Deathbelle scouted the border of the Redwater Rocks one last time before leaving for the southern lands. Ashen was moving, the whole Empire relocating somewhere maybe not safer from the volcano, but where they could sprawl. Continuous growth but huge misfortunes brought the Kleins through a rollercoaster of a last year. She quickly fell in love with the man she chose to sire her future heirs, the volcano erupted and her children lost their father. They were forced to relocate from the Ravine and the Lake as well. The pack was forced to linger in the lands that were not home.

No one realized then they would never be returning to the beginnings of the Empire. After Belle fell for and married Archon she had taken on his goal of acquiring the shrine for which he sought so heartily. The volcano did a lot of damage to her and her family, but it also showed them paths originally unseen.

The Empress smiled softly, her dark lips turning up into a sad smile as she reminisced the last year of her life. She never would have guessed she would come so far in so short a time. Her delicate features shifted upwards to take in the bright light of the moon as it cascaded over the warm colored rocks. Her path was stained with the white light as she cleared her thoughts and prepared for the new start Ashen was going to experience.

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At first, Thistle thought everything was fine. She hadn't felt any tremors in a few weeks, the ash seemed to be clearing from the sky, prey animals weren't plentiful by any means but they were, you know... around. She could safely say at this point that it was entirely wishful thinking. Having left the north with high spirits, she had travelled for several days in relative comfort, eager to stretch her legs. Then came two days back to back of strong winds which Thistle was half convinced appeared for the sole purpose of kicking up monstrous clouds of ash and dust, and despite her best efforts to find shelter the young female figured she had inhaled at least half of it. Her eyes stung, her paws were raw and to top it off she had stumbled thanks to the low visibility and twisted her hind leg pretty severely. All in all, it was shit. So now she was miserable, aching, hungry and lost somewhere in the western lands. It was one hell of a miscalculation, and she had no one to blame but herself and her own poor judgement, which was not a comfy idea for her. Thistle thrived on being able to blame someone else. Didn't really know how to process shitty situations without that to fall back on. By this point night had well and truly fallen, and due to her slow pace Thistle was still seeking out somewhere to rest for the evening. Bleary and exhausted, she almost overlooked the fact that she had company. A large wolf, female if she had to guess, splotched with white over a darker coat walked a few dozen yards away. Thistle sighed and strongly considered sinking to the ground before she was seen in such a miserable state, but instead swallowed her pride. It was not an easy task. "'Scuze me, she rasped out, voice parched and hardly the strong projection she usually preferred. "Are you familiar with this place?" The wind was working against her so Thistle was lost when it came to identifying anything else about this female. She hoped it wasn't a pack wolf or something, because if she'd wandered across a border in her delirium, well, that was exactly what she needed right now wasn't it? She hoped the woman would at least kill her quickly. 634/1500

Deathbelle had a lot of hope to look forward to in her future, the Empire was strong and her children were growing fast. They had just accepted their apprentice ranks and their futures were shining bright. They would be a year old soon, and all of Boreas would tremble at their might. Thinking about them and the future brought her confidence that her work in this world would continue far beyond her life span. The Klein name would not be soon forgotten.

Her patrol wasn’t long, the rocks were smaller than their first territory, and much smaller than their eventual permanent home. This was her last walk here, a place steeped in memories. They would always hold a special place in her heart, up on the cliffs she said her vows to her husband, and when he was gone she had retreated to the caverns with her sparkler lover to find that she could recover from heartache. Deathbelle was a much different wolf from the one who retreated here at the volcano’s eruption.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a voice that was narly swept away by the wind. The darkness didn’t hide the pale woman very well, and her distress was obvious in the way her voice cracked. Deathbelle wasn’t a healer that often worked out of the kindness of her heart, but being as it was a hallowed night she would withhold any selfish desires. Delicate paws shifted her direction and the flower adorned Empress padded closer to the stranger.

”This place has been my home for the last half a year.” She answered softly as her ivory splashed form came to a halt in front of the dehydrated woman. Lilac eyes looked her over, she didn’t seem to be a desert dweller, was she lost? ”Do you seek aid?” She questioned more coarsely than the average healer.

