You're being rescued, please to not resist

Before they got far on their trip back home, Plague's ears perked when Rava spoke softly, getting his attention with a simple "sir". He stopped, turning a curious emerald gaze down toward his new companion. He honestly hadn't expected her to speak again with how quiet and uncertain she had been thus far, but he was happy to hear her voice even if it was hoarse and quiet from a distinct lack of use. He was quiet while she explained how the slavers that had taken her captive had also stolen her cloak and how she would do better with it. His brows pulled together with thought, his expression darkening. These brutes, these wolves that made up the worst of the worst and and the scum of the earth, had not only captured her and locked her away for their own profit and pleasure, but had taken something from her that she clearly held so dear. With the state she was in he wondered how much longer she would have lasted in that cell. They had done this to her and she wasn't the only one. There were still so many wolves locked away, waiting for someone to come and buy them.

He had done his best to not engage the salvers to ensure that he got Rava out safely, but now that she was well out of reach of them and that had been accomplished the anger he had felt for those monsters returned. "What does your cloak look like?" he asked, waiting for her to answer before he gave her a small nod. He knew he had more than enough skill in crafting garments to make her a new cloak, but that wasn't really the point, was it? The point that he couldn't let these brutes continue to get away with doing these things to wolves as helpless as her. With a grim determination he slipped the pack off of himself and sat it at Rava's feet. "Take this and go hide in that stand of trees there," he told her, motioning to a cluster of trees maybe a half dozen feet away. "Stay there till I get back, alright? I'll try not to be long."

He didn't wait to see if she followed his instructions or not before he turned and went back toward the camp, no hesitation in his stride as he moved at an easy lope. As he got closer he picked the wolf he had purchased Rava from out of the crowd easily, moving toward him with all original traces of pleasantness wiped from his expression. The saver barely spared him a glance before Plague questioned him. "The girl says she had a cloak. Where is it?" The slave trader scoffed at him, grinning as he spared a glance toward one of his counterparts, a look that said 'can you believe this guy?' A snarl twitched at Plague's lips as the lead slaver gave a nod toward him to one of the burly wolves who was clearly more brawn than brains, saying, "Get this him out of here."

The second that this brute reached out to try and grab his scruff Plague grabbed the hilt of the dagger that was sheathed at his shoulder, pulling it free just as he felt teeth bite into the back of his neck. Flipping the blade around to face his opponent with a quick flick of his head, he drove the dagger hard into the neck of the wolf that touched him, making him immediately let go of his neck as he gave a choked gasp, the brute's eyes going wide from shock and pain. Turning and giving a hard yank of his head at the same time, he pulled the blade through the front of the brute's throat, spraying the shoulder that was capped with a skull on his armor with crimson blood. The wolf fell beside him, choking and twitching as he suffocated and drowned on his own blood.

Hell broke loose, some of the other males around him lunging forward to attack him in retaliation for murdering their companion. Each time he swung and stabbed, shoving them away until another took their place. By the time the head of their band finally called them off, he had several deep bites across his scruff as well as one on his side near his left hip and glancing scrape along the edge of his left jaw as well. None of them were that serious or fatal - which was a far cry from what could be said for the wolves he fought off. Another brute joined his friend dead on the ground at his feet and a few more than now stood off to the side were bleeding from stab wounds and claw marks to their shoulders, legs, faces... Anywhere he could reach while he was fighting. He fixed his emerald gaze on the head of these idiots once more, panting around the hilt of his dagger with his lips still pulled up in a snarl.

"Natalia!" he yelled and Plague glanced past him at a smaller woman that peeked out from the cave that was over the slaver's shoulder. "Bring me the cloak from my stores." Plague scoffed and wiped the off his dagger across his foreleg before sheathing it again while he waited, the woman appearing beside her master or mate - which one he couldn't really decide - carrying a cloak that matched the description Rava gave him. The slaver grabbed it from her and tossed it over to Plague, the Abraxas man catching it while the other brute muttered something about never dealing with pack wolves again and turning away to go into the cave. Satisfied, Plague turned away as well, walking off to bring his prize back to Rava.

While he wasn't significantly hurt, he was sure he looked far worse than he actually was. He was covered in blood, but a large portion of it wasn't his own. He'd need to get the bites looked at purely to make sure they didn't get infected, but besides a bit of blood loss making his head slightly woozy he wasn't too worse for wear. He walked over to the cluster of trees that he had asked Rava to wait in with her cloak held carefully between his teeth, emerald gaze searching for the black and red marked woman.

Plague | Viridis | Procella