Absinth gathered the ragtag group of pups around her, beckoning them to sit and nestle in for her impromptu lesson. She could scarcely help but smile impishly at them, her demeanor both mischievous and welcoming as she waited for their full attention. This was a trial run, her first move to carrying out the plan she had put forth in Rhazien’s lesson some months ago. Public opinion. And where better to start than children? Think of it as a stepping stone, a practice run.

“Listen up, little ones,” Absinth began, her voice carrying excitement as she met each of their eyes. “Today, I'm going to tell you about a pack unlike any other – the Syndicate.” As the monochromatic woman spoke, her emerald eyes sparkled with the thrill of adventure, her words meant to weave a tale of ambition.

Absinth's grin widened as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Do you know what strength is, my young ones?” A pause, her smile growing wider as her silver-tongue wove her hook to keep their interest.
wormwood

As Cadaver stealthily prowled through the dense undergrowth, he caught the sound of a woman’s voice as it carried on the breeze. Intrigued by the unfamiliar sound, he halted his movements and cautiously approached the source.

Peering through the foliage, Cadaver observed a group of other wolves around his age as they gathered around a monochromatic wolf. His mismatched eyes narrowed with fascination as he watched her speak.

Though typically wary of strangers, Cadaver couldn't resist lingering at the edge of the gathering, his ears perked forward to catch every word of Absinth's tale. As her voice dropped to a whisper, he leaned in even closer, enticed by the promise of secrets and excitement. Despite his reservations, there was something about Absinth that sparked a sense of adventure within Cadaver. His mind raced, his thoughts swirling with questions. Who were the Syndicate? What made them different from other packs? And what did strength truly mean in the context of her story?

"Cadaver Nightwing"

Quill was not a young one. In fact, he was probably older than the fae giving the lesson. Despite not knowing her audience, Quill seated himself at the fringes of the gathering. He'd listen to what she had to say for now. Anything that he learned from her would be more ammunition in his mental arsenal. One never could have too much knowledge. Every little thing that he learned about the packs of the world would end up aiding him in the long run, so he would sit and he would listen. If she was full of shit though...

Ears swiveled to catch the words of the black and white fae. The Syndicate, she said. Quill hadn't heard of them previous to this. Like his father, the man kept his own council mostly. He wasn't terrribly social. Now that he knew of the Syndicate's existence, he may as well know what they were all about.

"Speech"

Barghest didn't know this woman who had lured her over for some kind of... story time? It didn't really matter, because she was more so interested in that odd twinkle in the woman's eyes. It was like she knew an inside joke or something, and Estie wanted to know too. She was young, and she was fearless -- so when the woman sat her down and spoke of something called the Syndicate and strength, the mottled girl was all in for the secretive allure of the little gathering. “It's being able to look after yourself.” The aqua-eyed girl ventured to answer, peering up at the emeralds of her would-be teacher.
""

Again she was away from her new ‘home’, uninterested in meeting all the new wolves she was expected to coexist with. Hell, she was just now starting to care about Chimera; why the hell would she care about all the new nobodies in some foreign pack? Hmpf. So she was out stalking through the underbrush, finding herself at the base of that mountain once again; not looking for anything in particular, but damn, something must have been looking for her.

A voice caught her attention; carried to her on the breeze, beaconing her forward like a moth to a flame. When she arrives, she’s met by a gathering group of wolves; the ringleader, an ebony and ivory woman with stark, emerald eyes. As Nimue looks up at her, she’s overtaken by a sense of awe; this woman had power. It was palpable in the air, it resonated from her in waves and it made Nimue’s fur stand on edge. And yet, she was intrigued. She spoke of a pack called The Syndicate, a kingdom Nimue hadn’t heard before. And when she asked if they knew what strength was, Nimue couldn’t help but chime in. “Strength is power; the ability to take what you want, do what you want, create what you want.”  Her little chest puffed out, shoulders straightening and toes digging into the earth. Yes, she knew what strength was.  

"Speech"

The monochromatic woman eyed the brute sitting off to the side, wagering he was related to one of the little tykes seated before her. He did not interrupt, nor seem all that over-protective about what she might tell the kids so she merely offered him a prolonged bit of eye contact before she returned her attention back to the children. The mottled girl gave a simple answer, but the small girl – the one whose eyes could have mirrored Absinth’s when she was a pup… she gave a reply with some meat on it. Haha. With her tone filled with mystery, she continued. “Yes. Strength is power, power is everything. You like your free will, don’t you? You’ll need strength to defend it. But this does not always mean physical power.”