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As soon as she spoke Thistle realized that this stranger had major 'Don't Fuck With Me' energy, and while she could respect that it was pretty much the last thing she'd been hoping for. Well, apart from a quick and merciful death. Her voice was soft, but the words carried a hardened edge that didn't exactly put Thistle at ease. A brief war erupted between her ears as the young female tried to rapidly deduce the best way to navigate this particular situation. She was obviously operating at a disadvantage here, not just because she was a strong gust of wind away from toppling over entirely, but mostly because her urge to snark back and tell the woman to forget about it if she had better things to do was strong, and would likely work against her. Perhaps the gods had put her in this position to see her pride checked. If so, it was almost working. Thistle sighed. "Oh, little old me? I'm just peachy. Never better, in fact." Okay mouth, sure. Say that instead, that's so much better. Thistle sank onto her haunches and winced, partially from the slip and partially from the pain in her leg. Although it pained her even further to offer a genuine apology she hoped that the much larger female would take it as the plea for mercy that it was. "Sorry, teetering on the edge of collapse makes me a bit grouchy. I was actually just going to ask if you knew anywhere nearby that would offer a decent shelter." She clamped her mouth shut around what nearly followed, that being "And I'd kiss you if there was water within walking distance of it." Probably a bit too forward, that. The dark woman didn't exactly have the outward appearance of a healer, but Thistle knew better than most not to judge someone based on a first impression. They were almost always wrong, and anyone with two brain cells to rub together could mock up something more palatable if needed. Or less palatable, for that matter. She had walls of her own, so she wouldn't begrudge this stranger the way she chose to comport herself. Whatever, either run her off or leave her be, either way Thistle just wanted her to get on with it already. 383 1331/1500

Nothing in the world was free, that was one law that Deathbelle lived by. There was always a price somewhere, and Belle’s favorite was servitude. She was reminded of Chrysanthos, she had saved his life and th emale had pledged to her his labor in return. Deathbelle asked about the woman’s need of aid, but at first the woman was hesitant at the least. She lied through her teeth in the beginning, she was obviously in distress no matter what she said.

Deathbelle lifted her pale brows in return and the woman was a bit more honest in her second string of words. The Empress debated internally about her next course of action, surely the two of them could make some kind of trade for her help. She sighed heavily and relinquished. ”You’ve found yourself at the edge of the Ashen Empire.” She wondered for another moment if she was worth helping, but she also knew that her pain was making her spikey. Maybe she would be receptive after her pain was managed.

”Come with me.” Deathbelle found it hard to loosen her commanding role, she was the leader of an Empire and sloughing off that responsibility was near impossible. ”I will get you water, rest, and look at your injury.” She hadn’t missed the flinch as she relaxed onto her haunches.

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Ashen Empire, huh? Well didn't that just sound... ominous and awful. Still, it wasn't like Thistle had much choice. Thistle wasn't sure whether she really did sit at the edge of the stranger's territory or had blundered blindly over the border and this woman was simply too prim to make her pay for it in her current state. Either way it seemed like she was good for now. Mercy and all that. When the woman beckoned her onward, Thistle was posed a choice that wasn't really a choice at all. Follow and maybe die, or stay put and die from either rudeness or exposure for sure. She rose, groaning, and followed. It wasn't a long walk but she was slow moving and the journey felt like torture. By the time the pair arrived at the sandstone cave, hollowed out by erosion ages age, Thistle felt fit to collapse. In fact she did sink against the cave's wall and sank to the cool floor, excited to no longer be moving even if she had expended every last drop of energy in her pitiful, measly body. The thought occurred to Thistle that maybe the woman was some sort of sadist and had lured her there just to leave her with a glimmer of hope before ending her, but whatever, right? Let it happen. She was stationary and out of the wind, so not really the worst way to go. "I mean this with all due respect," she began. "But you are a cruel task master." Was the woman going out of her way to help her? Yes. Did she have any real reason to go out on a limb and offer Thistle aid? Absolutely not. But that didn't mean Thistle couldn't internally complain about it. At this point whatever Thistle was offered she would accept, be it water or the pointy end of the woman's fangs. What was life really worth in the midst of dehydration, exhaustion, and general ailment? She had herself half convinced that all she needed was a good night's sleep, but on the flip side of that coin slipping blissfully into the void didn't seem that rough of an alternative. Wouldn't her mother be proud? Thistle slumped sideways and sighed. "Do your worst. At this point you could set a passel of hogs on me and I'd thank you." It hadn't occurred to her that she might owe this woman something for her service. They hadn't even exchanged names, and Thistle wasn't exactly the sort to consider the wants and needs of others. If the stranger had left her to wither with amidst the sands, fine. If she left her right now, fine. If she tended her boo-boos and brought her water and served her a meal, fine. She could tear out her throat, fine. All Thistle really wanted was to sleep. "Speech"

Eventually the pair of them would settle into a quiet alcove far out of the wind. The tiny woman seemed like she was about to collapse even halfway through their journey. Deathbelle worried more than once that she’d need to call back up or carry the wolf outright. They did finally make it somewhere acceptable the Empress half expected her to collapse, and she nearly did as her snark came through. ”You haven’t seen anything yet.” The Klein offered her before turning her attention to the leftover herbs. She led the way here because it had previously been a healer way station.

