She had started to lose track of how many days it had been since Sirius rescued her from her fate of starving to death while chained to the ground. Each day was pretty much the same. She would wake up, do some of the stretches that the Warlord taught her, she'd have some breakfast, spend some time moving around the territory collecting herbs just to keep rebuilding her muscles and make herself useful. The training that Sirius had promised seemed to be paused for the time being, but she didn't mind. He was focusing on something with his family and she was content to quietly keep to herself like she continued to slowly put on weight and recover.

Her ribs were still visible along her sides, but they were far less distinct than they once had been. Her coat had started to regain some luster now that she was able to keep it clean more consistently and was eating properly again. She had mostly avoided any of the other wolves in the pack, unsure of how she was supposed to approach them if at all. As far as she knew she was still a slave or a handmaid as Sirius had put it - though she had yet to meet the woman he said she was supposed to care for. Did slaves in this pack interact with the other wolves normally? Were there any other slaves or was she the only one?

She had found a lambs ear plant and was collecting a small pile of the leaves, a soft smile on her face. Well, even if she spent the rest of her days here quietly on her own she would be more than happy. Never in her life had she just been allowed to live as she wished like this and this small bit of autonomy was liberating.

"Speech"

Mortis trotted along the Armada border, wondering where his Father had darted off to this time. He had taken off like the wind, and Bast had come trotting along some time later to tell the Winged boy that he was to run patrols and keep an eye on the Armada for now. He scowled, kicking at a loose stone in the earth before him. He was supposed to be training to… what, take over the pack some day? Or at least help keep it floating for now. Anything else could wait.

But how was he supposed to do that if communication started and ended with Sirius? Shaking his head, the boy turned inwards, intending to check on the stores. Instead, he found a small, skinny, girl collecting herbs in the plains.

He recognised her scent, he had caught it here and there along the territory. He knew she was a wolf that Sirius had dragged home - something he had not done for some time now. That was about all he knew of the girl. Folding his wings lightly to his side, he trotted over. “Hello! We haven’t met yet, but I’m Mortis Fatalis, my father brought you home some time ago, right?”

"Mortis Fatalis"

A cheerful voice caught her off guard, too caught up in her herb gathering to notice his presence at first. She jumped a little, dropping the leaf she had just picked as her head popped up to look at the man that approached her. He had an incredibly similar look and stature to Sirius, including the elongated fangs and the white markings over his eye, but there was one very distinct feature that she had never once seen on any wolf. She blinked in surprise as she took in this massive wolf and the wings folded in at his side, for a moment to stunned to even think of how to respond to introduction and question. She tried to recover quickly though, rising so she could face him properly and giving him a dip of her head as her mind caught up with the present.

She wasn't at all surprised to hear him refer to Sirius as his father. He took after the older man quite a lot, though right away she could pick up on the fact that he was more friendly and out going than the Warlord. "Yes, sir," she replied with a soft smile, naturally keeping her head dipped slightly in a submissiveness she didn't even realize she was doing. "I'm happy to finally meet one of the Warlord's children. He spoke of you and your siblings quite fondly." Settling back onto her haunches once more, she added, "I'm Iris. A pleasure to meet you, sir." She neatened up the pile of lamb's ear she had knocked over in her hurry to face him, shyly glancing at his wings again. It didn't even seem like something that could be real. He was only the second wolf she had met since coming here and so far she was two for two with wolves that were incredibly tall and now she had met one with wings!

"Speech"

That was jarring. The winged boy felt heat rise in his cheeks at her response. ‘Sir’? He wasn’t Sir anybody. But the next sentence was the most jarring yet. “Did he?” he blurted out in surprise. When had Sirius ever spoken about Mort with pride? The bumbling awkward none-fighter.

He shuffled his feet, embarrassed at his own surprise, before his grin came back to settle across his maw. He reached over and plucked at a leaf that was trying to escape her pile, and tucked it back under her paw. “Iris - that's a really nice name. Did your parents name you after your eyes?” Thanks to Io, he knew a couple things about flowers and herbs. Enough to know that Iris’s came in the same shade as her eyes. He glanced back at them again, and grinned as he realised the way her markings opened up like petals around them. They really were a striking feature.

“I bet you have to beat the boys away with a stick” he added with a spark of friendly amusement, before raising his paw “Of course, now that you're part of the Armada, you’ll have me to do it for you.” It had been… a long time since new blood had made their way to the Armada, since he had introduced himself to them. He remembered the way he used to seek all of them out, offer his welcome and help them feel at home. That was familiar in a way that almost hurt, but it was a good memory. He just wanted to make Iris smile.

