The Lirim handover was scheduled not even a week from now, and Aryn knew she didn't have much time to prevent the exchange. Her only chance at both saving her pack and the freedom of her mother and brother was to find this Recluse and rescue them - thus removing the bargaining chip the devil woman was using to steal her father's people away. Innocent Aryn with the very sparse knowledge she had in hunting and tracking was not so stupid as to think she could handle this task without some formal training, but still as far as proficient hunters went Lirim remained empty. There was no knowledge to be gained within her home, and without anywhere else to turn Aryn arrived at Fireside's borders for the first time in weeks. Within her jaws she held the bloodied, mangled corpse of a rabbit. It's throat was torn open, and while she'd tried desperately to wash the blood from her muzzle a few of the light tufts of fur upon her cheek were still tinged red. She'd tried - failed, but tried - to emulate the murder technique Tyrian had shown her, but without the ability to knock unconscious the animal prior it was not nearly as clean as it should have been. Regardless it was not a killing technique she'd came for today. She tossed the trophy down at her paws, sparing it a glance before placing her paw atop it in some semblance of feigned pride. The anti-nausea medication she had taken prior was working, perhaps too much, and Aryn steeled herself to call weakly for the King. Please don't turn me away. "Speech" "Thinking" "You."

All Tyrian could do for several seconds was stare dumbfounded in the direction of the timid call. What. The. Fuck. Instantly he had regrets. He knew he should have made her kill a lamb. This was what he got for letting her win; she'd come back with some inane plan to set him straight or free his critters because clearly by letting her go he was admitting in some way that she was right and he was wrong. Or some silly girly nonsense like that. Damn it. If he could have, Tyrian would have kicked himself. He deserved a swift kick in the ass for being so stupidly soft. Well, that wouldn't happen again. He'd learned his lesson.

Nearly breathing fire, Tyrian threw himself onto the scene. He'd fallen victim to her sad, helpless ways and now he knew his pity had been used against him. Sure, it may not have been deliberate, but it had been all the same. Well, no more. He wasn't going to even entertain whatever silly fantasy she'd talked herself into today. No, he was just going to kick her ass properly and-

Baffled by what he was seeing, Tyrian slowed to a halt and stood some distance away eying Aryn warily. His gaze darted first to the blood, then to the mangled rabbit, then to Aryn herself. She may as well have thrown his plans and preconceived ideas into the river because they didn't mesh with the scene at all and appeared to be about as useful as tits on a boar. Tyrian wasn't convinced she was clever enough for subterfuge, but even excluding that he had no idea what he'd walked into. He wasn't going to completely dismiss his assumptions just in case this was some sort of ploy. "What the fuck, woman. I thought we had an understanding."

Over and over again she reminded herself how she needed to be brave, calm, and collected when the King answered her call. Showing herself as undeserving and weak wouldn't do her any favors, and she needed his knowledge as badly as she needed air to breathe. Still, the expression upon his face as he arrived instantly set her ears to pin, the lump in her throat building the longer he inspected her and her 'kill'. [/b] "W-w." Her voice broke, and she swallowed to steady herself. "We did. I'm sorry, I didn't know who else to turn to." It was very very hard to keep her entire body from shaking and her gaze from hiding from his own, but Aryn kept her eyes firmly upon his and her paws still. "I know you don't owe me anything.. I get it if you want to send me away." Another big gulp, and a shaky inhale. "I need another lesson, I'm willing to pay you anything. Whatever you think is fair." Her teeth bit into her bottom lip, her anxiety peeking through. Aryn was prepared to steal even from Lirim's cache's if that's what it took - after all, if they were moving to Valhalla they wouldn't need them anymore anyways. "Please, Tyrian. Please." "Speech" "Thinking" "You."

