Azalea made it to the border of Valhalla, acting sneaky and generally suspicious. She was in a wonderful mood considering she had managed to get Sarak to come with her. There may have been a little force involved but regardless he was here and if anyone asked, she was completely innocent. The freshly titled Heir got the impression that Sarak didn't get out of Valhalla much. So she was changing that, in the sliest way possible. Lurking about and playing it out like they had to be extra sneaky or else they might get in big trouble. Of course, just because she played one way didn't mean he was following. She only looking back now and then long enough to make sure he was following. "Stop! Shh." Her eyes darted about, body lowering to the ground. The coast was clear. She looked over her shoulder, not actually catching sight of Sarak but knowing he was there, "Run!" She darted across the well worn path that ran perpendicular to her own trail. Freedom. They had made it. The pair trekked into the unknown, nothing slowing Azalea down as she kept her lead with a tail held high. Keeping them at a brisk pace of swift trotting and an easy lope, they found their way into a valley. She believed it was known as Emerald Valley, though right now it was more like Snow Valley. Thankfully the thick trees created a canopy making the snow below them just a light dusting. Her breath perspired in the air before her. By the time she stopped her breath came in brisk puffs. "Phew. What a haul! Geez, Sarak, why didn't you tell me to stop?" She teased, plopping to her belly in a Superman position. Her tail wagged lazily and her eyes watched Sarak, chin rested on her left leg. Speech,

9

Sarak

Sarak trotted along with her, long legs eating up the ground as he followed dutifully along behind the dark headed female that was, so far, his only sure friend in Valhalla. He?d found himself a small den under the roots of an old oak in one of the forested areas in Valhalla, and had been asleep, when he?d found himself being nipped and prodded by an excited Azalea. He?d dug in his hocks at first, figuratively, but had been dragged along anyway, like a pups favorite bone toy, and so, he?d relented, and now he was here, at the edge of Valhalla, and she acted as though there was an extremely important mission that they needed to be completely hush about. It did worry him slightly. Did she know what he had been? Was he supposed to kill someone? He dropped into a crouch as she hissed for a silent halt and lowered herself. As she darted across the border, he kept pace with her, wondering what on earth she was up to. It didn?t have the feeling of a serious mission. She was cheerful. Over playing the sneaky bit. So he relaxed a little, keeping with the brisk trot she held, though when they began the climb, he slowed his pace to keep her in front, one ear folding back as she panted. She stopped at long last and flopped down on her belly, in an interesting position that definitely told him that she wasn?t taking him on a serious mission. As she teased him, he tilted his head, expressionless face breaking into a quizzical look, one brow perking as his ears cocked. It was a mixture of cute and handsome, as he slowly lowered himself onto his haunches, breathing easy and relaxed, in comparison with her brisk panting. ?You didn?t seem to want to stop.? His tail curled around his haunches. Moss green eyes studied her carefully, then lifted to stare about, as he checked for danger. This would be a fine moment for an enemy to ambush, and he hadn?t heard anything about whether they were still at odds with the pack, Tortuga, that the now he?d heard they were supposed to be enemies with. It would be a horrible thing to be attacked now, when neither of them were good fighters. He?d been trained, but it had never been his strength, and he didn?t think she?d had any training, herself. Things were quiet, however, and his eyes returned to the yearling who had brought him out here. ?So? What was the mission you spoke of, again?? His head tilted again, eyes studying her again with curiosity. Play and adventure had been something he had never heard of as a pup. He?d had no childhood.

