The girl - no, woman, now - pranced along the edges of the territory, curiosity sparking in her gaze. She almost wanted to test her boundaries: how much could she piss the pack off before admitting that she was indeed their alpha's daughter? For she had done some information gathering, and her saber-toothed father was rather unusual; even the pack-less were oft-times familiar with those that were... unique. She'd be among that number.

Ahhh, Father. She could remember back to the day she'd met him: once again, her and her sibling's mother had ushered them along, snapping and irritated, towards their next destination. What Lyra had never expected was to meet her father that day. A smile appeared on her face at the memory; she could remember clearly the look of pure shock and surprise as her and her siblings popped into view so cheerfully.

She much preferred the time spent with her father over her mother, but it didn't take long for a peculiar bug to bite her: the wandering bug. Paws twitching to explore, she suddenly started to understand her mother's restless movement, and to a degree, even her resentment. The thought of being stuck with pups was horrifying to Lyra (though, a large part of that was that SHE was still a pup), and already she was restless and twitchy following behind her father and siblings. She wanted to see more, explore more, do everything... more.

What was surprising to her (though it shouldn't have been, Chaos was a very fair father), was that her father agreed to allow her to do it... once she was at least a yearling, of course. That of course made sense, and Lyra agreed at once; besides, she was born in the spring, and to leave in the winter would be foolish anyhow. So she stayed, learned fighting, hunting, and how to care for herself before she set off - all things she promised her dad that she would do to stay safe and smart. She practiced her climbing, and all things that she could do with her paws that other wolves couldn't.

And she left, probably around spring to summer time, to do those things. And oh, did she enjoy herself immensely; she saw so much new and shiny and fresh, and every other word that could possibly mean those things. Eventually, though, it was time to return home, and so she did. She thought about returning in the spring: an easier journey, with plentiful prey, but in the end decided not to. Why? Well, she could provide for herself now. She could hunt well, use her senses well, creep well. Her thick paws allowed her softer footsteps than even the most wary of wolves, and her ability to climb and perch like a cat offered advantages that others could not speak for.

True, she was a little skinny now, but were they all not a little skinny during winter time? The prey simply didn't run as well, and therefore wolves ate less. Either way, though, she was home, her tall and lanky frame teasing at the borders. She got tired of that, though, and now flopped her butt onto the wet ground, and tilted her head back. Some wolves called for the leader of the pack. Others still spoke their request in their howl. Lyra's?

Well.

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!"

Chaos was making the rounds 'round the Range when a very familiar scent rose from the border. "Lyra," he breathed. At first a wave of excited glee hit him - his daughter was home! And then... "Lyra..." a familiar sound of exasperation, when he realized that she was playing around with pushing the limits of the pack border. That girl! She was playing with fire, since the only wolves in the pack likely to recognize her scent were him, Ares, and Valentine. Any of the old Niente wolves would likely bite first, ask questions later unless she was lucky enough for them to connect the dots, so to speak, and compare her eye markings to his own and the other Saxe and Imperalis wolves. Even Valentine, for that matter, might choose to take the matter of her discipline into his own paws - he'd been disinclined to put up with naughty behavior in his pups as they were growing up, and he'd only gotten more crotchety with age. Chaos huffed out an aggrieved sigh and set off along the sent trail in a lope.

Some long minutes passed of following her scent when the long, drawn out call of "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!" set his fur on edge like a cat in alarm. "LYRA!" he roared in return, charging ahead with his fangs bared, fully prepared to save his pup from harm.

.... only to find her sitting there quite unharmed and alone.

He skidded to a halt, still bristling and snarling, whipping his head back and forth to seek the danger to Lyra, but found nothing. His blood was slow to cool, his hackles slow to lower, but finally his gaze fell from seeking a fight to rest on his only daughter quizzically. "Lyra," he repeated again, with that same old exasperation coloring the word.

She was grinning when she let out the whining, long howl for her father. Long and drawn out, she was under no illusion that the wolves of the pack that didn't know her would likely be confused, as for who would be on the edge of the border shouting dad? That just simply wasn't normal. However, she was not expecting her father's enraged roar in return. Her eyes wide, fur rising, and her ears falling back in an unseen gesture of shock, and a little bit of shame, she whispered, "Whoopsie." She uh, had not been intending that to be a reaction in the slightest, and hadn't even thought about him even being worried about her call. Aaand he was going to charge right in and see... just her. Whooooops. ... she'd apologize later.

