He had lost. It had cost him his freedom, despite fighting his hardest. It had been hard, and now Naoise found himself in the same situation that Mystic had once been in. Something that he had regretted, not being there to protect her. But now... It was his turn. His father would not be there to save him... And the only one he had to blame was himself. Naoise wasn’t strong enough. Wasn’t strong enough to keep himself safe. Now... This lead to a whole knew sort of problem. This pack was not Hellstrom. He could not come and go as he pleased. He would breathe out, brooding. What to do? If he tried to prove his loyalty he could possibly earn his freedom that way. But... Naoise would narrow his eyes. Why should he? He’d done nothing wrong to deserve this capture. He’d huff, sitting outside the den he had woken up in. Boy... This was a conundrum. "Talk" "You" Think

Table by:: Shelby

Fall had arrived. The crispness in the air was something wholly unique to the season, sailing on cool breezes with falling leaves. It was pretty. Nagendra didn’t like the cold too much, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate it. Natural happenings – even those he was familiar with – were always a wonder to him. The way the grass crinkled and browned and the way naked trunks of the deciduous trees stood against pale skies were all taken in with renewed awe. Everything worked together magnificently – a waltz of so many different things that came together to form one whole, harmonious picture of the coming cold and of the ritual of temporary death that the world succumbed to.

This was only half of what Nagendra pondered about as his inquisitive soul wandered across the farmland. It was good to be back. But it was still a bit strange – his spat with Valentine having left a bad taste in his mouth despite the seeming reconciliation. For a remedy, he had decided to visit numerous locations in Imperium and repair his thoughts and spirit with mediation. A good soaking in nature would do him well – it always did.

He walked for a few minutes, grateful for his aloneness. There was something soothing too about walking by oneself. He smiled faintly before transferring his attention to his present environment and noticing someone. A pale young man, someone he’d never seen before, sat outside a den up ahead. Nagendra slowed his pace as he approached, observing with curious jade eyes. He was handsome – alabaster and gray and black, with dark green eyes. He also looked a little frustrated. Nagendra paused a few yards away, cocking his head a little. ”Hello there,” he offered, entirely unaware of the other’s situation.

Cas was in an aggressively happy mood, the fierce adrenaline of the siege having worn off to bring out the aches and pains of her battle but still coloring her emotions with a strange sort of pugnacious cheerfulness. She'd dragged her new pet back from the siege and deposited him in a den with just enough intervention to keep him from bleeding to death before going to go pick her child up at Abaven. Now she was dragging along her herbals and suchlike on the trail toward the new slave's location, ready to patch him up and get him back on his feet so they could get some use out of him.

Well hello, what was this?

The little slave was already up and about, and had a visitor even. Cas eyed the second male with a sidelong glance, curious as to who and why, but with her mouth full she could not even greet him let alone question him. Continuing until she came to the den, where she deposited her burden with a flourish. "Entertaining guests already? My, you're going to be a popular little worker bee," she simpered mockingly. She pawed at her bundle, spreading the contents so she could see them all. "All right, lay down so I can clean up those wounds. Don't want you to go and die after all the effort I put into you."

She cocked her head to the side so she could glance over at the second male, the stranger. He smelled of Valentine and packlands, so it would seem he had been recently accepted, but not oddly enough of blood so he hadn't had to fight to get in. Had she seen him before? She couldn't recall immediately though he seemed awfully familiar for a complete stranger. He almost looked like he could be related to Rhythm, bearing much of the same coloration in much the same places but those green eyes and the lack of marking beneath them gave him away. "And you are..?" she asked, tone friendly enough as she questioned him.

A greeting, so simple, from an Imperium member, would cause Naoise to wrinkle his nose in disgust. “Hello yourself.” The brute would reply sourly. His throat ached, his shoulder ached, his ribs ached... Damn them all. Naoise would shoot a glare at another voice that interrupted them. Her mocking voice made him sick. He would raise his hackles once again, baring his fangs as he took a step back. No. No way in hell he was going to trust her. “Treat me? Fuck off lady. I don’t need your god damned herbs.” The brute didn’t want any parts of this pack. Any parts of those who took him against his will. Nevermind his hurts. He would wince as he tried to take another step back, his left side particularly shooting with pain. He knew he needed healing... He wasn’t stupid. Not completely anyway. He knew his situation was hopeless. This woman had bested him in battle once before... She could do it again. Naoise would grunt softly, lowering his gaze. Fuck this situation. “Nngh...” He was still weak. He would lower to the earth, ears pinned against his head as he shot another glare at the woman. “Stay away from me, you got that?” "Talk" "You" Think

Table by:: Shelby

The man’s brows lifted with surprise as he was met with a wrinkled nose and a biting response. It was a sucker-punch to his cheerful and free disposition – unsolicited and overall upsetting. What had he done to receive such hostile manners? His mouth fell slightly open as his plans for warm socializing were set in reverse. He blinked, still flabbergasted, and then followed the stranger’s gaze to the side where another approached, previously unnoticed. She was tall and purplish, slim and fairly pretty. Her eyes were a mismatched purple and yellow, with a spot of white surrounding the purple eye. She approached and devoted immediate attention to the boy, her voice sly and sardonic.

Nagendra took a small step back, confusion still bubbling in his brain. Now he was beginning to feel he didn’t really belong in this immediate vicinity; this woman seemed to know what she was doing, had some authority here and over that young man. He glanced towards the female with his head ever-so-slightly tilted and one brow raised higher than the other - an elegant picture of puzzlement.

The boy bristled more when the woman spoke to him. Crude language cut through the softness of the air, soiling the gentle singing of birds and the quiet breaths of the breeze. Nagendra remained silent and baffled. He looked back to the purplish wolf as she spoke to him. ”Nagendra Bahri. Venatrix Consocia,” he introduced (he supposed he ought to start identifying himself by rank, for a sense of professionalism to any possible higher-ups), his face still crinkled by uncertainty. ”And you?” he felt a little… improper, asking in such a way (for he was continuously feeling a radiation of authority from this woman), but how else would he? He was rather curious now.