A Pound Of Flesh

Babysitting was not one of Rivin’s duties, but when the red streaked femme was out gathering herbs and caught sight of a certain raider pup heading away from the pack and curiosities got the better of her. Rivin was sure that the adults in the pack knew when and where to get in trouble, but the not-quite yearlings were still finding their footing in the world. The last thing she needed was for this kid to get into some shit and have no one able to help him. But… would Gil’s son listen to her warnings? Ugh… she had a not so great feeling about this.

…a feeling that only got worse as they arrived at the borders of the Hallows and the kid crossed the borders. Rivin hesitated, muttering a string of curses before she too trespassed. This was dangerous… What the hell was the kid thinking? This wasn’t some raid with his comrades! With curses muttered each step, she would come to what was the remains of a fight… kids… the leader of the Hallows, and oh for fuck’s sake… Another maimed kid.

Rivin straightened as she approached the Hallow’s wolves, keeping her body language calm, well, as calm as she could be. By the sounds of their talk as she approached… Tarnish had started it. “My apologies for the trespass…” The antlered girl flicked her gaze to the boy, a hardened look in her eyes. “I’m just here for him. Tarnish… you can’t just waltz into any old pack when you want, kid.” She hesitated… It seemed that the alpha was at least trying to help him with the wound, if Tarnish would let him.

“You should accept their help to clean the wound. I’ll treat it properly once we’re out of their lands.” Rivin’s ears fell back. Rivin didn’t consider herself a coward, but this was just a poor idea… Had the kid been so hyped up by the raid he wanted to seek the thrill of it on his own? And what the fuck was she supposed to tell Gil regarding his maim? This wasn’t the way she was hoping to distract herself from the damned mess of a meeting...

"Speech," 'Thought.'