The first thing that snagged his attention when Aryn started to explain herself was her nerves. The crack in her voice here, the shaky breath there. Oh god was she going to cry already? His hatred of tears couldn't be understated. They made him uncomfortable and were a chink in an otherwise strong armor. He'd rather wade through bullshit and/or venom than deal with a puddle of tears. At least he knew how to fight those. How did one fight tears and win? With lies it was a matter of cleverness half the time and with malice it was usually a fighting fire with fire sort of thing, but tears? Beyond feeling like the biggest asshole ever, he had no idea how to respond. Any response felt like kicking a puppy and calling that victory.

Clearly uncomfortable, Tyrian studied Aryn in silence. He had no idea what to make of her. None, zero. He'd been quite sure that after their last encounter she would head for the hills and never return, maybe even pass down the story of the vicious sheep herder king to future generations of tender-hearted hippy babies, but certainly never be seen by him again. And yet here she was looking for...help? Maybe he'd underestimated her. She'd said she wanted his help so perhaps Aryn had learned something from her brief time in Fireside.

Finally his gaze broke from her to briefly wander over the horizon. Tyrian had half a mind to tell her to kick rocks. The lamb incident and the insane amount of figurative - and literal - kicking and screaming he'd put up with that day had ruined naive damsels for him. Or at least meddling. He was now very aware of the fact that he couldn't "save" someone who didn't want to be saved. He'd learned his lesson and would not be making that mistake or any like it ever again.

Oh, fuck it who was he kidding; Tyrian was a glutton for punishment and he couldn't resist the challenge. There was just one problem that stood between him and saying yes, and it was the gap in steps between 'hate this man and his sheep murder that makes me vomit' and 'imma show up on his doorstep with a bloody rabbit' because clearly something had to have happened to change her mind. Even if it was as simple as she thought about it and changed her opinion, he needed to hear it from her own mouth. "I guess I'm more of a masochist than I thought because I'm tempted to say yes. But..." he said slowly before waving a paw at the rabbit. "Last time I pegged you for more the type to throw up on a rabbit than kill it. What changed?"

Tempted to say yes was a hell of a lot better then tempted to kick the crap out of her for even showing her face here again. Aryn's expression became hopeful and her ears cautiously stood upright. Of course he'd ask an explanation, it was something she'd entirely expected of him and regardless she'd not thought to practice an answer. Tyrian couldn't know the real story behind her visit, even a wolf as naive as Aryn knew that the King would be washing his hands of her forever rather then get involved in drama between packs that weren't his own. "I'm medicated." She blurted in reply. Maybe that wasn't the best answer, either. "I told you before, Lirim has no hunters. I need to step up for them no matter what it takes." None of it was a lie, at least. She glanced back down at her paws, felt a stirring in her stomach and kicked the rabbit off to the side. With her paw in the door she continued, hoping she'd had the hard King won for the moment. "I figure maybe we can start with tracking." "Speech" "Thinking" "You."

Her initial response caught him off guard. He snorted a laugh. Tyrian couldn't help it; he wasn't sure what he'd expected in response but of all the possible answers that one never would have crossed his mind. It made sense, though. Now that she'd said it, it felt right. Like of course that was the answer. Realizing his error Tyrian quickly quashed the sound. He cleared his throat and said, "Sorry." As though warding off a sudden headache Tyrian then pressed the toes of one paw against the bridge of his nose. The rest of her answer made sense but somehow that didn't make answering her any easier.

Tyrian set his paw down and fixed Aryn with a look. He was a glutton for punishment. And, thinking back to Punishment Day, at one point he had wanted to kinda sorta adopt her. It was only the screeching and barfing and whining that had changed his mind. And at least two of those things would probably go away if she wanted to be taught. He was hoping, anyway.

A big sigh left his lips. "Alright, I'll do it, but I need to know we're on the same page first. I know what I'm doing. You got questions, great, ask 'em, but we ain't doing what we did last time, you know? As for payment, I haven't the slightest idea what to ask for. How about you just owe me. I'll know what this is worth when I see it." That seemed reasonable to him. It was hard to put a price tag on whatever this was.

