Bloody Ransom

A call rose, and with it the demand for his presence… Beauregard rose, an uneasy feeling in his gut. Gaze shot over to his mate, who had been struggling with depression, and to Bellatrix, fixing them both with a look of seriousness. “Tanalen, you are to take the children, the elders, anyone but Bellatrix with you and leave immediately. I have… a bad feeling of what is to come. This... this is something that bodes worse the raiders. Do not hesitate, do not come to fight… Just please do this, get the others out… I… I will come for you as soon as I can. Ethne, The Hallows, Avalon… all are good places to take them.” He had already been on edge with Nolan’s disappearance, spending much of his time combing the surrounding area for his son. The rain had washed away his scent, and unable to find any other clues to Nolan’s wearabouts, he had been at wits end… he had only been in their hut to rest, to try and gain some energy when the call went up. His gaze then shifted to Bellatrix.

“You are to follow me and not engage with anyone, understand? If your brother is with them, your job is to get him to everyone else once he heads into the lands. Do not let them see you. No arguments - you are not ready to face full grown adults yet. You have been getting better, but I will not see you hurt.” He hates speaking to them like this, with a seriousness in his voice, but this call is different from the last. He does not believe that this will be a bloodless meeting… but better his blood than that of his packmates. Of all of Norad’s wolves to show up to the raid, he had been the only one to win any of his fights. His wolves were not ready for another confrontation, and he would not allow them to be hurt because of his weakness… because he hadn’t built them up.

…and then Beauregard would leave. He just prayed that his wolves would heed him. He could protect himself, but he wouldn’t be able to protect all of them. There was no way of knowing what sort of force he was coming to face.

He arrived to find them in great numbers, almost a dozen wolves standing with his son’s scent near them. Beauregard would not falter, keeping his expression calm even as butterflies wildly beat at his stomach. They have his son... They have Nolan. The realization makes his fur prickle with anger, but Beauregard knows there is no way to fend all of them off. By their expressions, he doubted these wolves were the honorable sort. Beasts and heathens, the lot of them, to use a child as leverage against a pack. Beauregard is angry, but the man will not fight a losing battle against them… and with as many as there were, fighting them would only provoke violence. Nolan could die if he wasn’t careful.

“I am the Artifex of Norad, the man you called for.” His eyes narrow. “Speak your business and terms for releasing my son.” They wanted something, to come with Nolan in tow as they had. But what would they demand of Norad?

"Speech," 'Thought.'