Sarak hadn't made a peep of protest since leaving Valhalla. His quiet nature shining through. It was past dark and honestly, though she didn't show it, Azalea was a bit on the sleepy side. Unlike him she hadn't been curled up asleep. She was panting, again unlike Sarak. Surely it had been a workout for him too? He only had an inch on her height. It seemed that Sarak was doomed to stay an even thirty-two inches where she seemed to have matured to thirty-one. It hung her mind, the question of whether he was so "short" naturally or by some cause of environment. The wolves of Alacritis came in all sizes, this was true, but the general rule what that males were on the larger side. Even her own siblings. Azalea would have ended up larger, no doubt, if she had not been the runt. Her joking question to him evoked a reaction, his head tilted and one figurative brow seeming to shoot up. She grinned, unable to help the thoughts that ran through her head. "Wow! Sarak is really cute." Once the thoughts had run she shook her head, eyes a bit wider than they should be, afraid that without realizing it the thoughts would slip out into words. ?You didn't seem to want to stop.? He answered her. She huffed. They watched each other for a long moment, Azalea sighing as she finally got her core temperature back to where it needed to be. Her heart rate had slowed considerably. She still watched Sarak, even when he no longer watched her. His eyes roaming the area, making sure they were safe. A half smile appeared on her face ?So? What was the mission you spoke of, again?? She looked thoughtful. "Well... I was going to do some hunting or something but now I'm just tired." The last part came out whine-y. A complaint. She rolled over onto her side. Her eyelids were getting heavier and heavier, the excited energy leaving her body. This was a good example of why one should not leave Valhalla at night. It was doubtful that Sarak would get her back before morning, she was a creature of schedule and right now her inner clock was telling her it was time for a good long night of sleep. Speech,

9

Sarak

Sarak watched, bemused, as Azalea?s eyes grew wide for a moment while he spoke. After a while, she stopped panting , and her heartbeat was normal, from what he could hear of it. She watched him, while he glanced about again, alert for danger. He could run if they were attacked, but she was tired, and she seemed to be getting even more tired. His head turned back to her as she answered his question, moss green eyes confused. ?A hunting mission? At this hour?? His head tilted in that unintentionally rakish angle as he stared at her, watching her eyes sag. One dark ear flattened as she stretched out, right there. ?Perhaps we should? Head back.? He offered, dubiously eyeing the area. There were no places that would make a good den here. He rose to his paws and looked around, waiting for her to get up as well. She was worrying him a little, as he didn?t know that she was a clockwork type. Perhaps the climb had hurt her in some way? Luna?s Tail, what if she were dying?! Alarmed green eyes shot to her form.

?A hunting mission? At this hour?? He asked her. She shrugged. "There are plenty of nocturnal animals that I should like to eat." She said quietly and lazily. ?Perhaps we should? Head back.? For a moment she was too far gone to realize the alarm in Sarak's tone. "Raccoon, possum, beaver, deer, and ugh now I'm hungry again." She sat up, blinding her eyes repeatedly to try and remove the sleep from them. On one paw she wanted nothing more than to rest but on the other she wanted to find herself a night time snack. Anything would suffice. Sarak had gotten up from his seated position, Azalea's eyes trailing from his paws up to his face. "Stop looking at me." She complained, a bit annoyed by the wide eyes look his was giving her. What was wrong with a little sleep? Did he think shadow ninjas were going to swoop in and attack them? She snorted. If that happened she would fight them all off single pawed. This seemed to give her more energy and she jumped to her feet now, albeit a bit wobbly when she did. She walked over to Sarak, lifting a paw high to bat at his face. "Calm down," she said, turning away without another word to stalk into the undergrowth. Her stomach rumbled as she listened intently for the sound of prey. In winter the nights were still and masking her steps was not hard with the snow to muffle each step. Prey was also a challenge to hear. The sound of falling snow reverberated through the forest. It was after one that she stopped, head lowering and eyes closing. She focused all her attention on listening to what she was sure she had heard in shadow of the falling snow. Something munched away not too far from where she was. She moved toward it, catching a glimpse as she got closer. A hare. Her mouth watered. Making her move she launched after the hare, who for a moment didn't hear her coming. As a low hanging branch scrapped across her back, snow flying everywhere, the hare hardly even turned to look at her. The distance between them grew smaller and smaller until she tackled the rabbit to the ground, teeth wrapping around its head to snap its neck. A successful hunt. It she hadn't been so hungry, and had there not been snow on the ground, then she doubted she would have caught it. She let the hare fall into the snow, which was thicker here, and looked around. Where had Sarak gone? Everything looked the same here, where ever she was. The branches all sat low on the trees here, killing the visibility. "Sarak!" She called out, worry coloring her suddenly delicate voice. Speech,