"Mortis Fatalis"

She was surprised by the shock he seemed to have at her statement, but maybe it wasn't all that surprising once she thought about Sirius a bit more and considered how stoic and gruff he seemed at times. Maybe he wasn't the type to openly tell his children that he was proud of them, but she she wasn't sure about that either since he did show an awful lot of softness in how he cared for her when she first arrived. There had to be more to it, but it most certainly wasn't her place to say anything of the sort or question him on it.

She tensed only slightly as he moved closer, almost imperceptible in the tightening of her shoulders as he reached over to pick up one of the leaves she was collecting to put it back into the pile she had gathered. Her automatic response to all of these large males that seemed to live here had diminished some since she arrived, but that automatic instinct still remained no matter how much she tried to force herself to relax. It was her turn to be surprised when he complimented her name, making her lift her gaze back from the leaves at her feet to look at him. It was the first time she had ever really received a compliment like this and she smiled softly, shyly glancing back down at her feet. "The irises near where I was born had more purple and indigo hues to them so I think it was more for my fur than my eyes, but... yes, something like that. I'm not sure though - I haven't seen my parents since I was very little."

She truly tried to think nothing of his statement about "beating men off with a stick" knowing it was just a turn of phrase, especially considering the amusement she could hear in his voice, but it was difficult to pull a similar smile across her features. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know how right he was, except the fighting back that would have required would have just done her more harm than good in her situation. She looked at him for a moment when he mentioned how he was here to fight them for her now that she was in the Armada and she silently wondered if he would actually fight for a slave or if it was just more kind words. "Well... That's very kind of you to say," she said politely, giving him another smile before she bent her head to pick up the pile of leaves at her paws so that she could carry them back to the den she had been staying in.

"Speech"

He glanced up at her in a quick motion as tensed. Dropping the herb in her pile became a little more cautious, and he backed up afterwards. Giving her space. As he settled down across from her, she looked up at him and explained her own experience with Iris’s. The mention of not seeing her parents was another hint, one he might have brushed past with his naivety if it hadn’t also been for her subtle flinch.

It left him wondering if his words on beating off men with a stick… wasn’t so innocent as he had meant it. He flexed his claws through the soil absently as he considered her. When she went to pick up her herbs his automatic response was to jump forward and offer his help. He managed to put on the breaks before he shoved himself back into her personal space, however. “Oh, uh, let me help?” he suggested, holding out a paw for her to deposit herbs into if she wished.

“Iris…” he said softly as he waited for her to accept his help or not. “Did somebody hurt you?”


"Mortis Fatalis"

Iris noticed how he immediately backed off and sat down across from her and even though she was grateful for the little bit of extra breathing room he allowed her to have, she did feel guilty for making him feel like he had to do that. He was nothing but nice and enthusiasticly friendly. It wasn't even the case of him carrying himself with any kind of domineering personality like Sirius did. He seemed like a genuinely kind soul and yet she still couldn't keep herself from reacting to him in the same way that she would any other male. She hoped that with time she'd be able to move past it, but she did wonder if she'd ever fully move on from her past. Those scars didn't just fade away on their own it seemed and that pain wasn't going away with kindness alone.

She looked up at him again when he quickly offered her his help as she went about gathering up the collection of lambs ear she had around her feet, glancing at his outstretched paw. She hesitated because she was unsure if the Warlord's son should really be allowed to help their slave, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings twice in a row. She gave a small nod and placed half of the pile in his large paw. She was about to pick up the rest of the now much more manageable pile when his voice caught her attention again, making her stop in the middle of her motion to bend her head down as he questioned her.

Her pink hued eyes looked up to him again, her ears flicking uncertainly. It was easy to forget that everyone here wasn't like the slavers that had owned her for most of her life. He hadn't seen her in the near death state that Sirius had so how would he have known what her past was? Did he even know that she was a slave? Or was she just some new member to the pack that he happened across? There was a moment of silence while she tried to decide how she should respond before she finally settled on, "Many someones." Her voice was soft, but not hurt or timid. It was a fact of her life that she had accepted long ago. She didn't like these facts, but they were part of her and there was no changing them now. "I'm a slave," she clarified, feeling as if he deserved to know the truth. "None of my previous owners have been as kind as your father has been. They were much more cruel."

"Speech"

The winged boy gasped softly, some emotion flitting across his face as he clenched his paw. She had been hurt. Many times, in fact. She told him that she was a slave, like that was some kind of justification. He itched with the need to wrap his wings around her. This soft, abused girl with eyes that were somehow still kind despite everything she had gone through. He wasn’t a fool, however. If just him standing near her had made her flinch, enclosing her in his wings was likely to send her into a panic.