Absinth leaned back a bit, eyes taking in the little forms one at a time, making sure the weight of her words was fully settled over them. Then, with a rugged voice full of confidence and knowing she spun her tale. “You see, the Syndicate understood the power of knowledge and strategy. They knew that to succeed, they had to be clever, resourceful, and willing to take risks. Not to say that they weren’t powerful. Quite the opposite.” She chuckled, a paw raising and gesturing in the air at the kids.

“They started off as a Band by the same name, building up quiet strength in the north under their Sultan. Their King, that is. He had a lovely cousin who was as pretty as she was smart, and she managed to befriend a cute kid like you all. She showered him with books and treats, and he had such a lovely time with her and her kin. But there was an issue. The Syndicate needed to become a pack. How do you think this happened?” Absinth eyed them again, her gaze falling on the small one for a bit longer than the others.
wormwood

The prolonged eye contact between the storyteller and himself brought a bit of heat to Quill's loins. She was a pretty thing but was too sure of herself. He liked them demure and sweet like Talyssa. Still... if the opportunity arose, he'd bang her.

The woman spoke of The Syndicate and the younger of the group indulged in participation. Barghest was present and answered the woman's query. Nimue was there as well, unfortunately, and her answer was a bit more thorough. Quill could see what the fae was getting at and she padded the story with her own ideals. Still, when peeled away, Quill could see the practicality of the Syndicate's plan.

"Speech"

My, was Nimue enthralled by this woman; the way she spoke about power and strength, made a shiver of excitement roll down her tiny spine. The sensation clawed it way down to her tail, which stayed to sway back and forth out of reflex. Now we’re talking. This was the first wolf she’d met who so openly talked about this stuff, and Nimue was for it.

She went on to talk about The Syndicate; weaving a tale of knowledge, strategy, and risk-taking. Nimue leaned forward in her seat, anticipation shimmering in her eyes, the need to know what happened rolling off her body in palpable waves.

They’d started as a band, led by a king who called himself a Sultan. His cousin befriended a kid, gave him books and treats, and considered him a friend. Now this was getting boring. But then, Absinth stopped with a hook; they needed to become a pack. Something drastic must have happened, something related to the boy. Nimue felt a wave of alarm start to raise in her gut. Did they kill him!?

"Speech"

Cadaver listened intently as Absinth spoke, his mismatched eyes flickering with a spark of curiosity. Her words painted a vivid picture of a pack shrouded in mystery and ambition, and he found himself drawn further into the tale. As Absinth turned her attention to the group, including him in her gaze, Cadaver felt a pang of excitement. This was unlike any story he had heard before, and he was eager to learn more. He glanced around at the other pups, noticing their rapt attention, and felt a sense of camaraderie among them. Despite their differences, they were all united in their curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

When Absinth posed her question about how the Syndicate became a pack, Cadaver's mind raced. He thought back to his own experiences, trying to piece together how a group of individuals could come together to form something greater. Not wanting to chance a wrong guess, he listened quietly, waiting to hear her revelation.

"Cadaver Nightwing"

As the woman's gaze flickered over the group, Barghest met her eyes with a steady gaze, her ears perked forward in anticipation. She could sense the weight of the story about to unfold, and she leaned in closer, eager to soak in every word. When the woman spoke of strength, Barghest felt a surge of excitement ripple through her. Power was everything, she understood that much. But as the woman's voice filled with mystery, Barghest found herself hanging onto her every word, eager to unravel her secrets.

Barghest's eyes widened with wonder as the woman painted a picture of a band of wolves, led by a Sultan – a leader akin to a king – in the north. She imagined herself among them, roaming the wilderness with a sense of purpose and unity. Something she didn’t have in Elysium.

‘How did they become a pack?’ The woman asked and Barghest's mind raced as she considered the question. How? The answer eluded her.

