening and her apologizing, and it wouldn't have given him as much retribution as the simple ranch tasks he now charged her with. She wouldn't forget this lesson. He could see it on her face. Knowing he now had complete control of the scene leveled off his temper; she was clay in his paws. "I can," he said calmly. And he would. He was now convinced he knew just what to say to get her to do anything.

She looked like she was about to run so he slipped into a crouch. Every step she crept backwards he took back with the slow, slinking steps of a big cat on the prowl. "You're going to do exactly what I say because if you fight me on this, I'll add to your slaughtering list." He dropped his head so their eyes were level. "How many would you rather kill? One lamb or five?"

"You're a wolf, Aryn, you can handle this." If she ran he was going to tackle her and drag her to the barn. Tyrian had made up his mind. This was a fitting punishment. If, later her dear ole dad had a problem with it, he was fairly certain he could explain himself and get away with it. These were harmless ranch chores and she was a naughty trespasser who'd expressed her desire to steal from him. No other wolf would be fighting tears over a year old lamb. He'd picked his punishment well.

Every bone in her body was telling Aryn to run, but each slow step he took seemed to be twice her own and she knew that no escape was possible. For a brief fleeting moment she considered fighting him off, but the idea was as laughable as any that she'd had since stepping towards Fireside's border. Regardless she clung to hope, desperate to get herself out of this inhumane punishment when Tyrian put towards her a question that lodged itself right into Aryn's heart.

Her paws grew still and she sighed, turning her head once more and blinking rapidly to force away the tears that pricked behind her eyes. "One." She whispered bitterly in response. He'd beaten her in this, she knew it as well as he did. Tyrian's next sentence brought her to spare him another glance, her eyes narrowing into the smallest, most defiant glare. It was a low blow although the king surely did not mean it to be - Aryn's reluctance to maim or murder animals was the main reason she felt a burden to Lirim, 'you can handle this' was something she'd told herself often and regardless of the mantra she never had been able to overcome her aversion to violence.

Aryn looked back towards the distant herd, once more to Tyrian and then back once more. "Show me where I'll be sleeping, then." She murmured hastily, trying to confirm for him with as few words as possible that she'd do as he asked. Too much out of her mouth and she worried the tears would start to fall.