How wings sagged lightly at his side, he hadn’t even realised he had begun to raise them. “I-I’m sorry Iris. I didn’t know.” he shuffled his free paw awkwardly, making sure he didn’t crush the herbs she had deposited into his other. “Sirius… isn’t really a slave keeper” he said naively. “But he’s the boss, and we are all his people. Whatever his faults, he’ll protect you, and I will too, Iris.” He promised. “If anybody hurts you, or you feel threatened, you can come to me. I’ll protect you.” He didn’t have much heart when it came to fighting to prove his strength, but he was all heart when it came to protecting.

"Mortis Fatalis"

She was quick to give a small shake of her head when he apologized, giving him a soft smile. "It's okay. I didn't expect you to know." She didn't mean to make him feel bad and she didn't want him to feel bad for her either. Her past was her past and as long as things kept going the way they were she hoped it could stay that way. There was a sense of walking on egg shells still as if she was still uncertain if this life that she was suddenly given could be taken away from her at any moment or not, but Sirius assured her that this was her home now and Mortis more or less did the same. She hadn't known any of them very long, but what he said about Sirius felt at least mostly true. She couldn't overlook the fact that he had come to a slave camp assuringly with the intent of buying so the statement of him being a slave keeper didn't feel entirely true, but he was by far the kindest master she had ever had.

His son seemed to have that kindness in leaps and bounds and she found herself smiling more easily as he assured her that she could come to him for protection. His expression and tone felt genuine and she had no doubt that he meant what he said. "Thank you... I'll remember that," she replied sweetly, her tail giving a soft swish behind her. She went to pick up her herbs again, telling him, "The den I've been using is this way." She picked up the leaves and walked the short distance to the den, slipping inside to stow the herbs in the bag Sirius and handed over to her the first night she was here.

Picking it up and turning to face Mortis, she held it open so he could put in his portion of them before putting it back beside the bed of furs. "Thank you for your help." It was still so strange to have someone assisting her like this so readily - or at all, if she was being honest - and she couldn't help but smile as she looked up at the much larger man. Once they were outside of the den again, she glanced curiously at his wings, giving a little tilt of her head. "If... you don't mind me asking... Can you... fly?" she asked uncertainly, the idea sounding crazy in her own ears.

"Speech"

What did one say to a wolf that had lived there life in slavery? A part of him had a morbid curiosity at what she had suffered through, but he knew there were no words he could say that would make it better. Better to leave it be.

He offered her a warm grin as she promised to remember what he said. He transferred the bundle of herbs he held from his paw to his mouth, holding them lightly there in fear of crushing them.

Arriving at the den she obviously must be using, he leaned forward and deposited the herbs into the offered bag. Once his mouth was free, he had a look around at the spacious den. There was warm bedding, some built in shelves and what looked like a branching room. Had this den been made with more wolves in mind? Who knew what his father had been thinking.

She walked out of the den again, so of course he followed her, taking another inconspicuous glance around to ensure all her needs were being met. He took a seat just outside the space, and glanced at the other wolf with a wry smile. “Ahh… No, but they did lead me into tree climbing a lot when I was younger” he admitted.


"Mortis Fatalis"

She grinned and chuckled at the thought of him climbing trees, trying to imagine what a man as big as him might have looked like as a pup. She didn't have many opportunities to be around pups, but the few times she had she always loved their sweet innocence. Even the ones that had been sold into slavery like herself always started out with such hope, looking for the brightest things in the darkest moments. She had always done her best to shield them from the darkness happening around them, but it never failed that eventually they would stop asking their silly questions, they would stop beaming at her when she found something silly to do with them. Slowly that darkness would creep in on them just like it had on her and she would watch that brightness fade away.

"I'm sure you were adorable as a child while you were climbing trees," she joked, desperately trying to shove away her train of thoughts. Living in a place like this she was sure he was afforded a far nicer childhood than she had endured, but she didn't hold any sort of jealousy or malice toward him for it. She knew of some slaves that resented the wolves that owned them or lived above them, but she didn't - especially not for wolves like Sirius or Mortis who were kind to her. She held a heavy resentment for the wolves that hurt her and for the man that took her from her family, but never for these wolves that were helping her.

Suddenly she realized that her statement made it sound like he wasn't adorable now and she paused for a moment, stumbling over her words as she tried to catch herself. "I mean... Not that you're not adorable now- I, um... Or attractive, I guess is a better word, but not that I should say... I'm mean-" she shut her mouth to make herself stop the tumbling words that only dug her hole deeper. Her face flushed hot with embarrassment and her pink eyes fell toward the ground while her ears folded back against her head. "I'm so sorry, sir, I shouldn't have said anything," she said in a rush, desperately trying to cover her tracks.