9

Sarak

Sarak?s alarm faded as Azalea hoisted herself to her paws. He supposed she was right. There were nocturnal prey animals that provided good hunting, and indeed, she listed a few, before complaining of hunger. He looked around, trying to scent a possible prey animal nearby, glancing at her to be sure she wouldn?t vanish. Her admonition made him avert his gaze respectfully to the snow, ears twitching at the snort. Really, she was an interesting character of a wolf. Energetic one moment, exhausted the next, then energetic agai-- He snuffed as her paw came down on his muzzle, giving him a start. Moss green eyes regarded her with some measure of confusion. Calm down? He was calm. He bent to rub the tickling sensation her claws had left away on one forelimb, and when he straightened and looked up, she was gone. Moss greens widened as he looked about wildly for a moment, then mellowed slightly as he caught sight of her trail. Quietly, he slipped alongside her tracks, gauged her direction, and padded off, intending to head her off. He caught the faint sounds of her charge, the lighter noises of a hare. The heavy crunch of snow being forcefully trampled under falling weight. The snap of bone. Silence. He slipped toward the last point of noise, then paused, one paw raised, as her voice called his name, suddenly sounding afraid. That triggered a reaction. He charged, light on his paws in the snow, his training in stealth taking hold. His approach was silent. He burst in on her location, skidding to a halt and looking around, wondering what had made her scared. It was only her and a dead rabbit here. No scents of Blackmoon, no scents of strangers. ?Are you alright??

He came to her frightened call, appearing under the snow heavy branches. She didn't recognize the direction which she had come from, her attack on the rabbit leaving the snow a mess no matter which direction she looked. Though he had clearly sprinted to her rescue, Sarak was silent and deadly in his approach. It sparked in her mind that real purpose of coming here. She had wanted to talk to Sarak, to let him show her what he was good at. He was a good at moving silently, that was obvious even in the snow. ?Are you alright?? He asked. Azalea nodded, ears pulling back. "Yes. I'm sorry, Sarak. I got turned around and didn't see my path..." She sat down, staring at her kill with a downtrodden look. She really did feel silly, crying out like a lost child when really she wasn't lost at all. In the moment she had been too fearful of not finding her way back to him that she had froze up, all the right methods of action fleeing from her mind. "I shouldn't have pulled you out here. I just wanted to spend time with you and... we can go back now." What a disaster. She was an emotional roller coaster tonight. Excited then exhausted then hunger and now downtrodden. She'd ran the gauntlet of feelings. Embarrassed, she couldn't bring herself to even look at Sarak. How silly must he think she is? Azalea felt childish and completely stupid, the fact that she was only a yearling showing more than possibly ever. "Can we just go home now?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Sarak, take me home?" She bid a little louder this time. Speech,

9

Sarak

As she replied, his muscles relaxed. ?It happens.? He said, tone reasonable. It?d happened to him a lot of times. Her eyes gazed down at her kill, and she looked about ready to cry. That made his ears fold back. Tears had been something you didn?t see in Blackmoon pack, and that was because every wolf there, save maybe for Yssamega, were heartless brutes and bitches, with room in their emotions only for bloodlust, rage, and a sick pleasure at seeing pain. He?d been like that, once before he?d reached Valhalla and his mark. I he hadn?t been told to leave no trace of himself, prey animals would have fallen to his whims, and left behind. The memory of how he had been made him feel a bit sick. Moss green eyes gazed at Azalea as she apologized for pulling him out this far at night. She wanted to spend time with him? It still surprised him that anyone in the pack would want to spend time with him. Particularly a pretty female. He stepped forward, paws still silent, as she asked to go home. ?Eat your kill first. It?ll help you feel better.? It wasn?t a command, the way he spoke it, but a gentle suggestion. Settling on his haunches, he watched her a moment, then glanced up at the sky.

