Nila had been running for days, never staying to long in one place in fear that one of the syndicate members would be hunting her down to kill her for disobedience. For having the nerve to run off without permission. But she didn’t care if she’d bruised their egos, she was over a life of being property and being pushed around.

The summer heat beat down on her exhausted body, making her trip all the more miserable and exhausting. Lack of sleep made her more paranoid any time she thought she heard a noise behind her. She was being chased by the demons of her past now.

But she didn’t stop running until she came to the edge, to the water. She could see a mass of land off in the distance and determination fueled her as she dove into the water, her long lanky legs churning the water around her as she propelled her body through the water until she neared the beach.

She had gone as far south as she could. Putting as much distance between herself and the syndicate as possible. She had no supplies, no idea where she go for support. All she had ever known was them. And now she was alone… alone and free.

She wandered aimlessly around the land looking for a place to rest. Praying to find anyone who might offer her a helping hand. Eventually she stumbled upon the border of a pack. Their scent danced into her nose. Despite for a safe place to stay she threw her head back and called for someone, anyone to answer her call for asylum.

The clatter and clang of steel striking against steel echoed through the frosty winter air around the snow-covered grove. Below the bare branches of the thicket of trees, Artorias danced around through the snow and ice while Ember swung her sword at him, trying to catch his legs to hobble him. Artorias deftly avoided the attacks, deflecting blow after blow from his daughter with practiced ease while his paws moved in a blur across the ground. Ember had become a talented swordsman and he was immensely proud of her prowess. "Bine! Dar va trebui să fii mai rapid decât atât." Taunting his daughter, spurring her on as he deflected another swing and brought the flat end of his sword down to bump against her shoulder, indicating a direct hit.

Laughing playfully, Art ducked a swing from Ember's sword and then locked their blades together just as a howl from nearby sounded and caught his attention. The voice sounded desperate and urgent. Breaking out of their lock, Artorias sheathed his sword and cast Ember a look before leading the way across the grove to the voice that summoned him. The wolf wasn't hard to spot; a spot of russet fur against the white of snow and ice. She was a small thing, about the size of his daughter, and she looked absolutely exhausted, like she'd just run from one end of the world to the other.

Artorias hurried over to her, checking her for signs of injury or damage. "Hey! Are you all right?" he called to the stranger as he drew near, lowering his head to keep from intimidating her with his greater size. He didn't know who she was or where she had come from, but she sounded scared. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her more. "It's okay, you're safe here. You're-" Artorias' words drifted off as he caught the scent on the girl, a musk that made his fur bristle on instinct. She reeked of the Syndicate. Concern instantly turned to trepidation in the dire wolf's amber eyes, watching her with his guard up. "You're from the Syndicate." What was her purpose here? He hadn't seen this Syndicate wolf before, but any who bore Sephiran Saxe's scent were ones Artorias was immediately suspicious of.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"

Ember grunted as she lunged for her father again, swinging her sword in a wide arc that collided with his own blade with a loud clash of steel. As her training had advanced, Ember had asked for more difficult lessons and challenges from her sword master sire. So Artorias had upped her lessons, training her out in the snow and ice to get her used to fighting in difficult terrain. With her daintier paws crunching through the fresh snow and ice, Em darted back and forth as best she could, trying to outmaneuver her father and land a strike on him, but no matter how fast she moved, she just couldn't find an opening. Artorias blocked or deflected her every strike, eventually locking their blades together where his greater size and strength overpowered her. With a growl, Ember was pushed aside, ready to go again until a nearby howl distracted the two Carpathians.

After exchanging a look with her father, she followed in the direction of the call. The wolf they found waiting for them was a russet and black woman similar in size to herself, looking alone and panicked. Ember could feel the anxiousness radiating off this fae like waves. Something or someone was chasing her. As her father greeted the stranger, Em hung back, studying her with curious eyes. A rise in the wind brought the wolf's scent to her and both Ember and Artorias tensed up when they recognized the familiar stench of the Syndicate. Em's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing this wolf now. She didn't recognize her; hadn't seen her during all the times she'd reconned the pack. So who was she? Was she a spy sent by the Saxes? Or was she a refugee trying to flee from them?

"Ember Carpathius" | "Carpathian"

Nila didn’t have to wait long as two forms emerged from within the packlands. The first was a male who was larger than her, massive actually with hues of black blue and gray. She took a tentative step back and tucked her tail. Her instinctive reaction to everyone after life as a slave.

Her eyes darted to the other stranger. A woman who stood around the same height as herself, similarly colored to the first stranger before she focused back on the man who was speaking to her.