Her intention at that point was to sit still, quiet, and smirking, even when he came charging in but... that fell apart way too quickly. Already when she could scent him approaching, her tail was beating the ground; when he got close enough to see, her butt was wiggling entirely while still on the ground, her anticipation and excitement unable to be contained even knowing that he was going to come angry and expecting a fight. Claws worked at the ground, ripping up dirt - the ability to stay still was something that Lyra hadn't quite developed yet, and even less so here. Even still, when he came charging in, every inch of him angry and ready to rip into something, her eyes widened, until he paused.

A grin tugged at her lips, widening fully as the familiar tone, full of the exasperation she expected, hit her ears. Not even a second passed as the girl utterly disregarded the border, and flung herself across, barreling straight into her father with an excited, wordless shout. It was then, and only then that she realized how she had filled out; leaving as she had, she was still lanky and skinny, but now? not so much. She had the form of an adult wolf, with all the power and the strength. Nothing that of an immature yearling, and it showed as she tried to burrow like a little pup into her father's chest fluff. "DAD!" she huffed cheerfully, her tail a flailing windmill of excitement as she showered her father with all the affection she could muster. Of course, eventually, she murmured, "I didn't mean to scare you." It wasn't... quite an apology, especially with the amusement coloring the words, but it was likely as close as Chaos could get. After all, in this case... like father, like daughter; both enjoyed discord.

Lyra flung herself across the border and Chaos braced himself against the impact as she slammed into him. She might not be up to his weight, but she was no little pup anymore either, and if he hadn't been ready for it he might have staggered a bit. As it was though, he was able to stand unmoved by the assault and tuck her against his chest in a fierce hug. "What did you expect?" he sighed. "You were messing around on the borders of a pack of fighters, I thought for sure one of my wolves had gone after you thinking you were a trespasser. Which," he added with a reluctant half-smile tugging at his muzzle, "you are." He shook head and her in exasperation but couldn't, as always, stay mad. "I'm glad to see you back in one piece. Are you staying long?" He really, really hoped so, but he kept his tone casual, wanting to give his kids the space to be their own people and, if they wanted, to leave again, as little as he wanted them to.

Lyra grinned at her father's words, even as her eyes closed in contentment at the hug from her father - the first in many long months. "What can I say? I'm your child," she retorted, returning the grin with one of her own. "What did you expect, Dad?" Knowing him, and knowing herself, she knew that he would absolutely have expected her to do exactly what she did. After all, it seemed that having fun with the borders of packs ran in their bloodline. She eyed him. "I dunno, am I trespassing?" She tried to think of a way to word it to hint what she was getting at, but alas - that was the best she could do, and her muzzle wrinkled slightly at the mild failure it had been. However, his next question made her grin again. "Now that's up to you," she retorted, eyes gleaming. Now, maybe, she could hint properly. "That depends if I'm really trespassing or not." Oh PLEASE let that be enough.

Chaos refrained from the 'I expect you to have more sense' that he would have gotten from his dad, even though Lyra probably could have used a dose of Valen parenting, because he knew he'd only get a snarky reply in return and he didn't want to ruin his reunion with his daughter with an argument. He gave her a sideways glance, though, at her seemingly claiming herself as part of Legion. He wanted very much to believe she meant she wanted to join, and that she wasnt just playing what she thought would be an amusing trick at his expense. "I would be happy for you to stay with us as long as you want," he said cautiously. "Ares joined Legion. A lot of the Inperialis wolves are as well. I expect a lot out of my pack wolves though so I understand if it's not something you want to commit to."

She absolutely would have given a snarky reply, or at the least, a dismissive one; she was rather thankfuly she didn't get that lecture. She met that side-eye of his boldly, a smile on her maw, and that twinkle in her eye. She nodded once at his words, noting and understanding his cautious tone; she was, quite often, a freefloating wolf, but she knew her father, and was rather interested in the idea of his pack. Her response, of course, was all typical Lyra: "When can I start?" she questioned, the serious look breaking with another grin as she booped her father with her nose. "I've become a damned good hunter, though I'm not sure I'm good at anything else. These claws come in quite handy for hunting. Probably would for fighting too, but eh. Hunting's fun. And tasty."