At the sound of his chuckle, Aryn's pink gaze lifted from the mutilated rabbit. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes and couldn't help the shy smile that tugged at her lips, though she held his eyes for only a moment before glancing back down at her paws before the blush of embarrassment could take too firm a hold of her cheeks. Thinking from Tyrian's point of view, she could understand the spark in amusement. "It's silly, I know." She conceded softly, letting loose a soft wistful sigh of he own as his exhaustion showed. When he agreed to her request her liveliness showed itself, her ears pricking and head lifting as she sent another hopeful glance his way. "Really? Oh, you'd be doing me such a favor." The issue of 'owing' some unknown quid-pro-quo down the road didn't phase her - she'd do anything to get her mother and brother back. "I promise." Aryn placed her paw upon her chest, swearing a solemn vow. "I'll be a good student, I want to learn. I won't fight you on anything." The swell of excitement in her chest was not one she'd felt since before she learned of her family's captivity, back when she was a naive yearling who thought a knight in shining armor would sweep her off her feet. She straightened up her shoulders and fixed him with the best 'I'm-ready-to-learn' stare she could manage. "Speech" "Thinking" "You."

For whatever reason, watching her get a bit flustered over his laugh gave him a bit of solace. Because it was normal, maybe. This was going a lot differently than the other times they'd spoken. She'd gotten a real, genuine laugh out of him and sure, it was at her expense, but it had been normalizing in a way. Something had changed. It was far too early to say it was for the better, but it felt like the start of something new. And it pleased him to have the daughter of an alpha in his pocket. He had no idea what use he could make of that, but it might provide a bit of social weight someday. Who knew what it was worth.

Tyrian took a deep breath. "Do you want to get started, then, or will you come back when you're ready?" A thought occurred to him then and his browspots shot up as he openly considered it. He tipped his head to side and fixed her with a questioning look. "Or are you thinking of staying in Fireside for these lessons?" He didn't find the thought incredulous or far-fetched and his serious consideration of it showed on his face. It was a genuine question.

While Tyrian was thinking about the value of having the daughter of an alpha in his pocket, Aryn was wondering exactly how dishonest it was to avoid the truth of the situation where the weight of her 'favor' was to mean a lot less when in a short few weeks Lirim might cease to exist. How much could she offer him a month from now as a mere unranked nobody in Valhalla? Her lips turned downwards momentarily as she thought on it, though her attention gravitated back towards him when Tyrian posed his questions. "As soon as possible." She confirmed. There was no time to return home, every minute lost was another minute her mother and brother were held against their will. His second question brought her pause and the surprise was clear on her face as she studied him to determine whether he was making fun of her again. "Uhm." Aryn stuttered, flustered. "I don't know - would that make it easier for you?" To cram as much knowledge in as possible was her goal, and she supposed Tyrian had responsibilities beyond training some random non-pack member so if staying in Fireside was more convenient, she'd take the blow. It would worry her father to be gone long, but if she wasn't being held against her will she could always make the trip back to assure him she was still alive. She spent a lot of time out of territory anyways. "Speech" "Thinking" "You."

He waited patiently for a reply as she pondered the question. Already his mind was on the future lessons. He had no idea what kind of favors he might need in the future so he didn't waste any more thought on that portion of the agreement. Tyrian would know the worth of the deal when he saw it. As for the lessons...that might a bit of prep now that he thought about it. Maybe this was a bigger undertaking than he'd first thought. Tyrian frowned thoughtfully as he rolled the problem around in his head and listened to Aryn's answer. After a beat he replied, "I think it would be. If you're wanting to get this done quickly it doesn't make any sense for you to be trekking back and forth all the time, so how about this: you go home, tell your dad you're going to be out awhile, grab all the shit you need, and then come back and stay awhile? When you do we'll get started."

-end?-