As his sentence fell quiet on his lips and his fur began to bristle she quickly dropped into her familiar submissive stance, attempting to make herself appear smaller, more invisible under his gaze. Her eyes shifting towards the ground now.

And then he said their name. And she quivered. Had she made a mistake calling for help here? He knew of her captors. Her owners. ”M-My name is Nila Chalet…I am a Sidi of the Syndicate” her voice quivered. ”I was a Sidi. I escaped. Ran as far from them as I could find…. Please help me” she looked up at the man with her eyes pleading.

”They’ll kill me if they catch me” tears welled in her eyes as her truth hung heavy in the air around her. She was entirely at the mercy of these strangers.

Artorias took note of the way the stranger's head lowered and her tail tucked beneath her upon his arrival. Signs of submission; of subservience. She was a wolf browbeaten into servitude. He recognized the look well in the faces of the slaves he had freed. Memories of Idalia's reactions to him when he'd freed her had been much the same. She looked away, down at the ground as she began to speak in broken and shaking words. Her name was Nila and she was a Sidi of the Syndicate. Artorias had no idea what a Sidi was, but judging by the way she behaved he assumed it must have been the name given to their slave rank. She had escaped their thrall and was seeking asylum now. She needed help.

Artorias' breath held in his lungs as his mind raced with thoughts and questions. This could well have been a ruse crafted by Sephiran to slip a spy into their midst. Nila could easily be an actor putting on a facade to get him to lower his guard. But what if she was telling the truth? What if she had escaped the Syndicate's grasp and was seeking shelter? Nila was right; if the Syndicate found her on her own, she'd be as good as dead. Artorias bit his lip, mulling over the complexities of the situation. He had a choice to make. Accept Nila into the Hallows and offer her shelter and succor or turn her away and leave her to fend for herself. The safer option would have been to reject her and chase her from his borders. She did reek of his enemy's pack, after all.

But something in Nila's eyes, in her voice, in the tears that fell from her eyes as she pleaded for his aid stayed his tongue. If she was pretending, then she was a damn good actor. And what if he was wrong? What if he turned her away just for her to be hunted down and slaughtered? Could he live with himself then? Was the Hallows not meant to be a bastion of safety and shelter to those who needed it most? Artorias glanced back over his shoulder to Ember, meeting his daughter's gaze. She was watching him intently, waiting to see how he would judge the runaway Syndicate wolf. Would he hold true to the tenets of the Hallows?

After a few moments of deliberation, Artorias breathed a sigh and turned toward Nila once more. "Rise, Nila Chalet," he instructed her with gentle tones. Nobody bowed or cowered in the Hallows, especially not those who came to them for help. "I am Artorias Carpathius, the Lord of Cinder and alpha of the Hallows. We will give you the asylum you seek—but it comes with conditions. If this is a ruse and you are here to do harm to us on the Syndicate's behalf, then Sephiran will be the least of your worries. Am I clear?" With his warning given, Artorias motioned for Nila to cross the borders into the protection of the Hallows. His fiery amber eyes kept scanning the horizon, looking for any signs of other Syndicate wolves nearby that might be looking for the fleeing slave.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"

The wolf at their borders introduced herself as Nila Chalet and begged for mercy and shelter from the Syndicate. She was a refugee, fleeing from that wretched pack in the north. Ember's eyes widened with surprised blinks. From what she had seen of the Syndicate from her spying and interactions with some of their wolves, Em didn't blame Nila for trying to run away. They were all awful, reprehensible, loathsome beings that deserved to be eradicated. If Nila was in danger from them, then they had to protect her. It was what the Hallows did; even her father couldn't deny that. He might not have wanted all out war with the Syndicate, but there was no way he could turn away a wolf in need of help.

Oceanic blue eyes moved from Nila cowering on the ground up to her sire, staring intently at him while she waited to see what he would do. Artorias hesitated, then he looked back at her. Ember met her father's concerned amber gaze with the resolute firmness in her own. She knew what she would do if she was him—what she wanted him to do—but would he? There was an unspoken question passed between them, a wordless challenge she issued to him. The choice was his, but she wanted him to do what was right. Thankfully he seemed to understand, as the next thing he did was bid Nila to stand and come into the Hallows. Ember's shoulders relaxed as she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Nila was safe now and they'd scored a blow on the Syndicate.

Ember stepped up alongside her dire-sized father, offering Nila a reassuring and welcoming smile. "C'mon Nila, we'll show you around. I'm Ember, and we're gonna keep you safe here. I promise." She turned to begin to lead the way from the snow and cold south towards the high walls of Hearthstone on the other side of the Hallows. The poor girl probably needed a good meal and rest after running from all the way from northern Boreas.

"Ember Carpathius" | "Carpathian"