Yara Grey

Yara's eyes flickered with a mixture of defiance and sarcasm as she looked around the sparse den. The scent of stale air and old earth filled her nostrils, a stark reminder of her new reality. She took a step forward, her muscles taut with the strain of holding back her true feelings. Her silver eyes, once admired for their striking beauty, now held a sharp glint, reflecting her inner turmoil.

"Just one, Warlord," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Should I be worried about your wife getting jealous when she sees how much better my accommodations are?" She kept her gaze steady, challenging him subtly with her words. The humor in her tone was a thin veil over the seething anger she felt inside. She knew she had to be careful, but she couldn't resist to tease.

Yara's pelt, a sleek and lustrous blend of moonlight and smoke, seemed almost out of place in such a grim setting. Her beauty had often been a source of pride, a testament to her strength and spirit. Now, it was a reminder of what she had lost and what she still fought to reclaim. The way she held herself, with a mixture of grace and defiance, was a silent proclamation of her resilience.

CODE BY SIN

His eyes sparked with amusement as his little Rabbit spoke, speaking up for the first time since he had pressed his fangs against her delicate throat. Whatever her thoughts on the den, he had ensured it had good airflow, and was clean and tidy before he had set it up as Ignita’s painting den. His mate, and the pack’s steward, had cleaned up her painting supplies and left the den clutter free and ready to serve the next wolf. That none of them had expected it to be a Songbird was a change they would take in stride.

He had a feeling that Ignita had chosen it for its close proximity to one of the border guards, and the easy line of sight between here and their own den. He knew her words were a small wrestle of control, and not a true assessment of the quarters. “Would you rather den with us? We could store you on a shelf out of the way when we aren’t using you.” His words were clear, and serious, through his eyes teased her. Wondering if his words would strike more defiance in her.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

Yara Grey

Yara's eyes flickered with a mixture of enjoyment and defiance as she caught the spark of amusement in Basilisk's eyes. Despite the gravity of her situation, she found a strange satisfaction in his reaction. If she could make him laugh, even in this twisted scenario, it was a small victory.

She smirked, letting a playful glint enter her sun-yellow eyes. "Store me on a shelf, huh? As long as it's a high shelf with a good view, I might not mind," she retorted, her tone light and teasing. "But do you really think you can handle having me that close all the time? I might just sing all day and night. Is that not what a songbird does?"

Yara stepped a bit closer, her movements graceful despite the tension in her muscles. "Though, I must say, your choice of accommodations isn't all bad. It's cozy in a rugged, mountain-cave sort of way. And it's nice it will be dry, at least. I was expecting harsher punishment."

She glanced around the den again, her smirk softening into a more genuine smile. "I suppose I should be grateful for the fresh air and cleanliness. After all, it's the little things that count when you're a prisoner, right?"

Her eyes sparkled with a mix of humor and challenge as she looked back at Basilisk. "But seriously, I think your wife might be more worried about me charming my way out of here than anything else. I have a way with words, you know. It's one of my many talents."

Yara let out a soft laugh, the sound echoing lightly off the cave walls. "Are you sure she is going to want me to check on her in the morning?"

CODE BY SIN

He really shouldn’t let this wolf get under his skin. He easily shifted from stick to carrot and back again with a regularity that left wolves confused. Ignita, more than most. He had shown Yara the stick when he had caught her in his pack lands. Now, amusement seemed to be guiding him.

“Are you really sure you would want that? I should have named Ignita the rabbit.” He smiled with a hint of teeth. He was sure she would get sick of that view in a heartbeat. “Don’t tempt me to make you sing…” was that still teasing, or this time a warning? He left her to figure that out for the both of them.

“Don’t forget why you're here, Rabbit. You trespassed into a large pack full of warriors and attempted to steal from us. This is life giving you a break, and letting you off easy.” He leaned forward, closer towards her. Yes, that one was definitely a warning. She wasn’t a prisoner, she was a convict.

“Charming, are you. Have you started yet, or are you going to leave me hanging?” as if none of her words had made the mark so far. It was too bad he was enjoying teasing her, he’d probably need to use the stick more heavily to get her back in line again when he was done.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara's playful demeanor faltered as Basilisk's tone shifted, the sharp edge of his words cutting through her defiance. She recognized the danger in his gaze, the thin line she had been walking now revealed as a precarious tightrope. Her heart pounded in her chest, a reminder of the very real stakes she faced.

She lowered her eyes, the spark of rebellion dimming as she took a step back. The cave seemed to close in around her, the weight of her situation pressing down. She needed to be careful, to bide her time and not reveal too much of her true feelings. The fire within her still burned, but it was now a controlled flame, hidden beneath a veneer of compliance.

"You're right, Warlord," she said quietly, her voice devoid of its earlier sarcasm. "I won't forget why I'm here. Thank you for giving me a chance." She forced herself to meet his gaze, a mask of submission firmly in place.

CODE BY SIN

Aw, he broke his toy. She backed down so easily, and he shifted back into a normal position. One that didn’t tower over her. He regarded her silently for another few moments before he spoke again. When he did, his voice was measured, neutral. “What is your name, and what brought you to thieving herbs in the Marketplace?” though her answers didn’t really matter all that much, he found himself curious all the same.

Besides, Ignita would likely ask these questions of him when he returned to her. He supposed he’d better have at least a couple ready to answer. No doubt, she would take more time and care to know the wolf in the morning. Or would she decide it was better to hold herself apart from the slave? He was curious to see how Ignita would handle this new obstacle thrown in her path.