?It happens.? He said, trying to put down her apology. Eyes glanced to Sarak for a moment to watch him relax. In her current state, she saw his action more as a heavy sigh. Irritation. She glared at the dead rabbit, eyes locked on the blood, watching the red liquid congeal as it cooled and froze. At her request Sarak took a step toward her. She thought for a moment that he was going to take the hare from her, carry it home so that it wouldn't go to waste. Instead he stopped, gentle words reaching her ears. ?Eat your kill first. It?ll help you feel better.? His words calmed her a bit, swaying her dejection. She finally looked toward him, just as he sat down. He received a half smile, one that didn't quite reach her amber eyes. With a little nod she bent over her prey, breaking into it. She broke a good chunk off, getting up and going over to Sarak. She laid it at his feet, sort of a peace offering. Now she really smiled as she looked at him, "I hope you're hungry... cause I kinda killed my appetite. Heh," She looked embarrassed, but not a lowly sort of depressed this time. Her eyes flickered to Sarak's moss green eyes and away again and again. Slinking back over to her portion of the hare, she laid down setting it strategically in her paws as she began to chew. Her teeth worked through the muscle and sinew with ease. The bones snapped, marrow seeping out onto her tongue. It was enough to bring her hunger back. What she had here was enough for her and she finished it quickly. Blood stained her chin and paws. She licked her lips repeatedly, not one to stay messy. Speech,

9

Sarak

He watched as she glared down at her kill, glad when his words seemed to have a slight effect. The half smile may not have reached her eyes, but it was still a smile. No one in Blackmoon pack smiled unless it was while they were killing or shredding something. He studied her as she broke off a leg and set it in front of him. He gave a faint smile, the first of that expression to be seen on his face, and barely noticeable, as she spoke, glad to hear her embarrassment lightening to something less depressed. As she glanced at him, he crouched and crunched down the leg, one eye watching her as she went back to her hare and began eating. After the first few bites, her vigor returned and she spent a full moment afterwards, it seemed, licking her lips to get at the blood. ?Rub your face through the clean snow. It should clean the blood from your fur.? Nothing dangerous in giving that bit of information. A wolf got bloody from kills that were prey, not just assassinations. His gaze went to his paws, before he wandered to a clean patch of snow, burrowing his face into it and scrubbing his muzzle with the snow. Rising to his paws again, he glanced over his shoulder at her, tail giving a small tock-tock of a sway as he waited for her to clean up. Once she did, he found the path she had taken in her impromptu hunt, making sure she could follow him easily.

Sarak took his share graciously, much as she had expected. He had yet to be out right rude to her or harsh in any way. Always reserved at most. They both ate in silence and when he watched her lick her chops laboriously to remove every hint of red, he made a suggestion: ?Rub your face through the clean snow. It should clean the blood from your fur.? She froze, glancing at him for a long moment as his word registered in her mind. It was a good idea and she took to it. Somehow she didn't quite grasp that she could do it lying down though and instead sent her rump in the air and propelled herself alone with her face as a plow. It did the trick, regardless of how goofy she appeared. When she was finished she shook herself free of the snow. This time Sarak took the lead, already cleaned up and ready to go. He looked at her expectantly and she bounded over to pad by him but behind him, respectful of the lead he took. Her shoulder brushed his hip, fur mingling lightly as they moved back through the trees. "You're so nice to me Sarak," She stated lightly, with a real smile this time, energy provided by the hare. Speech,

9

Sarak

He padded along her trodden path, eyes taking in all around him in the shadows. He felt her fall in behind and beside him, sensed her regained energy. Her fur mingled with that of his hip. Her words made one ear pull back to listen. ?You are one of the first wolves to have ever been kind to me. I?m happy to return the kindness.? His head tilted, eyes sliding back to glance at then dark headed yearling. Inwardly, he wondered what her future would hold. She didn?t seem to have the interest Erani had in herbs, so, likely not a healer. Perhaps a hunter. She was good at night hunting, from what he?d seen and heard tonight. He wondered what his future would hold in Valhalla. He wasn?t a goof fighter, despite the vicious training he?d undergone in his birth pack. The scar on his left foreleg was just one of many that were hidden beneath his fur. The scar from Erani was testimony to his lack of skills. What he loved was running, leaving the world behind and feeling the wind trail it?s talons through his fur. But running wasn?t all that useful to the pack. Except, perhaps, in a hunt. He had the stamina to stay with a fleeing herd and run a large animal into the ground, but none of the strength needed to bring an animal down without help. His hunting abilities were limited to rabbits and other small prey animals. They crested the rise and he turned to look out over the Valley. Moss green gaze picked out land marks from their path, marking those as explored areas, before turning to be sure Azalea had made it up with him.