"Iris"

Mortis blinked in surprise at that. He supposed there were other wolves that had considered him a sweet thing as a child. Tamsyn for one came to mind, but the statement still seemed only personal, and made him blush. They stood in awkward silence for a moment, and then Iris was speaking again. Digging a hole as she told him he was still adorable, no, attractive. At this point, he was red from his ears to his nose.

It took him a moment to realise he wasn’t the only one blushing, as her words became more stammered and uncertain. Her posture folding in on itself, like she was deeply embarrassed, or… perhaps even afraid. “Oh… Iris.” he laughed softly. ’ I thought I was the only one that could make such a mess of my words. It’s okay, really. And please don’t Sir me, I'm just Mortis.” He said, spreading out a wing to touch the tip of it to her cheek. “Just Mortis, your…. Friend?” he suggested timidly.

"Mortis Fatalis"

She peeked up at him after a moment when she heard his laughter, blinking as he spoke about how he had thought he was the only one that could stumble over words like this and assured her it was okay - and telling her to not call him "sir". Her ears flicked uncertainly at that, wondering if it was really okay to call the Warlord's son only by his name, but when the feathered tip of his wing brushed her shoulder and he offered her the title of "friend" she blinked and looked at him with wide eyed surprise. It felt like one thing to offer her kindness or give her a little bit of help with carrying herbs back to the den, but to call her - a slave - his friend... that astounded her and took her and made it impossible for her to answer for a moment while she tried to gather her thoughts.

"I've... I've never had a friend before," she replied softly and shyly after a moment, a little smile pulling across her lips. Her blue tipped tail wagging against the ground gave away how she felt about the idea, her orchid gaze grateful as she looked up at this giant softy of a man. "That would be nice," she finally agreed after a moment, a rare, genuine smile pulling across her features. "I'd love to have you as a friend, Mortis." Calling him by his name still felt a bit odd, but she was sure that she would grow used to it over time. She gave him a questioning look, adding, "What do friends do? What kind of things do you like?"

"Iris"

It shouldn’t surprise him that she had never had a friend before. But, she was older than him, and he knew how painful it was not to have someone to lean on. How harsh her life must have been. To suffer atrocities before coming here. To be used and abused, and not have one single wolf in the world to lean upon.

He liked that little smile, it spoke of a quiet hope as she looked at him and agreed. They would be friends. His smile grew again, and he knew she would be okay. She would be safe in the Armada, she could leave behind her past and grow in this pack. She would be his friend.

He grinned and reached a wing forward to bop it gently against her shoulder. “I…. I don’t know, I haven’t really had much time for play these days. I guess I like to fish.” Hana had installed that like in him, but he wouldn’t let the thought bring him down.


"Mortis Fatalis"

Iris glanced at his wing as it tapped her shoulder, chuckling softly and grinning. His feathers were so soft and she was still so surprised that a wolf with wings even existed. He was so unusual to her, not just physically but with his personality as well. He was so much more kind than she ever would have anticipated and it was really the first time since she was very, very young that she remembered being around a male and not feeling nervous or as if she had to watch every step she took. She looked back up at him as he mentioned how he liked to fish and she smiled, nodding in agreement. "Okay! I haven't done much fishing, but that seems like a good time. It wouldn't hurt for me to get more experience with hunting either." She certainly appreciated the food she had been provided, but she didn't like feeling like she couldn't feed herself either if she ever needed to. Any way she could make herself for helpful seemed like a good idea.

She gave a tip of her head toward the river she remembered seeing at the edge of the territory while she was exploring and getting the lay of the land. "There's a river that way, right? Is it any good for fishing?" With her bit of herb gathering completed she didn't have any tasks to see to immediately so if he didn't mind spending the time with her then she was eager to give fishing a try now. "Unless you have something else you need to be doing, of course!" she quickly added, "Don't let me keep you from your usual tasks or anything."

"Iris"

The Winged Heir offered her the beginning of an excited smile at the prospect. When was the last time he let loose and had fun just for the sake of it? Not since Hana… he shook the thought away before it could bring him down. Keeping his attention on the pretty, flowery wolf before him.

“I’m still pretty new at fishing myself, but i’m sure we can figure it out together” he agreed. He watched Iri’s head tilt and nodded his head “There is a river that way, but my experience so far has been catching saltwater fish in the ocean. We can definitely see what's there though, and I'm done with my duties for the day… shall we?” he suggested, holding a wing out towards her.


"Mortis Fatalis"