"Basilisk"

If she were truly a bird Ignita's feathers would have fluffed up with glee as he deferred to her most generously. She watched them exit the den, her eyes lingering first on the luscious way his form moved then lingered curiously on the woman's receding steps. Despite the songbird's submissive pose, Ignita saw a determination and hidden confidence in her gait that Ignita had lacked in her early days. She didn't skitter along, she strode.

Oh, Bas... What was she going to do with an indentured servant? She would have much rather had a book for a wedding gift than a... slave.

She laid her head down as she found herself alone with her possum Idalia. Trying her best to think about it all later, in the morning.

-exit Ignita-

Yara Grey

Yara had begun to turn away, moving toward her den with deliberate and subdued movements. The cool air of the cave she stepped into felt oppressive, a start reminder of her captivity. She pulled the tiger pelt from her shoulders, its warmth and softness a small comfort to the harsh reality she now faced. She dropped it at her paws gently when she heard Basilisk speak again.

Yara paused in her retreat, the unexpected question giving her a moment of hesitation. She turned back to face Basilisk, her expression carefully controlled. The sharpness in his earlier tone had made her wary, but the curiosity in his eyes now seemed genuine. She took a breath, gathering her thoughts.

"My name is Yara Grey," she said her full name quietly but with pride, her voice steady. "I was looking for food and herbs to treat illnesses. I am on my own and food can be hard to come by, I suppose I was desperate. I also lack the company of any healers, so preventing illnesses is important to me if I am too survive." That last part hit her more than she expected, the truth of her family being wiped out by a sickness still a bit raw to her. She met his gaze, letting a hint of her vulnerability show. "I never meant to steal from your pack, only to find what I needed. I didn't think of you, or the army, just that what I needed was unattended and able to be taken from wolves that wouldn't miss it." Her sun-yellow gaze lingered on him for a moment, curiosity striking her as well. If he were to be stripped of his rank and his wolves, would he resort to the same measures she had? She hmm'ed quietly, lowering her lighter colored muzzle.

With that, she turned away again, retreating to her den. She lay down on the tiger pelt, curling into herself, the weight of her words settling heavily in her chest. She knew she had to be careful, to hide her true intentions behind a facade of obedience, but her heart ached with the longing to escape and reunite with her brother. For now, she would bide her time, waiting for the right moment to act. Thoughts of the inner workings of the caverns and how the caves and tunnels that he showed her were laid out were the last thing on the young warrior's mind as she fell asleep.

-exit Yara-

CODE BY SIN

His rabbit named herself, and he filed it away for days when he was feeling generous. Her explanation wasn't unexpected. A lone wolf, trying to survive. “This doesn't have to be a bad thing. You'll be fed, treated, and trained in the Armada. Do you have an interest you'd like to train in?” There was a wildfire in her. She could be an asset, if he handled this right.


She might be ready to leave the conversation, but he didn't give her that satisfaction yet. Her own words on illness had clearly struck a nerve for her. He found himself wondering what she had lost, and how. But he couldn't bring herself to care, not yet. She was a wildcard, and she needed to learn her place. He couldn't trust that she would ever hold any loyalties to the Armada. not yet. “Our founder was a slave, bred and trained instead of nurtured. He clawed himself out of slavery, and built this pack and life. Ignita, my love, was a slave. If things had been just a little different, I would have been born as one as well. The Armada treat slaves a little differently than most. It's a rank to grow from, not die in.”

Yara Grey

Yara lay on the tiger pelt, the soft fur a stark contrast to the turmoil inside her. Basilisk's words washed over her, each one a bitter reminder of her new reality. She listened intently, the weight of his expectations pressing down on her. This didn't have to be a bad thing, he said. She would be fed, treated, trained. There was an almost tantalizing promise in his words, but she couldn't ignore the underlying truth of her captivity.

The mention of training sparked a flicker of interest. She had always been a quick learner, her agility and sharp mind her greatest assets. Could she truly trust him to follow through on this promise? The wildfire inside her burned brighter, fueled by a mix of defiance and curiosity. If she played her cards right, this could be an opportunity to gather the skills she needed to escape.

His recounting of the Armada's history, of its founder and Ignita's past as slaves, struck a chord with her. She couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of likeness with them, though she fought to suppress it. They had clawed their way out of slavery, built a life from the ashes of their past. Could she do the same? Could she rise through the ranks of Armada and find her freedom?

Yara's thoughts turned to Eirik, her lost brother. She had to survive, had to endure this, for him. If playing the role of a compliant slave meant she could gain the skills and knowledge to find him, then so be it. She would learn their ways, earn their trust, and when the time was right, she would strike.

She remained silent for a moment, considering Basilisk's question. Then, she took a deep breath and answered, her voice steady but thoughtful. "If I'm to be trained, I'd like to learn combat and navigation. I want to be able to defend myself and understand the land. If I'm going to serve the Armada, I want to be useful."

Her answer was honest, reflecting both her desire to become stronger and her underlying ambition. Learning combat would help her protect herself against the marauders should they still be alive, while navigation would give her the knowledge she needed to find her way around Boreas and, ultimately, locate her brother and the marauders in the first place. She doubted the Warlord would allow her to leave the territory to learn Boreas any time soon, but she spoke her truth.

Basilisk had ignited a fire within her that blazed brighter than ever, a beacon of hope in the darkness of her captivity. For now, she would bide her time, listen, and learn. She would become an asset, gain their trust, and when they least expected it, she would reclaim her freedom. That was her plan for now, anyway. She did not want to get trapped here and lose sight of finding her brother. There was a sense of urgency about finding him that she just did not want to lose. Yara's resolve hardened as she lay on the tiger pelt, her spirit unbroken and her mind set on the path ahead.

CODE BY SIN