From her position she couldn't see the way his eyes watched their surrounding, cautious as ever. He looked for danger where Azalea plodded blindly ahead. Her eyes were on Sarak, his shoulders, his neck, his ear. Waiting to gauge the reaction to her words as she spoke. She didn't consider that danger could be near, she rarely ever did. Perhaps it was that she was, in an off hand way, reassured about her safety on the simple fact of her surname. Adravendi. It was all she needed to let most wolves know that she had a vast number of others to back her if things went south. She didn't think so though. Her last name, to her, wasn't even worth bringing up most of the time. She didn't need it to stand apart from the crowd. It was just her nature. Why should she go about, heart consumed by a constant disease that at any moment she could be attacked and potentially killed? ?You are one of the first wolves to have ever been kind to me. I?m happy to return the kindness.? An ear had tipped in her direction, his head following after. She stared into his moss green eyes for a moment before smiling with a light nod. They made a quick procession up the valley wall and over the top. Valhalla was there in the distance waiting for them as inviting as ever. "I like to get away, to be free, but there's no better feeling than seeing Valhalla waiting for me." Her tone was warm as she paused for a moment to stare out over the lands. The downward trek was to begin now. Again Sarak took the lead and Azalea allowed herself to fall behind. She was both a leader and a follower but perhaps not a good leader. With the way she blindly rushed into things. Sarak was much better than her, he took into consideration what could go wrong and was prepared to do all he needed to protect Azalea if needed. Likely he had an exit strategy. Azalea had nothing. Blind faith that nothing wrong could happen. If a fight were to occur, Azalea would give 'em hell. She would, like Sarak in regards to her, do all she could to protect her companion. She was staring at Sarak again, considering things. Again she remembered that she had set out on this trip to try to find out what he was good at and what he was interested in. Honestly, she was just as clueless as when they left Valhalla. "So, what do you like, Sarak? You can name anything. For example: I like sunsets." Now she looked at him expectantly. She gave him so much, an open book, but in reality she really knew nothing about him. Speech,

9

Sarak

Azalea had made it up with him. Her words he agreed with. He hadn?t left the borders much since his botched attack and reforming. But there was something comforting about seeing the lands the Valhalla claimed as home looming in the distance. He paused to look at it, before padding down the narrow deer trail that led down into the forest dotted plains, with its rolling hills and a minor cliff now and then where the hills grew larger. Azalea spoke up, her question bringing him to a stop. The question was something he?d never thought about. He supposed he used to like killing. But now that he thought of it now, he knew he hadn?t liked it in his heart. He?d never thought about the mundane things. Like favorite foods or things like that. He sat, sinking to his haunches, ears swiveling as he pondered. ?Running, I suppose. I?ve never given what I like much thought. I like Valhalla. The sense of security it has, even with all the changes in leadership.? Shoulders rolled in the semblance of a shrug.

?Running, I suppose. I?ve never given what I like much thought. I like Valhalla. The sense of security it has, even with all the changes in leadership.? He had stopped walking and she did too, behind him all the way now. She hovered off to his right side, looking ahead to him as he looked back on her as expected. When he shrugged, Azalea shook her head, "No, don't shrug. What else do you like? I like sparring." She jumped toward him in a mock charge before running ahead of him. Without words she took the lead from him. It was really getting late and they needed to get back. She glanced back at him expectantly though, not worried he wasn't following. Azalea was waiting for another answer. What was another thing he liked? Running was a good answer. She liked to run as well but not as much as she liked talking. Maybe she should say that she likes talking? How cliche would that sound, though? "There are a lot of things I like... I cannot possibly think of them all! Purple flowers, there is something I just love about purple flowers. And stars, oh the stars! I like tall grass like this, like in Valhalla. Of course I like Valhalla too, but I don't think of it as a 'like', it is more something I can't see myself living without, a 'need.' Fish, you know, not to eat but to watch. Exploring. I love new places. And well, of course, you." She looked back over her shoulder at him. There was no smile this time, just a straight face. Of course she meant as friends. At a year old, she was really yet too young to think of such things as actually being attracted to someone. Not to say that Sarak wasn't attractive though, he certainly was. Speech,