""

Absinth's expression turned serious as she continued her tale, the playful glint in her eyes paired with a steely resolve now. “The boy,” She explained, her voice mischievous. A wicked twinkle in her emeralds. “Was the son of an Alpha.” She paused, allowing the gravity of her words to settle over the young pups before her. Perhaps one of them was the offspring of an alpha as well… “The Sultan’s cousin had done her homework. She found out who the boy was, who his parents were, and where they came from. That they were fiercely loyal to their pack and their kin.” Absinth continued, her gaze lingering on each of the pups in turn. She leaned in, letting her words fall like honey purred so sweetly for their ears alone. “So when the Syndicate came knocking at their door, ready to take what they wanted, they were faced with an impossible choice. Their son, or their pack.”

Absinth's voice grew low as she recounted the ultimatum presented to the boy's parents. The threat backed up by a dozen wolves ready for war. Forcing Norad to choose between their love for their child and their duty to their pack. “The boy's parents knew that if they defied the Syndicate, their entire pack would suffer,” Absinth explained, her voice tinged with mirth. “What do you think they chose?” As if the choice was not obvious. But it was exciting to see how the cogs turned in these youths' eyes.
wormwood

Absinth continued on, explaining that the boy was the son of an Alpha, and already Nimue was trying to piece together the information. Some lady befriended the boy, he ended up being the son of an alpha, and his dad’s pack was very loyal to their kin. Oh. Nimue was starting to pick up on the undercurrent of Absinth’s words. Did they use the boy as ransom?

That’s what it seemed like to Nimue, especially when Absinth explained that their band went knocking on the pack’s door, with the alpha’s son in tow. Nimue cocked her head slightly, a look of wonder and apprehension morphing her features; suddenly, she felt on edge around the woman, knowing her pack had performed such a feat. “Their son?” She said, chiming in. Given the information Absinth provided, the kid’s dad must have picked him over ruling a pack, right? Her parents would have done that, if they hadn’t been killed. Oh. Now she was thinking about that again.  

"Speech"

Cadaver's expression remained stoic as Absinth recounted the Syndicate's ultimatum. The tension in the air ran thick with the rise and fall of her story, but he refused to let it affect him.

As Absinth posed her question, Cadaver's mind raced with possibilities. What game was she playing? He smirked as he thought about what he would have done in their situation - exploit the situation for his own gain, of course. Without hesitation, he lifted his chin and met Absinth's gaze with a calculating look. "They chose wisely," he said nonchalantly. In his mind, the pack always came first, even at the expense of a child's life. But of course, she had explained that this particular pack was family-oriented. Logically speaking, they would have spared the child.

"Cadaver Nightwing"

Barghest's gaze sharpened as Absinth's tale took a darker turn, her expression shifting from curiosity to a calculating intensity. The mischievous glint in Absinth's eyes was met with a glacial, unwavering stare from Barghest. Absinth revealed the boy's lineage, and Barghest's mind raced with possibilities. She observed the other pups around her, noting the subtle reactions to Absinth's words. Some looked intrigued, while others seemed uneasy. She herself could only understand in terms of reading the woman’s body language, and she had turned… devious.

The ultimatum presented by the Syndicate hit Barghest on a visceral level. She understood all too well the way you could be bound by loyalty and duty. And as Absinth painted the scene of the pack facing down the threat of the Syndicate, Barghest felt a flicker of admiration for the boy's parents, their resolve tested in the crucible of adversity. They chose their son. But there was no room for sentimentality in Barghest's world. She listened intently as Absinth posed her question, her mind already racing ahead to the inevitable conclusion. The choice was clear, a reflection of the harsh realities of life.

“What an idiot. He made them lose everything. Because he followed some stranger away.” Barghest replied, her voice devoid of emotion as she met Absinth's gaze with a cool intensity. Of course, she had room to speak, seeing as her big brother was nearby. But she would never have put herself into the same situation. Who raised kids like that? Lured away with books and treats. Stupid.
""

The story continued and Quill could respect and appreciate the cunning of The Syndicate and the woman who had devised the plan. It had worked out in their favor and the pack had gotten exactly what it had wanted without a drop of blood shed. It was the perfect takeover.

The woman ended the lesson with a question, asking which decision they thought the former pack's alpha had made. The younger of the group gave their answers. When it came to be Barghests turn, her answer brought a low chuckle from Quill. She was right. Kleins were raised to be smart. To use their brains. None of Chimera's children would have been lured away with promises and treats. Hmm. Maybe she wasn't so bad afterall.

"Speech"