”The worst was walking here.” She muttered as she pulled out a ratty fur that had been left behind. Carefully she folded the fur to use as a kind of kickstand to raise up the offending injury. ”From the way you were walking, the good news is I think it's just been sprained.” Still, it wasn’t a nice injury. ”Here, it needs elevated.” She stated simply before gently placing the rolled fur under the injured side’s knee after making sure Thistle was position correctly.

”Here’s some water.” Maybe it was a little stale, but it was still a bit of liquid. Deathbelle offered the gourd as she took a few long strips of pliable leather to the woman’s leg. She wrapped carefully so there wasn’t too much pressure, but there would be support and hopefully relief. ”Take some of these.” She offered a concoction of herbs to reduce swelling. A tiny bit of giner, clove, tumeric, and white willow. ”After some rest you should be near good as new.”

It had been a tough trek, but Thistle would be damned to collapsed in front of a total stranger. Hell, she'd be damned to collapse in front of her own mother. Long story short, it was sheer stubbornness and willpower alone than allowed her to traverse the short distance to this ramshackle shelter. (In truth it was quite well put together, despite subtle signs of recent disuse, but Thistle was grumpy so... ramshackle.) The woman was all business, and under any other circumstance Thistle would have surely appreciated it. She was quick, concise, to the point, and delivered her opinions on the necessary care without fluttering about like a matron who had been too long without children of her own. Exactly what Thistle would want in a healer, apart from the fact that most of her opinions on the matter had be derived objectively and not when it was Thistle herself awaiting their care. She nudged her injured limb up onto a folded hide and offered her water from a gourd. It might have been days old since it was harvested from whatever stream she'd dredged it from but Thistle would swear it was the sweetest she'd ever tasted. "Thank you," she murmured after swallowing half the thing, and with more sincerity than she was comfortable with. The way the woman had placed her beleaguered hind limb was already reliving some of the strain, and it was hard for Thistle not to show her relief. The herbs came next, and while those were bitter and foul she knew better than to refuse them. What few lessons her mother had been able to drill into her head, this was paramount: never refuse a healers ministrations, particularly if you might have succumbed otherwise. The yet unnamed woman claimed that with a bit of rest she'd be back good as new, which Thistle chose to believe with all the optimism she could muster. There had not been any hogs involved so she supposed she should be grateful. "I don't often get myself so beat up, you know," she mustered, voice somewhat stronger thanks in large part to the gourd. "Three seasons on my own and this is the worst of it." Her littermates had be constantly seeking a healer's aid for this or that, but not her. Thistle prided herself on being self-sufficient. She did not often get herself into situations that required outside intervention, but this was the rare exception. It was some luck that this woman just happened to have a healer's knowledge to spare. "I'm Thistle, by the way. No surname so I'm not sure what good it would do you, but all the same." She settled in, drowsy now that she'd be afforded a place to rest, and eager to sleep through the next three days if the gods were gracious enough. "Speech"

The woman was hardy, Deathbelle wasn’t sure how she was still conscious with what she’d put her body through. She was in obvious need of water, and how quickly she swallowed down the clear liquid was further proof of that fact. ”You’re welcome.” Deathbelle didn’t hesitate to reply as the she wolf took the medication as offered. ”Not that I’ll tell you what to do past my rights as a healer, but one life threatening injury in less than a year isn’t good odds, young lady.” She started, suddenly feeling more like a mom than she did in front of her own children. ”But maybe you should find a group to join. Having someone to watch your back when something bad happens can be life saving.” Her words weren’t meant to judge, only offer a bit of wisdom. She was given a first name, and despite debating what words to return she cocked an amused grin. ”I have an owl friend named Thistle.” Her voice was much warmer now, a stark contrast to her earlier short commands. ”My name is Belle.” She finally decided to answer, keeping her true identity as Empress hidden.