9

Sarak

Azalea admonished him for shrugging, before adding that she liked sparring, emphasizing with a jump that took her past him, whereupon she took the lead. Moss green eyes watched her before he decided that they were close enough to the Borders to be safe. A call for help would travel fast from here. He glanced around at the surroundings, ears back to listen for anything coming behind. This paranoia would likely be a part of his psyche for the rest of his life. Azalea, however, showed none of the paranoia he had. She padded on, chattering. A faint smile tugged at his muzzle as he listened, taking note. He?d seen purple flowers before. He seemed to recall that some were poisons that made an Assassin?s job easier. He?d pushed that knowledge away after he?d learned the better parts of life. Valhalla. Did he like it? Yes. ?I don?t think I would be alive if I weren't in Valhalla.? The mutter was more a thought voiced aloud than directed at her. He knew he wouldn?t be. He would have gone back to Blackmoon, and been killed for his failure at the mission that would have given him a warrior name. She liked him? Moss green eyes blinked at her as she glanced over her shoulder at him. ?I like you, too.? His expression matched hers, but he felt a warm sensation somewhere in his middle, a sensation he was still getting used to. It happened now and then, usually when he was watching the family lives of the pack, happy mates and gamboling pups. Pleasure. Happiness. His tail gave a sway. Before he had come to Valhalla, his tail had never wagged. Tucked in submission, fear, or hung limp, or held out for balance, but never wagged. Another first, in a whole line of firsts since Valhalla had shown him mercy. He ducked his head. He knew part of cleansing himself and seeing a future would be telling his story, perhaps to one wolf, or maybe to the whole pack. But he would have to tell it? Someday. It would help the pack, if they knew more about the Blackmoon Pack, should the pack ever attack Valhalla. He knew the secrets, the customs, the rules. They were all drilled into pups who managed to survive the fight that would decide who stayed alive to serve, and who was killed. But not yet. He still feared what they would say. What Azalea would say. Erani and Cairo he trusted. They were the ones to show him mercy, even knowing where he was from. Even knowing what his pack had done to Erani?s family. He trusted Azalea, too, but still, he feared. He had never had a friend. His siblings could hardly be called friends, except maybe Yssamega. They were very close to the borders now. He could smell the sweet scent of home. He padded up to walk alongside Azalea. ?I like? Night time.? Getting his likes out of him would be like pulling teeth that were healthy and didn?t need pulling. If she pressed, and made him think more, she?d get more. And someday, she would get his story.

?I don?t think I would be alive if I weren't in Valhalla.? His words barely reached her and as they did she was thankful she was already listening to him to be able to catch it. His words make her take on a look on uncertainty, her mind wondering as usual where the boy had come from. He blinked at her as she glanced back to see the reaction from his words. He seemed taken off guard but not at all in a bad way. He seemed happy to know that she did. His tail even wagged a bit, slow and steady. Her tail whipped wildly in response. ?I like you, too.? She grinned, moving on. She could hear the shuffle of grass against his legs and underside as the male hustled to walk by her side. Shoulder to shoulder. ?I like? Night time.? She looked at him, nodding. Her eyes then cast upward, to the dark sky above them. The moon smiled down on them, providing them ample light. Stars twinkled here and there but for the most part they were hiding tonight. Azalea sighed heavily, her body letting go of tension she didn't realize she was holding onto. It was a happy sigh, a content one. She saw the familiar tree lines and land marks. Valhalla was just a short ways away now, each step bringing her closer. When they finally came upon the border, Azalea stepped over without hesitation. An invisible line distinguished by scent and a well beaten path. She stopped after a few steps, looking at Sarak. "Have a good night, Sarak." She smiled, giving a polite little head bob. Speech,